Our tickets leaving tomorrow are through Port of Spain, Trinidad, so we had to get back to the bigger island before tomorrow morning.
The timing was as close as it could be. We had a 9:45pm flight out, which meant we could hit the concert.
Trinidad and Tobago aren't very far apart. So the flight between them is a bit of a joke. Twenty-five minutes of flight time. We spent twice the much time on the tarmac, loading and unloading.
But one final night in an airport hotel, then back to real life. No more swimsuits, sundresses, or 70-degrees. But also no more sand in every crevice, suspicious beds and showers, and covering oneself in greasy sunscreen. It will be good to be home.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Friends, Part Two : Feb. 24
The PLU girls and some of their friends were meeting up for dinner, then going to Shade, the only nightclub on the island. We had heard of this place through a few different avenues and on a Friday night, it was the place to be.
I napped while Alisa stood guard. About 11:30 we got the call that the girls were in the area and ready to go dancing.
We stopped at a bar to have a drink first, since apparently the club wasn't "hot" yet. Perhaps this was a reference to the "Inferno Friday" at which we found ourselves.
All of our friends and acquaintances were there, so there was never a boring minute and always someone to dance with. It was the wee hours when we finally left with our ringing ears and jelly legs.
I napped while Alisa stood guard. About 11:30 we got the call that the girls were in the area and ready to go dancing.
We stopped at a bar to have a drink first, since apparently the club wasn't "hot" yet. Perhaps this was a reference to the "Inferno Friday" at which we found ourselves.
All of our friends and acquaintances were there, so there was never a boring minute and always someone to dance with. It was the wee hours when we finally left with our ringing ears and jelly legs.
Machel Montano : Feb. 25
It was another scatteredly rainy morning. The first shower drove us into a roti place, where we had the delicious naan-wrapped curry. The second shower caught us out in the open on the trek to the beach, so we were soaked by the time we arrived.
But I couldn't stay unhappy (or wet) for long. The sun came out, we sat in the sand, we played in the waves, we had fruity blended cocktails, and we read.
The far end of Pigeon Point was boarded off for the concert at which we were going to finish our final day in Tobago. Through our interesting group of friends, we had all planned to go.
It was a giant beach party. You could bring in a cooler, which meant people were probably drunker and misbehavin' more than an equivalent party in the States. But that's pretty much the motto of Carnival.
Machel Montano was the headliner, and probably the most played artist at Carnival this year. We have a few of this songs memorized. So we were most excited for his performance, which of course happened an hour before we had to leave.
While it was a fascinating concert (I learned was the "6:30" dance move is), there was enough detracting from the fun to make it annoying. We had all our beach stuff that we had to guard. We had the same forward men we've encountered all trip, but now with more alcohol. We had the drunk girls behind us using us as supports for their dance moves. And we had a plane to catch.
But I couldn't stay unhappy (or wet) for long. The sun came out, we sat in the sand, we played in the waves, we had fruity blended cocktails, and we read.
The far end of Pigeon Point was boarded off for the concert at which we were going to finish our final day in Tobago. Through our interesting group of friends, we had all planned to go.
It was a giant beach party. You could bring in a cooler, which meant people were probably drunker and misbehavin' more than an equivalent party in the States. But that's pretty much the motto of Carnival.
Machel Montano was the headliner, and probably the most played artist at Carnival this year. We have a few of this songs memorized. So we were most excited for his performance, which of course happened an hour before we had to leave.
While it was a fascinating concert (I learned was the "6:30" dance move is), there was enough detracting from the fun to make it annoying. We had all our beach stuff that we had to guard. We had the same forward men we've encountered all trip, but now with more alcohol. We had the drunk girls behind us using us as supports for their dance moves. And we had a plane to catch.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Rainforest with no Rain : Feb. 24
One thing I will say about the perchance to rain - we have never been completely inconvenienced by it.
Today we had booked a birding tour into the rainforest with Newton George (who we found recommended somewhere on the web). We will pass on the recommendation because, though neither Alisa nor I is a birder, we got into it.
We drove up into green-covered hills with a mother-father-daughter from New York. The mother was clearly the impetus. (But hey, I'd go along with my parents' crazy whims to take awesome trips - rocks? sure...)
We started off right near the entrance to the forest, near some cows. And saw the giant cowbird. (Alisa and I both thought he was joking that the cows were the first "birds" of the day, but quickly discovered we were wrong.)
He had two extra pairs of binocular, so Alisa and I didn't miss out on anything. Highlights were definitely the pair of male manakins displaying to try to get a lady and the saber-winged hummingbird dipping down to bathe in the rainforest stream.
And the galoshes we rented to slog through the mud. Another priceless moment (though the Hello Kitty ones were too small for my feet).
Thankfully, Newton gave us a list of the birds. My list is more like "the yellow-tailed one with the funky hanging nest" (crested oropendola) and "the zebra-tailed red-bellied one that Newton loved" (collared trogan).
Though when they were still trying to spot birds at lunchtime, I was ready to take a break and just eat. Though no one ate the chicken...
Today we had booked a birding tour into the rainforest with Newton George (who we found recommended somewhere on the web). We will pass on the recommendation because, though neither Alisa nor I is a birder, we got into it.
We drove up into green-covered hills with a mother-father-daughter from New York. The mother was clearly the impetus. (But hey, I'd go along with my parents' crazy whims to take awesome trips - rocks? sure...)
We started off right near the entrance to the forest, near some cows. And saw the giant cowbird. (Alisa and I both thought he was joking that the cows were the first "birds" of the day, but quickly discovered we were wrong.)
He had two extra pairs of binocular, so Alisa and I didn't miss out on anything. Highlights were definitely the pair of male manakins displaying to try to get a lady and the saber-winged hummingbird dipping down to bathe in the rainforest stream.
And the galoshes we rented to slog through the mud. Another priceless moment (though the Hello Kitty ones were too small for my feet).
Thankfully, Newton gave us a list of the birds. My list is more like "the yellow-tailed one with the funky hanging nest" (crested oropendola) and "the zebra-tailed red-bellied one that Newton loved" (collared trogan).
Though when they were still trying to spot birds at lunchtime, I was ready to take a break and just eat. Though no one ate the chicken...
Friends : Feb. 23
Of course, because we had a 5:30am wake-up call the next day, we decided to stay out until 1am.
We have met a lot of people on this trip, and because the tourist track isn't so packed, we've seen quite a few of them over and over.
During Carnival, it was a friend of a friend from CMU that we arranged to meet. Then it was her friends. We also met some New Yorkers when we were waiting for our costumes, so ran into them during Carnival again and again. We met another couple in line and saw them again. Those were out Trinidad friends.
When we were on the ferry to Tobago, a guy recognized us from a conversation he tried to have with us during Carnival Tuesday. We had snubbed him then (mostly because he was just mouthing words at us). Turns out, he's a tour operator and hooked us up with our speed boat tour yesterday.
When we left our hostel on Wednesday to get food, we met two girls from the States. When we hung out at the beach with them later, we met two Bostonians. While at the beach, the bartender was super nice, and lots of numbers were exchanged.
So then, Thursday night, it was a big reunion. We went out with the PLU girls. We saw the New Yorkers from the speedboat. We met up with the Bostonians. The bartender got us some drinks. And we were out until 1am.
It's looking like tonight is going to be something similar.
We have met a lot of people on this trip, and because the tourist track isn't so packed, we've seen quite a few of them over and over.
During Carnival, it was a friend of a friend from CMU that we arranged to meet. Then it was her friends. We also met some New Yorkers when we were waiting for our costumes, so ran into them during Carnival again and again. We met another couple in line and saw them again. Those were out Trinidad friends.
When we were on the ferry to Tobago, a guy recognized us from a conversation he tried to have with us during Carnival Tuesday. We had snubbed him then (mostly because he was just mouthing words at us). Turns out, he's a tour operator and hooked us up with our speed boat tour yesterday.
