Making Friends in Ghana

Before getting into the thick of things, let me first say that it is so refreshing to log into Facebook and see people talking about normal, mundane, every-day things. It seems funny to me now that I used to make fun of Twitter and status updates for their irrelevance. Now I can do nothing to hide my excitement over listening to and reading every small detail of the going-ons in America - anything to feel connected and normal.

Our training has officially begun, which means that we've split off by sector and - having learned our site assignmens two days ago - our site-specific languages. It's become quite normal to re-organize our worlds at the drop of a hat, but it hasn't made it easier to deal with friends being stationed somewhere far away. I had a small moment of panic, learning that my site (in the Upper East) was one of two in the region recieving new volunteers from our group. After such an overwhelming first twenty days in Ghana (and plenty more to come until, at least, August 12), I was finding it hard to see the trees through the forest. If I'm being honest, I haven't quite recovered, but I spent the morning reading letters from my family and friends - the letters that remind me why I came and why I'm capable for this job - and I'm feeling much better ... much more grounded.

It's really a slippery slope we walk - it's not that we're alone, it's just that we're very seperate. This is a feeling that most of us have never really felt, a part from being independent and comfortable as individuals, willingly sending ourselves into a foreign land is such a startling experience. You really can't do much to prepare. This morning I found myself feeling completely inadequate in any and all conversation regarding Twi. Forgetting completely the magic words, "Be patient with yourself," I began to feel some self-doubt leaking up under my springs. It isn't that there aren't plenty of people offering help and guidance and friendship. The people here are so welcoming and willing to teach. It's not that I'm not totally open to what I've gotten myself into. I'm taking all of the opportunities thrown my way to interact and enjoy this awesome experience, but sometimes it's still really hard to find the tiny Thomas the Train in my brain.

I only really feel alone at night underneath the Mosquito-net, when the sounds I'm still getting used to are surrounding me on every side, and the darkness curls into the window like a sheet. And I suppose 'aloneness' isn't really all that bad, but knowing that I'll be alone for most of the next two years is surreal. I still cannot believe that I've gotten myself to Ghana. This is all so strange to me, that I'm sitting smack-dab in the middle of one of my biggest accomplishments to date. Even stranger is that my family is so far removed from the experience. It makes me feel stronger, but slightly discombobulated. Like my umbilical chord is stretched too thin.

Now, I don't mean to make anyone think that I'm not enjoying myself. I'm just working through some of the first feelings at the moment. I'm sure there will be fountains of them to come. For now I will tell you that my homestay mum is a jolly woman who I am sure is plotting ways to MAKE ME FAT. She also had me eat an ENTIRE pineapple today after eating lunch because she knew it was one of my favorites. She laughed when I told her I would explode if she kept trying to feed me so much. The kids at the house are sweet and love playing frisbee. We watch lots of football and everyone loves to watch my reactions, laughing and slapping their knees in response to almost anything I do. I'm actually okay with the fishbowl situation here, it keeps things interesting and keeps me as grounded as I can get.

There is so much to write about, you have no idea. Including a two day hiatus in the Sick Bay at our training site (anyone else thinking Star Trek?) ... The other PCTs were betting back and forth whether I had Malaria or not, it got so bad. Apparently I was the only one on my side: I WIN.

As for now, I have a sensative stomach that grows suddenly shy around latrines (you have to be here to know why). Coca Cola is my new favorite treat, even though I hated how sweet it was in the states. I am currently bombarded with random obsessive thoughts involving Pringles and Chewy granola bars - even though the latter hasn't touched my lips in years. My Malaria pills makes movies obsolete when I sleep because my dreams are AWESOME. My old roommate was glad to finally have a room to herself at homestay because I didnt chatter at her all night long. And goat bleets are possibly the best random comedic relief you could possibly have ANYWHERE.

I suppose I should sign off for now, next time I'll try to be a little more organized (though no promises ... something tells me my organisational skills are about to go right out the window), but I am hoping everyone is well and have officially clocked 20 days as a Peace Corps Trainee! Please be sending letters. I may not get them quickly and my replies may take even longer, but like I said above: there is nothing more relaxing than to hear about the normal stuff I'm missing back home. Below is a temp address, I will post the permanent address when I get it:

Emmaline Repp, PCT
Peace Corps Ghana
PO Box 5796
Accra-North, Ghana
West Africa

xx

GO BLACK STARS!!!

Greetings from Ghana!

I am typing up a quick hello from an internet cafe' in Wa to let you all know that I am in good spirits and doing very well (though very hot). I am having troubles accessing Facebook because of the lengthy security check and slow connection here, so hopefully there are some who will check here and pass the message on.

I am enjoying my experience immensely. The people here are most welcoming and the trainees are all people I am proud to know. Training is soon to start, we are traveling down to Kukurantumbi tomorrow, and that's where the hard stuff will begin. Many of you will start getting piles and piles of letters, as I will finally have some downtime and will realize how much I miss everyone! I do so wish I had constant connection so that I could share all of these awesome experiences all the time, but for now I will settle for a couple of minutes and a few meager sentences.