When we left our hostel on Wednesday to get food, we met two girls from the States. When we hung out at the beach with them later, we met two Bostonians. While at the beach, the bartender was super nice, and lots of numbers were exchanged.
So then, Thursday night, it was a big reunion. We went out with the PLU girls. We saw the New Yorkers from the speedboat. We met up with the Bostonians. The bartender got us some drinks. And we were out until 1am.
It's looking like tonight is going to be something similar.
Flip-flop Weather : Feb. 23
We are in the middle of dry season, but this is the wettest dry season they've had in years.
So on our speedboat tour, we got rained on. A lot. We were already in our swimsuits, so it wasn't bad until we were blasting through the waves and the rain was like pellets. Then it was a little uncomfortable and chilly.
We started at the mangrove trees at Bon Accord wetlands with a German couple, a single Trini woman, a U.S. couple and their ten-year-old, an older English couple, and two women from Barbados (but who live in New York).
We worked our way along the northern coast up to Castara. I mentioned the snorkeling in another post. During one of the sun breaks, we had the chance to snorkel or swim to a beach and take a walk. Alisa, feeling seasick, and I, feeling discouraged, took a stroll on the idyllic beach.
Of course, once we left, it began to spit on us again. We had rum punch to lift our spirits. And those spirits stayed lifted through our barbecue lunch and straight out to the Nylon Pool.
The Nylon Pool is a ground-down coral reef about 500 meters from the nearest shoreline, but the water is only four feet deep, which makes for a great middle-of-the-ocean club.
At least at the Nylon Pool we saw a rainbow to make up for all of the rain. But, there it was again, the patter of the scattered showers. Which brought us right back to where we started.
So on our speedboat tour, we got rained on. A lot. We were already in our swimsuits, so it wasn't bad until we were blasting through the waves and the rain was like pellets. Then it was a little uncomfortable and chilly.
We started at the mangrove trees at Bon Accord wetlands with a German couple, a single Trini woman, a U.S. couple and their ten-year-old, an older English couple, and two women from Barbados (but who live in New York).
We worked our way along the northern coast up to Castara. I mentioned the snorkeling in another post. During one of the sun breaks, we had the chance to snorkel or swim to a beach and take a walk. Alisa, feeling seasick, and I, feeling discouraged, took a stroll on the idyllic beach.
Of course, once we left, it began to spit on us again. We had rum punch to lift our spirits. And those spirits stayed lifted through our barbecue lunch and straight out to the Nylon Pool.
The Nylon Pool is a ground-down coral reef about 500 meters from the nearest shoreline, but the water is only four feet deep, which makes for a great middle-of-the-ocean club.
At least at the Nylon Pool we saw a rainbow to make up for all of the rain. But, there it was again, the patter of the scattered showers. Which brought us right back to where we started.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Snorkeling : Feb. 23
So we went on this tour thing, right? And the morning's activity was snorkeling.
I think I have a funny-shaped face. And I can't breathe through only my mouth. Both of which led to only semi-productive snorkeling.
But we saw little squidlets!
Also, those coral reef movies where there are fish everywhere - I thought they were editing out the boring parts. Turns out, coral is just as inhabited as those movies make you think. Fishes!
Besides the squidlings, we saw blue and yellow fish, and growly-looking fish and really flat fish, and fan coral and brain coral and coral coral. I swallowed massive amounts of Caribbean Sea water (whatever wasn't in my eyes and nose) which kept me tided over until lunch at least. But survey says - Corinne is not very good at snorkeling
I think I have a funny-shaped face. And I can't breathe through only my mouth. Both of which led to only semi-productive snorkeling.
But we saw little squidlets!
Also, those coral reef movies where there are fish everywhere - I thought they were editing out the boring parts. Turns out, coral is just as inhabited as those movies make you think. Fishes!
Besides the squidlings, we saw blue and yellow fish, and growly-looking fish and really flat fish, and fan coral and brain coral and coral coral. I swallowed massive amounts of Caribbean Sea water (whatever wasn't in my eyes and nose) which kept me tided over until lunch at least. But survey says - Corinne is not very good at snorkeling
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Pigeon Point Park : Feb. 22
"Sea, sand, and love." That's what Dexter (or Phillip or Alex or whichever guy that was approaching us) told us.
After agreeing with Daryl to do our tour tomorrow, we went into Pigeon Point. Though you have to pay (gasp) $3 USD to get in, it was idyllic. There is a road through the palms with the ocean on your left. Boats are rocking in the waves just below the curve of the sand. Beach huts begin to appear, then a small, brightly colored market is nestled in the trees. You keep walking, until you hit the beach, and it's like your feet are melting into the soft sand. The surf is varied but always warm (but keeps you cool).
Around the curve of the beach (the point of Pigeon Point, I'm sure), is a cabana hut with a slow, but trustworthy, bartender (who is a bit tipsy himself). As he said, the three people you should trust are you taxi driver, your chef, and your bartender. So we trust away as he mixes drinks that we name after the girl who orders them. And, if you stay by the bar, he tops up your drink with liquor.
So you don't stay too close to the bar. You drift out to the welcoming sand where you can sit and chat and listen to the surf mingle with the sounds of your voices.
Close to 6, the sun begins to plunge toward the horizon. A playful dog comes up and you start the chase up and down the beach. When you get tired (and the sun is at the brim of the sea), you attempt a game of fetch, but inanimate objects are much less interesting.
So you pull out your camera for the two shots of the sun before it bottoms out in the sea. The dusky light allows not quite enough time to get back to the guesthouse, but the group dances back, making friends the whole way.
After agreeing with Daryl to do our tour tomorrow, we went into Pigeon Point. Though you have to pay (gasp) $3 USD to get in, it was idyllic. There is a road through the palms with the ocean on your left. Boats are rocking in the waves just below the curve of the sand. Beach huts begin to appear, then a small, brightly colored market is nestled in the trees. You keep walking, until you hit the beach, and it's like your feet are melting into the soft sand. The surf is varied but always warm (but keeps you cool).
Around the curve of the beach (the point of Pigeon Point, I'm sure), is a cabana hut with a slow, but trustworthy, bartender (who is a bit tipsy himself). As he said, the three people you should trust are you taxi driver, your chef, and your bartender. So we trust away as he mixes drinks that we name after the girl who orders them. And, if you stay by the bar, he tops up your drink with liquor.
So you don't stay too close to the bar. You drift out to the welcoming sand where you can sit and chat and listen to the surf mingle with the sounds of your voices.
Close to 6, the sun begins to plunge toward the horizon. A playful dog comes up and you start the chase up and down the beach. When you get tired (and the sun is at the brim of the sea), you attempt a game of fetch, but inanimate objects are much less interesting.
So you pull out your camera for the two shots of the sun before it bottoms out in the sea. The dusky light allows not quite enough time to get back to the guesthouse, but the group dances back, making friends the whole way.
Convenient Encounters : Feb. 22
We had barely finished checking in when two other American girls walked in the doors of our hotel. We started walking out for food not that much later, and they were right behind.
They are PLU (Pacific Lutheran) students, of all places, which is where half of my friends from my high school church went. They have been studying abroad since January and are here through May. And just happen to be the injection of fun we'll need on this island.
We headed toward food. It was dandy up until Daryl approached us. He had played with the Island People (Alisa and my band) and had trying to chat with us during Carnival (unsuccessfully). He had then been on our ferry (and Alisa recognized him). And now, he had finally trapped us.
But, he had a tour to sell, and whole he was taking us to the beach to get roti (which were delicious, the one they had left), he suckered us into (eh, maybe just sold us on) a day-long, all inclusive speedboat trip. There was fishing and drinking and beaches and musical and stingrays and partying. Like most T&T events. Well, maybe the stingray is a bit unique.
Regardless, we have tomorrow planned now. And the other American girls are headed out on Friday.
They are PLU (Pacific Lutheran) students, of all places, which is where half of my friends from my high school church went. They have been studying abroad since January and are here through May. And just happen to be the injection of fun we'll need on this island.
We headed toward food. It was dandy up until Daryl approached us. He had played with the Island People (Alisa and my band) and had trying to chat with us during Carnival (unsuccessfully). He had then been on our ferry (and Alisa recognized him). And now, he had finally trapped us.
But, he had a tour to sell, and whole he was taking us to the beach to get roti (which were delicious, the one they had left), he suckered us into (eh, maybe just sold us on) a day-long, all inclusive speedboat trip. There was fishing and drinking and beaches and musical and stingrays and partying. Like most T&T events. Well, maybe the stingray is a bit unique.
Regardless, we have tomorrow planned now. And the other American girls are headed out on Friday.
Bumpy Boat : Feb. 22
Alisa and I weathered a ten-minute rainstorm this morning to get to our ferry. Sharon (one of our hosts) continued her kindness by giving Alisa some anti-seasick pills. (Plug for them : Sharon and Wayne at Kiskadee Korner are wonderful. Look it up.)
It was 9am when we reached the port. All of the flights had been sold out, so this was our option.
The boat didn't board until 10am (when it was supposed to be leaving) but we found some seats roughly in the middle of the boat and started off.
Trinidad rises up from the sea into lush green hills. It was über-picturesque.
Then we got into the open ocean in the 20 or so miles that separate the islands, and it got choppy. Thankfully, Alisa was asleep. I had done my picture-taking already (but not on the iPhone, so no pics til later), and now just hunkered down, trying to avoid the sun coming through the window and also trying to nap.
We made it though. Welcome to Paradise, as our cab driver said.
It was 9am when we reached the port. All of the flights had been sold out, so this was our option.
The boat didn't board until 10am (when it was supposed to be leaving) but we found some seats roughly in the middle of the boat and started off.
Trinidad rises up from the sea into lush green hills. It was über-picturesque.
Then we got into the open ocean in the 20 or so miles that separate the islands, and it got choppy. Thankfully, Alisa was asleep. I had done my picture-taking already (but not on the iPhone, so no pics til later), and now just hunkered down, trying to avoid the sun coming through the window and also trying to nap.
We made it though. Welcome to Paradise, as our cab driver said.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Carnival! : Feb. 21
"It's Carnival!"
Alisa and I left this morning, dressed (or more like undressed) in our Carnival costumes, playing with the Island People.
We spent the first hour trying to find our band (since we were like 3 hours late, in true Trini style). But once we found them, we danced, drank, sang, and marched the day away.
We spent about two hours waiting for our turn to be judged at the main stage in Queen's Park Savannah, a park in Port of Spain. Alisa and I had to split up into our sections (Element and Kaimana, respectively) so I spent like half an hour dancing with strangers that were all also wearing blue across a giant platform between two sets of bleachers. Then I waited and watches every single other section go by until Alisa and I easily met up again.
Then it was partying down the Avenue. We were in our skimpy costumes, sweating like crazy anyway, and having a grand time.
Similarly to yesterday, we headed home before the sun went down. A bit dissimilarly, I was dancing the whole way back (which I can't tell if Alisa appreciated or not).
We changed, chatted with our hosts, then heated up some pizza from Sunday's dinner. And again, after eight hours of dancing, I'm sore, exhausted, and satisfied.
Alisa and I left this morning, dressed (or more like undressed) in our Carnival costumes, playing with the Island People.
We spent the first hour trying to find our band (since we were like 3 hours late, in true Trini style). But once we found them, we danced, drank, sang, and marched the day away.
We spent about two hours waiting for our turn to be judged at the main stage in Queen's Park Savannah, a park in Port of Spain. Alisa and I had to split up into our sections (Element and Kaimana, respectively) so I spent like half an hour dancing with strangers that were all also wearing blue across a giant platform between two sets of bleachers. Then I waited and watches every single other section go by until Alisa and I easily met up again.
Then it was partying down the Avenue. We were in our skimpy costumes, sweating like crazy anyway, and having a grand time.
Similarly to yesterday, we headed home before the sun went down. A bit dissimilarly, I was dancing the whole way back (which I can't tell if Alisa appreciated or not).
We changed, chatted with our hosts, then heated up some pizza from Sunday's dinner. And again, after eight hours of dancing, I'm sore, exhausted, and satisfied.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Stripper Sign Posts : Feb. 20
I have a wildly different view of all the signposts in Port of Spain.
We spent the day with the Island People Band. We wore the Spandex one-sleeved midriff-baring shirts with our shorts and dancing our way through the streets. There were the DJ trucks with heart-shaking bass interspersed with the beverage trucks, part of our all-inclusive package.
And there were the hoards of people, dancing along with us. "Wine" is a word we learned when we started reading up on this trip. It is basically grinding. And there was wining all over as we were going through the streets. And the signposts weren't spared.
We spent the day with the Island People Band. We wore the Spandex one-sleeved midriff-baring shirts with our shorts and dancing our way through the streets. There were the DJ trucks with heart-shaking bass interspersed with the beverage trucks, part of our all-inclusive package.
And there were the hoards of people, dancing along with us. "Wine" is a word we learned when we started reading up on this trip. It is basically grinding. And there was wining all over as we were going through the streets. And the signposts weren't spared.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Bake and Shark : Feb. 19
As Alvin, our cabdriver, said in barely comprehensible, Caribbean-accented English, "If you go to Maracas Beach and don't have bake and shark, you haven't gone to Maracas Beach." (Except he said something more like "IyagotaMaaraacaasBichndawntavebekenshark, yoohavantgoontaMaaraacaasBich." He was also a fan of the phrase "what really happened.") He recommended Patsy's, which was conveniently by (but not too close to) the showers and bathrooms
Bake and shark is fried fishy-something on a delicious breadroll bun. I would assume at least some of it is shark, though any assorted fish could be in it. There is then a buffet of fresh, delicious toppings and sauces.
I want one every day for lunch. There are enough combinations of sauces and toppings for me to indulge this whole trip. I only hope the beaches in Tobago have them!
Bake and shark is fried fishy-something on a delicious breadroll bun. I would assume at least some of it is shark, though any assorted fish could be in it. There is then a buffet of fresh, delicious toppings and sauces.
I want one every day for lunch. There are enough combinations of sauces and toppings for me to indulge this whole trip. I only hope the beaches in Tobago have them!
Miraculous Maracas : Feb. 19
Alisa was insistent that we go to the beach.
The SIM card that we picked up in the airport has been very useful (in my wonderful roommate's unlocked phone.) We called cab companies, got two quotes, and 45 minutes later were in the back of Alvin's taxi headed to Maracas Beach.
First, the drive. From the airport to Port of Spain is a flat bit between the ocean and this green mountain. The drive from Port of Spain to Maracas Beach is straight through and over the green hills, to the point where the green plunges down to meet the sea. As Alisa said, good thing we weren't driving because we couldn't have kept our eyes on the narrow, curvy road.
Second, the beach. White sand, palm trees, a little overcast in the morning, some odd sprinkles (while it was sunny) in the afternoon, and a while bay to play in.
We'll disregard the slight sunburn as a warning for the rest of the week.
The SIM card that we picked up in the airport has been very useful (in my wonderful roommate's unlocked phone.) We called cab companies, got two quotes, and 45 minutes later were in the back of Alvin's taxi headed to Maracas Beach.
First, the drive. From the airport to Port of Spain is a flat bit between the ocean and this green mountain. The drive from Port of Spain to Maracas Beach is straight through and over the green hills, to the point where the green plunges down to meet the sea. As Alisa said, good thing we weren't driving because we couldn't have kept our eyes on the narrow, curvy road.
Second, the beach. White sand, palm trees, a little overcast in the morning, some odd sprinkles (while it was sunny) in the afternoon, and a while bay to play in.
We'll disregard the slight sunburn as a warning for the rest of the week.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Costume Chaos : Feb. 18
Our only task for today was to pick up our costumes for Carnival.