I am excited to learn the language of my area, we will be given our assignments within the next week, and cannot wait to get to know the people in my surrounding area. Fellow trainee Nikki and I spent the last couple of days on our Vision Quest staying with a PCV in Jiripa. We were proud of ourselves for traveling so far and alone ... now that we've tackled a twelve hour trip, local tro-tros and cars won't seem half as daunting once we get into the fray! Spending the day at the market and heading to Bole tonight to meet with two others who will travel down with us tomorrow.

I will unfortunately be missing the US World Cup game tomorrow, but am excited to see a game tonight and spend the evening watching Ghana play on Sunday - I plan on watching it with some locals. The food is fantastic and, so far, I haven't had any troubles or sicknesses. A head cold attacked me for the last two days, but is fast disappearing.

I only have a few minutes left so I will sign off for now. Know that I am happy and loving everything about Ghana. It is definitely sensory overload!!

xx

On Packing Lightly

Inspiration: 

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us ... Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do ... It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

-marianne williamson

I'm slowly packing up my life.

After simplifying, all of my belongings magically fit into four 60 gallon tubs. Who knew that such small containers could store so much of my life? With every rolled garment of clothing, neatly stacked and organized, it's starting to settle in that I'm starting an entirely new life; a life that fits neatly into a medium sized duffle bag. Have you ever fit the necessities of your life into a duffel bag? It's a strange feeling ... knowing you can carry your life on your back. Oddly satisfying, in fact.

I'm simultaneously nervous and anxious - nervous for the unknown, knowing that I'll have relatively little control over my life for the next few months; anxious to finally be doing what I've waited so long to achieve. I am trying my hardest to shine, as the poem above illustrates; I am mostly fearless.

This is probably the terrifying moment I'm supposed to realize I'm really growing up ... that moment my life changes so completely, it will be unrecognizable. Am I terrified? Of course. But more afraid of the creepy-crawlers under the bed than the prospect of being dropped off in Africa. This is an adventure of a lifetime - this is going to change me forever. How many people get to experience that at 23? What better than to leap, spread my arms, and try my hardest to touch the sky? In the words of a fellow blogger:

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I want to be a tree."

Am I going to be a tree? Am I going to be a leaf on a tree? Am I going to be the sunshine, causing shadow and light between the leaves of a tree? Or will I be all of it at once? 

I guess now it's up to me.

xx

'May' Must Be 'Twi' for Goodbye

I found out recently that I'm leaving for Ghana on June 1st. It is the first country the Peace Corps ever landed in - it has a 40+ year mission legacy (no pressure) and I've been given the opportunity to work in the exact program I wanted (no pressure). I feel like the luckiest girl in America - to be given the opportunity to follow my dreams and put a tiny mark on the world. This experience is going to line up the rest of my life. I'm ecstatic ... and completely terrified of failing those expectations, despite having come so far.

To have people telling me that they're proud of me, that I inspire them in some minute way, is the most humbling experience of my life. It erases every mistake. My perspective has shifted ever so slightly in the right direction and, suddenly, the minutiae has completely disappeared. Why? Because I have people counting on me, people holding me responsible for my goals.

What a fantastic way to make yourself accountable for all of your dreams: to simply tell someone about them?

I am completely in-love with the idea of possibility. I feel so incredibly lucky to have been thrust in the direction of my aspirations. I'm finally beginning to do the things that define who I am, the kind of person I want to be. I couldn't be more grateful.

This has only made me realize I must make the most of my time. This way the people who matter don't doubt it and the one's who don't aren't revealed too late. What I'm most excited about, though, is the first month I've had off in over a year - and the memories I'll be able to stock away, in bulk. I have a feeling I'm going to need them.

xoxo

Metrosexuals Not Welcome

Brace yourselves, ladies.

There's a new revolution on the horizon and it has nothing to do with, well, anything, really ... (unless you go 'gooey' for machismo and a fashion sense like Frank Sinatra). What is this new movement, you ask? The 'Retro-sexual' Movement. Yep. RETROSEXUALITY.

Gone are the days of eyebrow waxing and monthly mani/pedi appointments for your well-groomed man-friend! The day of sissy-boys is officially over! There is a retro 'manly-man' revolution occuring right under our noses! The kind you would only find on an episode of MadMen.

As per a professor, who's begun 'Male Studies' classes on his campus, our society has been reprogramming its men to be less 'manly.' Speaking with a CNN correspondent yesterday, he frankly told her that drugs like Ridalin are "turning [boys] into girls."

As I sat there (casually wondering what Ridalin turns girls into), I was fairly certain that this man's idea of masculinity resembled something hairy and gorilla-like, frantically pounding it's chest whenever other hairy, gorilla-like creatures drew near ... you know, obnoxious. I have to admit, I was rather amused - I mean, it's not exactly the most original idea, but who am I to deny a revolution the kind of spotlight it deserves?! 