Carnival in Trinidad is the largest in the Caribbean.* Hundreds of thousands flock into the tiny island.* The celebrations start up to two weeks before Ash Wednesday and culminate the Monday and Tuesday before.
"Playing with a band" or "playing mas," as they call it, means buying a package that includes a costume (yes, a ridiculous, skimpy costume), meals for Monday and Tuesday, and booze. Then, you travel in a giant horde all over the city, with your DJ trailers and toilet trailers and snack carts and bars-on-wheels.
At least, that is my understanding of it.
We are playing with the Island People (www.islandpeoplemas.com). Each band is split into sections with different costumes, so Alisa and I chose different sections and costumes. During the judging points, you have to stay with your section, but we'll be able to hang out otherwise. And look flashy in our bikinis. She's in Elemental, I'm in Kaimana. Have fun picturing us in that garb.
Today, we walked the ten minutes to the distribution point. There were lots of confusing lines, so I started standing in one while Alisa did recon. Turns out my section, because it was by a different designer, had no line at all!
But then we queued up for an hour and a half to get Alisa's gear. Her backpack wasn't ready yet, so we'll have to return again this evening.
When we got back to the guesthouse, it was fashion show time! But, we're not going to release photos to the public until Tuesday, when we have the hair and make-up, too. Be ready, because we're dazzling!
*Unverified fact that I might have heard somewhere.
Carnival in Trinidad is the largest in the Caribbean.* Hundreds of thousands flock into the tiny island.* The celebrations start up to two weeks before Ash Wednesday and culminate the Monday and Tuesday before.
"Playing with a band" or "playing mas," as they call it, means buying a package that includes a costume (yes, a ridiculous, skimpy costume), meals for Monday and Tuesday, and booze. Then, you travel in a giant horde all over the city, with your DJ trailers and toilet trailers and snack carts and bars-on-wheels.
At least, that is my understanding of it.
We are playing with the Island People (www.islandpeoplemas.com). Each band is split into sections with different costumes, so Alisa and I chose different sections and costumes. During the judging points, you have to stay with your section, but we'll be able to hang out otherwise. And look flashy in our bikinis. She's in Elemental, I'm in Kaimana. Have fun picturing us in that garb.
Today, we walked the ten minutes to the distribution point. There were lots of confusing lines, so I started standing in one while Alisa did recon. Turns out my section, because it was by a different designer, had no line at all!
But then we queued up for an hour and a half to get Alisa's gear. Her backpack wasn't ready yet, so we'll have to return again this evening.
When we got back to the guesthouse, it was fashion show time! But, we're not going to release photos to the public until Tuesday, when we have the hair and make-up, too. Be ready, because we're dazzling!
*Unverified fact that I might have heard somewhere.
Gorgeous Guesthouse : Feb. 18
Alisa and I have arrived! We got picked up at the airport and were whisked off to our idyllic guesthouse in the sunny tropics. I'm not even kidding. It is gorgeous. Landscaping and birds and coconut trees and a fountain.
Our bedroom is tiny but air-conditioned, which is all I ask.
Our bedroom is tiny but air-conditioned, which is all I ask.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Nail-biter in Newark: Feb. 17
I'll admit it. I left work late. I was enjoying trying to finish my project.
Then the metro station closed the entrance to our typical meeting point. I waited for Grandpa in the wrong spot.
We scarfed down dinner. Grandma asked which airport (thankfully), or we might have ended up at Dulles instead.
There was traffic, to add to the fact we were 30 minutes behind. Grandma was in the front reassuring us (and herself) the whole ride.
When we got to our connection in Newark, we weren't given seats. They were actually asking for volunteers to take a later flight. We were scared we were going to get bumped.
Then, the sun broke through. We got seats. We got McDonald's. (I got a shamrock shake.) We got exit row seats! Trinidad in the morning!
Then the metro station closed the entrance to our typical meeting point. I waited for Grandpa in the wrong spot.
We scarfed down dinner. Grandma asked which airport (thankfully), or we might have ended up at Dulles instead.
There was traffic, to add to the fact we were 30 minutes behind. Grandma was in the front reassuring us (and herself) the whole ride.
When we got to our connection in Newark, we weren't given seats. They were actually asking for volunteers to take a later flight. We were scared we were going to get bumped.
Then, the sun broke through. We got seats. We got McDonald's. (I got a shamrock shake.) We got exit row seats! Trinidad in the morning!
Friday, January 13, 2012
Thoughts : Sixth Day in Ghana
Today was supposed to be our last, and in most ways it was. We had our last day with the kids and said our goodbyes.
The morning was a typical lesson. We got in a little late again because we were trying to work out how our airport transportation was going to work. Since our wired money had not arrived yet, our contact said he didn't have enough cash on hand to hire a van. That was a fun morning surprise. However, everything is possible in
Ghana, including us hiring a van by ourselves. We know the art of the tro-tro.
While that was not the most pleasant way to begin the day, we've had worse. (Like the day before when our contact accused us of trying to cheat him and that we weren't doing enough to get the money to him. Mike and Lisa then spent the next five hours putting in place a contingency plan.)
But we arrived at the school to focus on the kids. Sara is going to design a brochure for the Street Academy, and Stephanie is going to do the writing, so they interviewed one of the kids (who also happened to be very bright and competent in English).
I spent the morning with my P-3s (and only 5 of them - little Daniel wasn't there). They were studiously copying sentences when I arrived, and when they were finished, I showed them pictures of my family, a picture of my high school graduation, and a picture of Zoe (our dog). They knew all the words for mother, father, sister, grandmother, and so forth, so I tuning they understood what I was showing them. Then I tried to explain my graduation picture, and it got confusing. They thought I was 12 or in grade 12, but it gave them some context, maybe. One of the teachers did ask about the mortarboard.
We spent the rest of the morning on English. We tried to read a book. Three of the boys could read nearly every word. Hannah (who I incorrectly called Anna the other day, since they have a hard time pronouncing their 'h's) didn't even know the alphabet however. She was a good guesser, but could clearly not read a word. Jibris (who I called Dubris the other day - still not sure how to spell it, but this is closer) could do very simple words, but was no where near the others in the class.
I can see why kids that fall behind, stay behind. It is hard to justify spending time on a kid with not even the basics and neglect the others who are clearly just as (or more so) willing to learn.
I had another surreal moment or two as the boys danced to the board to read or write, and as the goats wandered by outside.
We worked on "by", "under", "on", and "in", both with drawing and physically with a desk and the eraser. I was starting to get desperate for ideas at the end, so began to write out the Lord's Prayer, which they recite every assembly (morning and afternoon). That only sort of sunk in.
We went back towards the marketplace during the lunch time, to finish up our shopping and our cedis. When we got back, the school was a bit chaotic, since we were interrupting their routine with a farewell ceremony for us.
While it was getting set up, we tried to prevent the kids from fighting. We have all realized this is a much harsher and more physical culture then back in the States, especially for these kids in disadvantaged situations. We broke up fight after fight (some with sticks, some with clothes ripping, some with punches). It was one of my sadder interactions with the school. Kids being disrespectful or uninterested is one thing. Kids finding violence an acceptable means of expression is difficult to handle, especially when it is pervasive in the culture (like learning to box or even the more hands-on physical approach of the teachers).
In between the fights, Sara and Stephanie and I did the Hokie Pokey a few times. (My parents would be proud.)
The morning was a typical lesson. We got in a little late again because we were trying to work out how our airport transportation was going to work. Since our wired money had not arrived yet, our contact said he didn't have enough cash on hand to hire a van. That was a fun morning surprise. However, everything is possible in
Ghana, including us hiring a van by ourselves. We know the art of the tro-tro.
While that was not the most pleasant way to begin the day, we've had worse. (Like the day before when our contact accused us of trying to cheat him and that we weren't doing enough to get the money to him. Mike and Lisa then spent the next five hours putting in place a contingency plan.)
But we arrived at the school to focus on the kids. Sara is going to design a brochure for the Street Academy, and Stephanie is going to do the writing, so they interviewed one of the kids (who also happened to be very bright and competent in English).
I spent the morning with my P-3s (and only 5 of them - little Daniel wasn't there). They were studiously copying sentences when I arrived, and when they were finished, I showed them pictures of my family, a picture of my high school graduation, and a picture of Zoe (our dog). They knew all the words for mother, father, sister, grandmother, and so forth, so I tuning they understood what I was showing them. Then I tried to explain my graduation picture, and it got confusing. They thought I was 12 or in grade 12, but it gave them some context, maybe. One of the teachers did ask about the mortarboard.
We spent the rest of the morning on English. We tried to read a book. Three of the boys could read nearly every word. Hannah (who I incorrectly called Anna the other day, since they have a hard time pronouncing their 'h's) didn't even know the alphabet however. She was a good guesser, but could clearly not read a word. Jibris (who I called Dubris the other day - still not sure how to spell it, but this is closer) could do very simple words, but was no where near the others in the class.
I can see why kids that fall behind, stay behind. It is hard to justify spending time on a kid with not even the basics and neglect the others who are clearly just as (or more so) willing to learn.
I had another surreal moment or two as the boys danced to the board to read or write, and as the goats wandered by outside.
We worked on "by", "under", "on", and "in", both with drawing and physically with a desk and the eraser. I was starting to get desperate for ideas at the end, so began to write out the Lord's Prayer, which they recite every assembly (morning and afternoon). That only sort of sunk in.
We went back towards the marketplace during the lunch time, to finish up our shopping and our cedis. When we got back, the school was a bit chaotic, since we were interrupting their routine with a farewell ceremony for us.
While it was getting set up, we tried to prevent the kids from fighting. We have all realized this is a much harsher and more physical culture then back in the States, especially for these kids in disadvantaged situations. We broke up fight after fight (some with sticks, some with clothes ripping, some with punches). It was one of my sadder interactions with the school. Kids being disrespectful or uninterested is one thing. Kids finding violence an acceptable means of expression is difficult to handle, especially when it is pervasive in the culture (like learning to box or even the more hands-on physical approach of the teachers).
In between the fights, Sara and Stephanie and I did the Hokie Pokey a few times. (My parents would be proud.)
Thoughts : Fifth Day in Ghana
It's hard to believe that's it's only been five days. I'm still very glad I came. It was a struggle to be at all excited about this place, and I'm still trying to figure out how exactly I have been touched while I've been here.
Water. The awesomeness of accessible, clean water in the U.S. makes me very proud. No one does I dehydration in the States. Here, the Street Kids Academy have a water tank they have to fill in order for the kids to drink. And right now, finances are tight, so the $50 it would take to supply them for three weeks isn't there.
However, they have been feeding and providing the kids with bags of water for lunch, which, in this hot and humid climate, is not enough.
One of the activities in the afternoon, besides table tennis, is drumming and dance. As distracted and uninterested as the kids can be with their lessons, they are so focused and enthusiastic about dance. When coming up to answer questions on the board, Ishmael regularly dances he way up then does a little jig before getting down to business.
I watched a chicken scratching the dirt behind the school as I taught today. It was a bit surreal.
I've decided to ignore all the random spots and rashes I may (or may not) be developing. The mosquito bites are for real (and here's to malaria pills, hoping they'll work). And maybe that's a heat rash on my arm.
The other volunteers (all of which are German) are planning on staying much longer than we have been here - like three months to a year. I can't even imagine what a month here would be like. I suppose you adapt, but how do you get any sort of injury to heal? It just feels like it would be open and infected with all the dirt around.
We have had great luck with electricity though, thankfully. I've noticed some surges, but it has never gone out.
The beds and couches are made of this foam that conforms to you right away, then stays. Not very spongy, but more comfortable than a floor.
Let's talk about the kids. I don't mention them very much, which is sad. They have experienced such different backgrounds than us that it is hard to imagine what they must go through. Luis is constantly telling them to make sure they get their friends to come to school, since that is the only way they get kids.
They are a pretty scrappy group. There is a lot of fighting, with a lot of hits and rude comments (or whatever rude would translate to in Twi).
My group jumped from four to six today (with the total amount of kids at afternoon assembly being a little over 40). Me and "non-vest" Daniel (one of the teachers) had the two student Daniels (the younger one and the troublemaker one), Anna (the only girl in the group, and looks older than the others), Michael (the bossy one), Dubris (the picked-on but pushy one), and Ishmael (the attention-seeker).
They are quite the guess-and-check-ers. They will make part of a number, then look at me for approval. It is hard to figure out the balance (especially when "no teaching" is sometimes being yelled from the other kids.)
The kids, after they have done something on the board, often are told "clap for them!" meaning that some I'd them do a 1-2, 1-2-3, 1 clap pattern in unison (or roughly thereabouts).
We learned something called "2-4-6-1-1-gato-gato" yesterday with the kids. After a slide and clap beginning, you then "high ten" the other person twice, then four times after the next chorus, then six, then one, then one, then back to two until you mess up. Then you point the finger in blame and start again.
While teaching my kids "Go Fish" today, I realized how difficult it was for them to take turns. It was a mad scramble. And it's a sad thought to think that in survival, there is no turn-taking when it comes down to it. Grab for the water, food, money, attention.
The cameras are an intrigue for all the students. They want to see themselves, and also want to take pictures. Mayer I could use that to my advantage tomorrow.
I could think up some things to do. Words are a struggle, so we played "I Spy" where I wrote down the word to see if they could read then find it. Once I said it aloud, they could get body parts, but not from just the text. I think we'll try rhyming and words that start with the same letter tomorrow.
Water. The awesomeness of accessible, clean water in the U.S. makes me very proud. No one does I dehydration in the States. Here, the Street Kids Academy have a water tank they have to fill in order for the kids to drink. And right now, finances are tight, so the $50 it would take to supply them for three weeks isn't there.
However, they have been feeding and providing the kids with bags of water for lunch, which, in this hot and humid climate, is not enough.
One of the activities in the afternoon, besides table tennis, is drumming and dance. As distracted and uninterested as the kids can be with their lessons, they are so focused and enthusiastic about dance. When coming up to answer questions on the board, Ishmael regularly dances he way up then does a little jig before getting down to business.
I watched a chicken scratching the dirt behind the school as I taught today. It was a bit surreal.
I've decided to ignore all the random spots and rashes I may (or may not) be developing. The mosquito bites are for real (and here's to malaria pills, hoping they'll work). And maybe that's a heat rash on my arm.
The other volunteers (all of which are German) are planning on staying much longer than we have been here - like three months to a year. I can't even imagine what a month here would be like. I suppose you adapt, but how do you get any sort of injury to heal? It just feels like it would be open and infected with all the dirt around.
We have had great luck with electricity though, thankfully. I've noticed some surges, but it has never gone out.
The beds and couches are made of this foam that conforms to you right away, then stays. Not very spongy, but more comfortable than a floor.
Let's talk about the kids. I don't mention them very much, which is sad. They have experienced such different backgrounds than us that it is hard to imagine what they must go through. Luis is constantly telling them to make sure they get their friends to come to school, since that is the only way they get kids.
They are a pretty scrappy group. There is a lot of fighting, with a lot of hits and rude comments (or whatever rude would translate to in Twi).
My group jumped from four to six today (with the total amount of kids at afternoon assembly being a little over 40). Me and "non-vest" Daniel (one of the teachers) had the two student Daniels (the younger one and the troublemaker one), Anna (the only girl in the group, and looks older than the others), Michael (the bossy one), Dubris (the picked-on but pushy one), and Ishmael (the attention-seeker).
They are quite the guess-and-check-ers. They will make part of a number, then look at me for approval. It is hard to figure out the balance (especially when "no teaching" is sometimes being yelled from the other kids.)