So, in the spirit of friendship (of the chest-beating capacity) and only slight jest, I've come up with a few 'retro-sexual' rules for the New-Age Manly-Man:

1.) 'Real' men are no longer allowed to own automatic vehicles.
      Retrosexuals drive their cars, the cars do not drive them.

2.) In the event of an altercation, the only term to be used is fisticuffs; also, 'real' mean do not start fights at any given time, they kindly invite enemies to another location (to avoid inevitable fainting spells in creatures of the female persuasion).
    

3.) If injury should occur, only slabs of meat are to be used against the skin.      
     Retrosexuals wear 'black-and-blue,' and pull it off flawlessly.

4.) Women are not permitted to speak, unless spoken to, in the presence of a 'real' man.
     Retrosexuals will not be emasculated by anyone with a vagina. Not even mother.

5.) 'Secretary' is not a real job. Secretaries are ladies 'real' mean hire to sleep with. When they're bored.  
     Retrosexuals play golf and have affairs with office workers, they do not 'work.'

6.) There is to be absolutely no 'going downtown.' Not even on special occasions. She, however, can 'go downtown' whenever she wants. Which is to say, when he wants.
     Retrosexuals do not serve you.

xx

Cloud Nine (and the Peace Corps!)

I'm sitting here, a heavy mix between cloud-nine excitement and nervous anticipation, waiting for my invitation letter from (DAH-DA-DA-DUN!) the Peace Corps. Yes, that's right! Yours truly was finally accepted!

Despite being infected with perma-grin for the last four days, I have now started stalking UPS. I'm like a bat-shit crazy girlfriend! I've spent the morning pacing back and forth, chewing my nails, and imagining all kinds of panic attack-inducing, letter-losing disasters. Every time I hear a UPS truck-like sound, I jump up and stare out the window - both hands (and an ear) pressed tightly to the glass ... because I'm certain it will help me look around corners. 

If I'm being honest, I've made about a dozen excuses to go outside (you know, to NOT check for a random UPS truck). Just for future reference, there is only so much trash you can take to the dumpster in one morning. Also, the mail will never be here before noon ... so, checking it at half-an-hour intervals from 9:30 am, on, will probably make you look like a crazy person.

Riding the high of my mini-victory on Wednesday - I am now a bundle of nerves. I find myself doubting the authenticity of my acceptance, despite having checked my application status on the P.C. website multiple times. Today is supposed to be a big day. Today I presumably learn exactly where and when I'm leaving. With the letter in my hand, I can start the excitement-turned-fear-turned-acceptance process. Today the reality sets in and I can officially go screaming down the neighborhood streets in mind-altering happiness!
This is, of course, assuming the letter shows up. I'm currently fighting the urge to call UPS and ask them when it will be here ...


For the time being, however, I am still suspended. Having finally gotten accepted, after a year-and-a-half, the impatience is kicking in. So, I will resume my stalking of UPS ... but, I promise, you will be updated as soon as I tackle that son -of-a-bitch and get my letter!
xx

Flirtation: A Girl's Best Friend

I love to flirt.
And I'm not just talking about the kind of flirting I'd apply to Gerard Butler. I'm talking about the Marilyn Monroe kind of flirtation, which roughly translates into: flirting with everyone. It's an art.

According to an article I read in Cosmo, I engage in the act of flirtation continuously throughout the day. Before reading it, however, I'd never considered my interactions 'flirtatious.' My definition was a very narrow one - limited only to sexual intention. This article really broke down what it meant to flirt, and it totally made sense! In the end, even flirting with myself (though completely self-gratifying) seemed like a reachable goal. Why wait for someone to flirt with you? Really it comes down to applying the skill to normal, every-day life because everyone benefits.

When it comes to Marilyn Monroe, everyone and their mother wants to be like her. She is the ultimate muse. But why? It isn't just her style, or the fact that she died before her time. It might have to do with her subtle sexuality or her acting, but only partially. What it's really about is her essence; her entrancing aura - the special *thing* that made the world hang on her every word.

I'm pretty sure that, even if I tried my hardest, a lifetime of flirtation wouldn't put on me on-par with Marilyn Monroe ... but it doesn't really hurt to try, does it? 

Giving my kitten a little extra lovin' won't only lower my blood pressure, it'll make him happy. Telling my best friend how much I appreciate her will make me feel just as good as she does. Winking at that super cute barrista will do just as much harm as giving my bum a little pat in my money-makin' jeans (which is to say, none). Not to mention, it's an excuse to practice a little sensuality every day ... and who doesn't love the idea of that?

So, take a hint from Marylin. You don't have to sleep with the president or pose in Playboy (unless you want to, of course). Simply take a minute out of your day to casually flirt with every person you meet and consider it a practice in etiquette:

Tell that fashionable chick you love her style ...
Compliment your boss on how well they handle pressure ...
Brush your hand across your significant other's back  ...
Take the time to appreciate your legs the next time you put on lotion ...

Because the world is so much more fun when you enjoy it; in fact, I'm pretty sure that's the key. Plus, who doesn't want someone falling in-love with them at any given moment? It certainly beats having low self-esteem!

xx