The kids, after they have done something on the board, often are told "clap for them!" meaning that some I'd them do a 1-2, 1-2-3, 1 clap pattern in unison (or roughly thereabouts).
We learned something called "2-4-6-1-1-gato-gato" yesterday with the kids. After a slide and clap beginning, you then "high ten" the other person twice, then four times after the next chorus, then six, then one, then one, then back to two until you mess up. Then you point the finger in blame and start again.
While teaching my kids "Go Fish" today, I realized how difficult it was for them to take turns. It was a mad scramble. And it's a sad thought to think that in survival, there is no turn-taking when it comes down to it. Grab for the water, food, money, attention.
The cameras are an intrigue for all the students. They want to see themselves, and also want to take pictures. Mayer I could use that to my advantage tomorrow.
I could think up some things to do. Words are a struggle, so we played "I Spy" where I wrote down the word to see if they could read then find it. Once I said it aloud, they could get body parts, but not from just the text. I think we'll try rhyming and words that start with the same letter tomorrow.
Thoughts : Fourth Day in Ghana
Since I didn't actually post anything about my day (because the Internet cut out), I should probably mention that a bit.
When we were split up into small groups this morning, I was given four kids of varying skill levels. Ebenezer was exhausted. He slept for most of the lesson. He could write his name and was happy drawing houses.
Nathaniel was awake and ready to learn. He practiced his name quite a few times, and we almost got to the point where his 'e' wasn't backwards. Almost.
Leticia was doing a good job reading all the small words on the page. She was struggling with comprehension though. Her grasp of English wasn't enough for her to understand what I was asking. We learned the word 'bird' together.
Ishmael and Ezekial were good readers, so after we all read through a story, I let them figure out how to draw a cow. They weren't very confident in their drawing skills, so copied a cow from the book. Then one of the German volunteers (Morris?) separated them out and read more with them.
Unlike America, kids came and went as they pleased. Most understood the general rules to the place (more than even we did, since who knew what the next bell ring would bring or what it would bring).
The school is by no means a closed premise. We have the small neighborhood children peeking in on us. We can see other adults from the neighborhood walking by and looking in. There was a stray puppy rooting through the garbage.
I am always curious if any of the things I'm doing are offensive, accidentally. Like a thumbs up. Or winking. Or crossing my eyes.
I've been teaching (and making up) simple games that require little to no English, since even at the highest level have a hard time comprehending our questions (though they can follow the daily orders with loud insistence).
We are all used to a much more comprehension-based type of learning. The rout knowledge the kids have is incredible, but they can't extract the knowledge from the memorized songs. Maybe we are just not used to this age and what they can and cannot understand, but we aren't using manipulatives to help turn the abstract into real concepts.
The teachers at the school are mostly volunteers, since their salary can't sustain them. A few of them are former Street Academy students themselves, so there is success in the organization.
The schoolhouse reminds me of one-room schoolhouses. They have the desk-chair attachments (with the chairs being not wide enough for me for any length of time). They have wooden partitions that they can move to divide the room into sections. There are two whiteboards on the walls and one or two mobile boards, which are a blessing since paper even is a commodity.
Thankfully, books aren't. They have a library with a bunch of books for early readers, which is what most of the students are. The sad part is, most of these kids aren't in literate households (if in households at all), so these kids only get exposed to it at school for a few hours each day.
Because it is the dry season, many of the kids were asking for water. The Academy makes sure that they have a free meal every day, but right now, don't have the water to go with it., somehow.
Bathrooms are probably the least I anyone's worries, but the toilets behind the school are two separated flats of concrete, that might possibly slope toward a hole in the corner that drains who knows where.
There are computers in the teacher's area (which is a little bigger than a walk-in closet), which surprised me. They were being used on the teachers' break by the teachers to play games, and there is future desire to have a computer lab with Internet behind the school in another small building nearby.
We have been showering at night, after sweating most of the day. It is short -lived as the humidity and heat makes it seem like you never dry off after a wonderful cold shower.
This group has been a blessing. Everyone speaks their mind and problem-solves, looking for the easiest answer to the group's desires. We have nearly stopped complaining about the heat, thought have just reminded each other with "interesting" news of where sweat is dripping now or how many ounces could come out of a worn shirt.
Another blessing has been Matthieus. He has been so fatherly and protecting, constantly going out of his way to make sure we are getting why we need.
When we were split up into small groups this morning, I was given four kids of varying skill levels. Ebenezer was exhausted. He slept for most of the lesson. He could write his name and was happy drawing houses.
Nathaniel was awake and ready to learn. He practiced his name quite a few times, and we almost got to the point where his 'e' wasn't backwards. Almost.
Leticia was doing a good job reading all the small words on the page. She was struggling with comprehension though. Her grasp of English wasn't enough for her to understand what I was asking. We learned the word 'bird' together.
Ishmael and Ezekial were good readers, so after we all read through a story, I let them figure out how to draw a cow. They weren't very confident in their drawing skills, so copied a cow from the book. Then one of the German volunteers (Morris?) separated them out and read more with them.
Unlike America, kids came and went as they pleased. Most understood the general rules to the place (more than even we did, since who knew what the next bell ring would bring or what it would bring).
The school is by no means a closed premise. We have the small neighborhood children peeking in on us. We can see other adults from the neighborhood walking by and looking in. There was a stray puppy rooting through the garbage.
I am always curious if any of the things I'm doing are offensive, accidentally. Like a thumbs up. Or winking. Or crossing my eyes.
I've been teaching (and making up) simple games that require little to no English, since even at the highest level have a hard time comprehending our questions (though they can follow the daily orders with loud insistence).
We are all used to a much more comprehension-based type of learning. The rout knowledge the kids have is incredible, but they can't extract the knowledge from the memorized songs. Maybe we are just not used to this age and what they can and cannot understand, but we aren't using manipulatives to help turn the abstract into real concepts.
The teachers at the school are mostly volunteers, since their salary can't sustain them. A few of them are former Street Academy students themselves, so there is success in the organization.
The schoolhouse reminds me of one-room schoolhouses. They have the desk-chair attachments (with the chairs being not wide enough for me for any length of time). They have wooden partitions that they can move to divide the room into sections. There are two whiteboards on the walls and one or two mobile boards, which are a blessing since paper even is a commodity.
Thankfully, books aren't. They have a library with a bunch of books for early readers, which is what most of the students are. The sad part is, most of these kids aren't in literate households (if in households at all), so these kids only get exposed to it at school for a few hours each day.
Because it is the dry season, many of the kids were asking for water. The Academy makes sure that they have a free meal every day, but right now, don't have the water to go with it., somehow.
Bathrooms are probably the least I anyone's worries, but the toilets behind the school are two separated flats of concrete, that might possibly slope toward a hole in the corner that drains who knows where.
There are computers in the teacher's area (which is a little bigger than a walk-in closet), which surprised me. They were being used on the teachers' break by the teachers to play games, and there is future desire to have a computer lab with Internet behind the school in another small building nearby.
We have been showering at night, after sweating most of the day. It is short -lived as the humidity and heat makes it seem like you never dry off after a wonderful cold shower.
This group has been a blessing. Everyone speaks their mind and problem-solves, looking for the easiest answer to the group's desires. We have nearly stopped complaining about the heat, thought have just reminded each other with "interesting" news of where sweat is dripping now or how many ounces could come out of a worn shirt.
Another blessing has been Matthieus. He has been so fatherly and protecting, constantly going out of his way to make sure we are getting why we need.
Thoughts and Reactions: Third Day in Ghana
We pulled up to a building just like many of the indistinguishable brown and concrete buildings around it except for an alphabet painted on the wall. And the chattering of kids as we approached.
There were not really roads to the building either. Or it was hard to tell what was roads in the midst of the red dust and gutters.
The kids were in undershirts and shorts when we encountered them in the morning. We discovered why when they changed back into their school uniform to go back to their communities.
"Communities" is what one of the main workers at the Street Kids Academy called wherever these kids went back to. That was where they slept and might have been slightly taken care of. Luis was saying he didn't want them removed from their communities like they do at orphanages. I think one of the reasons is for them to get their peers to come as well.
The kids were calling us "sir" and "madame." They also use "boss" for others when they are calling them.
We have been eating delicious vegetarian dishes with rice every night for dinner. Tonight we even had the most delicious and tasteful bananas I've ever had. We've passed some delicious looking fruit and have just now been able to try it, in the smoothies from this afternoon as well those heavenly bananas.
There were not really roads to the building either. Or it was hard to tell what was roads in the midst of the red dust and gutters.
The kids were in undershirts and shorts when we encountered them in the morning. We discovered why when they changed back into their school uniform to go back to their communities.
"Communities" is what one of the main workers at the Street Kids Academy called wherever these kids went back to. That was where they slept and might have been slightly taken care of. Luis was saying he didn't want them removed from their communities like they do at orphanages. I think one of the reasons is for them to get their peers to come as well.
The kids were calling us "sir" and "madame." They also use "boss" for others when they are calling them.
We have been eating delicious vegetarian dishes with rice every night for dinner. Tonight we even had the most delicious and tasteful bananas I've ever had. We've passed some delicious looking fruit and have just now been able to try it, in the smoothies from this afternoon as well those heavenly bananas.
Heaven Above; Hell Bellow: Our Second Day in Ghana
It was a Sunday, so we were given our porridge and Constance rushed off to church.
We met up with Eben and Matthaues, who were going to spend the day with us. Our first mission: finding transportation.
We wanted to go up and down the coast, a 70-mile journey (so at least two hours of driving through traffic and on the toll road). Thankfully, we found a driver we could hire for the day (with a car with air-conditioning)!
We spent two hours driving through the outskirts of Accra. Then the green hills west of here. Then patches of little villages where the green dissolved back into the red soil and brightly painted huts and people sprung up.
We were reaching some pretty great speeds, so we made it in less than the three hours expected on the way there.
Our first castle of the day was Elamira. This was originally built by the Portuguese, taken over by the Dutch, then commandeered by the British until Ghana got their independence.
We walked through the dark caverns of the slave dungeons. The guide described the horrible suffering of the separated male and female slaves for up to three months until they were sent through the "Door of No Return" to the waiting ships to be transported to the West.
We went to the Cape Coast Castle next for a bite to eat at a fairly tourist-centric nearby. The menu was more a process of elimination than a menu. We toured the slightly larger but fairly similar castle.
In both castles, the cells of the slaves were on a floor below the church, symbolizing, as the guide said, the heaven above and hell below.
The awful memories of the castles were surrounded by the beauty of the ocean. The waves were capping on beaches, either with a pair of men in flip-flops with a mission or on a busy outcropping where half of the splashes were for work and the other half were for pleasure.
We met up with Eben and Matthaues, who were going to spend the day with us. Our first mission: finding transportation.
We wanted to go up and down the coast, a 70-mile journey (so at least two hours of driving through traffic and on the toll road). Thankfully, we found a driver we could hire for the day (with a car with air-conditioning)!
We spent two hours driving through the outskirts of Accra. Then the green hills west of here. Then patches of little villages where the green dissolved back into the red soil and brightly painted huts and people sprung up.
We were reaching some pretty great speeds, so we made it in less than the three hours expected on the way there.
Our first castle of the day was Elamira. This was originally built by the Portuguese, taken over by the Dutch, then commandeered by the British until Ghana got their independence.
We walked through the dark caverns of the slave dungeons. The guide described the horrible suffering of the separated male and female slaves for up to three months until they were sent through the "Door of No Return" to the waiting ships to be transported to the West.
We went to the Cape Coast Castle next for a bite to eat at a fairly tourist-centric nearby. The menu was more a process of elimination than a menu. We toured the slightly larger but fairly similar castle.
In both castles, the cells of the slaves were on a floor below the church, symbolizing, as the guide said, the heaven above and hell below.
The awful memories of the castles were surrounded by the beauty of the ocean. The waves were capping on beaches, either with a pair of men in flip-flops with a mission or on a busy outcropping where half of the splashes were for work and the other half were for pleasure.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Head of the Household : Sixth Day in Ghana
It was our last day at the school, and we had our typical journey on a tro-tro into Accra, passing the typical shacks and huts with corrugated tin roofs.
Then the power went out in the internet cafe right after we found out our flight was delayed 10 hours.
So I'll see you all in the States tomorrow afternoon instead of morning. :P
Then the power went out in the internet cafe right after we found out our flight was delayed 10 hours.
So I'll see you all in the States tomorrow afternoon instead of morning. :P
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
It's a Circus: Fifth Day in Ghana
Besides the troubles getting here, we've been having difficulties paying our participation fee because of miscommunications. International checks weren't fast enough, and so we've been going through this rigmarole. Today, Lisa and Mike have been working on it completely and whole-heartedly, and we are so grateful to them.
The six of us (current or former) CMU students worked with the kids. We were again divided into classrooms (thankfully), but pretty much left on our own after that. I tried to teach the kids Uno and Go Fish, with moderate success (and with quite a bit of Twi cheating that I couldn't stop or understand). We also did a bit of review of fractions, did some work with making multiplication squares, and then, thankfully, it was time for lunch.
The director pulled Sarah and I aside to ask about continued relations. We want to help (once I tell my co-workers that I'm learning table tennis alongside some Ghanaian children, I think they will be excited to help) and we were asking how best to help in the future. He was excited about volunteers coming, but I think that much of what we can to do help can come from the U.S. They need money (even just money for water for the children right now) though help with a bunch of children is really always needed.
The afternoon was more of the morning (except with very tired, hot kids) and then it was activity time. I watched a dance, then went back to the ping-pong I played yesterday.
We had plans to go to the beach, but best laid plans aren't really plans at all in Ghana. We went shopping instead. I have been ripped off, but at least I bargain it down to half of the rip-off that it was originally.
It's one more hot night, and then back to the creature comforts of home. And the cold weather. I'm ready to not have mosquitoes at night. And sweating. Oh, sweating...
Barely Controlled Chaos: Fourth Day in Ghana
We started the morning again at 6:30am (though it was a bit more challenging today than other days... guess we are adjusting to the time?). Porridge and sugar cubes for breakfast.
We had quite a morning with the kids. We were expecting more kids today, but the 22 that showed up were still a bit under what we expected (up to 200, we've been told).
Since we were in groups most of the day, I can only only really say from my perspective what happened, which was a lot of math and some English and trying to figure out what discipline is around here.
More to come later!
More to come later!
Monday, January 9, 2012
Left Hand or Right Hand: The Third Day in Ghana
Yesterday, we did a tour of Cape Castle, Elamina Castle, and saw the sea for the first time (yay!) I also had squid for lunch (and was not sick at all. Also yay!)
Today, though, it is a Monday, so we got to head to the Street Kids Academy for our first day of volunteering. We headed out at our usual 7:30 (when we are already getting a little sweaty in the shade) and took a tro-tro to the Academy.
We arrived and were slightly mobbed by kids. We got many handshakes and greetings from the 12 or so children that were around today. The school wasn't opening until tomorrow, officially, but today was a spring-cleaning and slightly less organized kind of day.
We first had introductions from the director, the teachers, the day-to-day manager, and some of the other volunteers (a few Germans). We then went into a session of hangman (where they pulled out some impressive words like "hippopotamus" and "communication").
In the last year or so, they have used the help of volunteers and some cameras, they had created a few movies, with the kids acting and writing scripts. I was very impressed with the quality, and it was a good lull to the day.
We went off to a fancy resort for lunch, and had our Ghanaian specials of the day, with refreshing drinks and smoothies. We were much closer to the water than we expected, so got to see a (pretty dirty) beach.
When we got back, we were officially mobbed. The kids all knew us now, so it was a crazy jumping-hugging-screaming mass that created us. I pulled out the frisbee I brought, and started getting really sweaty.
Over the years, I have developed a no-physical-lifting policy when around large groups of children, because it always leads to more kids wanting more piggyback rides. Some of the group were much less stingy with their muscle, and soon the frisbee was being tossed from the shoulders of Mike, Sarah, and Stephanie (as well as some of the older kids with the younger kids).
The little kids were being entirely left out, so we started a "is the rock in the right hand or left hand" game. It was great: there were enough small rocks to go around! Everyone could play!
We ended the day a bit more quietly, by pulling out the paper and doing a drawing exercise. "I like ____" Some kids drew football, drawing, or swimming. Some wrote that they liked women and "Sir Michael" (who was either Mike or one of the students; never really figured that one out).
We had stayed pretty late at that point, until 4pm or so. Matthaeus had to be to work at 6pm, so we found a tro-tro in the crowded lot and headed home, sweaty and fulfilled. Tomorrow might be more orderly chaos, since school is officially in session. Maybe. Probably not.
Today, though, it is a Monday, so we got to head to the Street Kids Academy for our first day of volunteering. We headed out at our usual 7:30 (when we are already getting a little sweaty in the shade) and took a tro-tro to the Academy.
We arrived and were slightly mobbed by kids. We got many handshakes and greetings from the 12 or so children that were around today. The school wasn't opening until tomorrow, officially, but today was a spring-cleaning and slightly less organized kind of day.
We first had introductions from the director, the teachers, the day-to-day manager, and some of the other volunteers (a few Germans). We then went into a session of hangman (where they pulled out some impressive words like "hippopotamus" and "communication").
In the last year or so, they have used the help of volunteers and some cameras, they had created a few movies, with the kids acting and writing scripts. I was very impressed with the quality, and it was a good lull to the day.
We went off to a fancy resort for lunch, and had our Ghanaian specials of the day, with refreshing drinks and smoothies. We were much closer to the water than we expected, so got to see a (pretty dirty) beach.
When we got back, we were officially mobbed. The kids all knew us now, so it was a crazy jumping-hugging-screaming mass that created us. I pulled out the frisbee I brought, and started getting really sweaty.
Over the years, I have developed a no-physical-lifting policy when around large groups of children, because it always leads to more kids wanting more piggyback rides. Some of the group were much less stingy with their muscle, and soon the frisbee was being tossed from the shoulders of Mike, Sarah, and Stephanie (as well as some of the older kids with the younger kids).
The little kids were being entirely left out, so we started a "is the rock in the right hand or left hand" game. It was great: there were enough small rocks to go around! Everyone could play!
We ended the day a bit more quietly, by pulling out the paper and doing a drawing exercise. "I like ____" Some kids drew football, drawing, or swimming. Some wrote that they liked women and "Sir Michael" (who was either Mike or one of the students; never really figured that one out).
We had stayed pretty late at that point, until 4pm or so. Matthaeus had to be to work at 6pm, so we found a tro-tro in the crowded lot and headed home, sweaty and fulfilled. Tomorrow might be more orderly chaos, since school is officially in session. Maybe. Probably not.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Third Time is the Charm: First Day in Ghana
We got in this morning at 6am, after a 10-hour flight. We were delayed waiting for more "provisions", but all in all, we made it. After passport challenges and flight delays, we made it.
We found our guide, Eben, and his very friendly volunteer, Matthaeus. We spent a little bit waiting at the airport, a little bit getting to the van, a little bit driving to our homestay, a little bit meeting Constance and her son, a little bit changing clothes, a little bit debating about how to pay our participation fee, a little bit eating some oatmeal, and a little bit waiting for some water. Then we were raring* to go.
(*"Raring" is pretty generous for the delirious state we were in, with 0-4 hours of sleep each. But we didn't want to sleep.)
Our first stop was the National Museum, where Matthaeus got us a tour of all the cultural heritage artifacts they had on display. It was a very thorough tour, so by the end we were dragging a bit. But we pressed on, heading to the monument to the first president.
But once we got there, we found a garden that was a little dusty, a monument, and a bridal party. But not enough to pay the 6 cedis (and the extra time) to go into what was also a small museum.
Instead, we were all gungho to go to the market. And were we in for a surprise.
It was crowded. And cramped. And we had quite the time making sure all 8 of us were within shouting distance (which isn't that far when it's that loud and crowded.)
And there was everything under the sun to buy, but we were too busy navigating to get anything! We will try again at the Art Center (also, maybe, a market) to get more of the crafts that we want.
And now, naptime?
We found our guide, Eben, and his very friendly volunteer, Matthaeus. We spent a little bit waiting at the airport, a little bit getting to the van, a little bit driving to our homestay, a little bit meeting Constance and her son, a little bit changing clothes, a little bit debating about how to pay our participation fee, a little bit eating some oatmeal, and a little bit waiting for some water. Then we were raring* to go.
(*"Raring" is pretty generous for the delirious state we were in, with 0-4 hours of sleep each. But we didn't want to sleep.)
Our first stop was the National Museum, where Matthaeus got us a tour of all the cultural heritage artifacts they had on display. It was a very thorough tour, so by the end we were dragging a bit. But we pressed on, heading to the monument to the first president.
But once we got there, we found a garden that was a little dusty, a monument, and a bridal party. But not enough to pay the 6 cedis (and the extra time) to go into what was also a small museum.
Instead, we were all gungho to go to the market. And were we in for a surprise.
It was crowded. And cramped. And we had quite the time making sure all 8 of us were within shouting distance (which isn't that far when it's that loud and crowded.)
And there was everything under the sun to buy, but we were too busy navigating to get anything! We will try again at the Art Center (also, maybe, a market) to get more of the crafts that we want.
And now, naptime?
Friday, January 6, 2012
Curses! Foiled Again: A One Day Delay
We made it to the airport. We got on the plane. We pushed away from the gate.
Then we heard the announcement: "We are waiting for the ground crew to help us park."
That was the opposite of what we wanted to do.
Long story short, our back-up pressurizer was broken. So we have a 16-hour delay. Our 11pm flight is now a 3pm flight.
On the bright side, we are bonding, get to spend the night in a hotel (even if it isn't with our full luggage), and really aren't missing much of our time in Ghana (getting in at 2pm Friday versus now getting in at 6am on Saturday).
Cross your fingers for tomorrow.
Then we heard the announcement: "We are waiting for the ground crew to help us park."
That was the opposite of what we wanted to do.
Long story short, our back-up pressurizer was broken. So we have a 16-hour delay. Our 11pm flight is now a 3pm flight.
On the bright side, we are bonding, get to spend the night in a hotel (even if it isn't with our full luggage), and really aren't missing much of our time in Ghana (getting in at 2pm Friday versus now getting in at 6am on Saturday).
Cross your fingers for tomorrow.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
This Time for Africa: DC to Accra
It's 4 hours until my plane leaves for Ghana with me and seven other CMU students, staff, alums and chaperones. This trip was supposed to happen February of last year (aren't those lyrics to a song?) but was rescheduled when our passports and visas were lost in the mail.
But now, it's finally happening. We got a change of plans from our coordinator two days ago. We will be volunteering at the Street Kids Academy with homeless youth. Schools in Ghana are all private, so many kids and families can't afford an education. This facility helps those children who are on the street.
I'm excited to have this experience. I haven't done any volunteering since I started working, and maybe this will be my impetus to find something I'm passionate about around my area, instead of always traveling halfway around the world to find it.
But now, it's finally happening. We got a change of plans from our coordinator two days ago. We will be volunteering at the Street Kids Academy with homeless youth. Schools in Ghana are all private, so many kids and families can't afford an education. This facility helps those children who are on the street.
I'm excited to have this experience. I haven't done any volunteering since I started working, and maybe this will be my impetus to find something I'm passionate about around my area, instead of always traveling halfway around the world to find it.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
It's the New Year! How about a card?
For all of you to whom I couldn't mail a card, Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! Here's the card (pdf).
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