Not dead, just resting ;)

It has been a while, yes, so I am doing a quick catch-up before jumping into the new school year. Here goes.

I went to Rome for Christmas, and it was wonderful to have both of my parents all to myself for over a week. I think that was a first. Walking through the ruins of so many centuries of civilization and spirituality and creativity in one place took my breath away. There was this little cafe we stopped at on Christmas Eve, and on the way there we walked out from this narrow little (twisty-turny) alley into a small plaza. There were tall apartment buildings all around, like your standard European city, and little smartcars zooming and honking, but in the middle of all of this modern hustle and bustle was a fenced-off enclosure. The grass was so green in it, and there were many many cats all sitting around, and out of the grass, like they had grown there a thousand years ago, were the ruins of someplace that felt as sacred as St. Peter's Basilica. Somehow it didnt feel like a contradiction at all to have that kind of peace in the middle of chaos. All of Rome was like that: peace and beauty in the middle of teeming life. It was a refreshing change from Ghana in some ways, and in others it made me miss this place. I was really taken aback by paying four euros for a latte the first time, and telling tales of Ghana made me miss the people and places I talked about. But the food was AMAZING. Ah, salad...

My journey back to Ghana from Rome was the usual 48 hours of public transportation, lack of sleep, and general discombobulation that seems to follow me every time I leave Europe. I had a whole day to myself after Mom and Dad left, and I spent a lot of it sitting in Piazza Popolo watching this Pakistani guy put on makeup and costume and set up standing as Lady Liberty. I went to mass, wandered in the park, and wrote in my journal. Then in the evening I made my way to the airport and camped out in the international terminal for the night. I listened to the new cd's that Tesla and Dad burned for me, did a lot of staring around, had a good conversation with this random french guy at four am, and finally gave up on sleeping. I brushed my teeth and went looking for my flight at about 9 am, poking into all the international terminals (not thinking that my flight was going to Milan, which is of course a DOMESTIC flight). I found it and it left pretty much on time, which was good, because my connecting flight to Lagos and Accra had only about an hour layover. At Milan I headed to the gate, only to find that a) it was burried in the basement, and b) the flight was delayed indefinitly. Also, there were none of the usual helpful people behind the counter waiting to assist. Only me, another obruni woman and her son, a really nice Ghanaian woman and her little baby boy, a whole bunch of Muslims (coming back from Hajj I think) who gathered in the back corner every hour, faced the right direction, laid out their mats (men in front in two rows, women quiet in the back) and said prayers, and a ton of Nigerians and Ghanaians. Every forty minutes or so, someone would ask their neighbor when the flight was going to leave, and no one knew. It was scheduled to depart at about 3pm, and we finally started boarding at a little after 7. By that time, I had become fast friends with the Ghanaian woman whith the baby, so I helped her fold her stroller. The typical qeue thing happened, where everyone got up in a lump and stood in no sort of order at the gate for forty minutes before anything happened, and finally we were walking across the (freezing cold) tarmac to the plane, parked far far away. By this time I was going on less than two hours of sleep, and I hadn't eaten since the snack biscuts on the plane to Milan about six years before. And the flight was four hours behind schedule. We all got loaded and settled, and lucky me got to sit near ALL the children, who had been put in the same few rows so that their irritation and exhaustion could feed off itself, I guess. Then one of the passengers couldnt be located, and of course he had checked bags, but the airline is unable to fly a bag without a passenger, so we had to wait for another hour and a half while they went through EVERY bag in the hold to find his stuff. When we finally did take off I feel asleep somewhere over the Sahara desert and awoke in Nigeria. Most of the plane got off, and a few new passengers were added for our short hop to Accra. It was new years day.

Landing in Accra felt like coming home, even though it was four am. It was humid, and Ghanaian accents everywhere welcomed me. I got my bags and tried to get a taxi, but of course they charged me about four times as much as they should have...I tried to bargain the first guy down and he just flipped his hand at me and drove away. When I got back to good old Volta Hall (tired beyond imagining, frustrated by the taxi situation, and ready to sleep FOREVER), the porters couldnt find my key. I had to sleep in the room of one of my obruni sisters because Uncle Ben, the head porter, had held my key for me while I was out of the country. When I finally did get to a bed I passed out for almost 20 hours. It was heaven to be home.

The Ghana I came back to in January was not the Ghana I had left in December, though. For one thing, almost all the students were gone for the holiday. And the Hamattan winds, blowing hot and dry off the desert every day, made everything dusty and hazy. I spent two and a half weeks in January going on day trips to Aburi and local waterfalls, reading many books, getting my grades (all good, by the way! despite the fact that the final exam is 100% of the grade), and generally trying to adapt to a different pace of life than I was expecting. After I stopped trying to make my world something it wasnt, and focused on just letting it be, I started to really enjoy myself in a very slow, calm, relaxing way. I have never in my life had a whole month with literally NOTHING to do. I didnt have to feed any animals or people except myself (because my cat had not returned), I did not have anything at all that I absolutly had to do, I had nowhere to be and no demands on my time except ones I chose. It was freeing in a way, but if I had to live like that for any longer than a month I would probably go insane.

On the 20th of January, the African Cup of Nations came to Ghana. Which was a HUGE adventure! I am not really a sports person back home, but for some reason football in Africa is the exception to that rule, like so much in Africa is an exception to rules. I watched matches at the hall and at Tyme Out, a littel beer and rice place on campus. Fans here take it to a whole new level of obsession, and their energy was contagious. I got really into watching matches, and I even had a favorite team (aside from Ghana, of course): Egypt. By the time that quarter-finals and Semi-finals rolled around both teams were doing really well, and Egypt actually won the final cup (for the sixth year). It was wonderful.

On the 31st, I turned 23 and the new obrunis from California arrived. I got a surprise cake and a whole bunch of new friends, and it just proved that every birthday I have ends up being the best birthday I've had. It was wonderful (although the thought that I was in middle school TEN YEARS ago made me feel a little weird).

Talking to the new kids about their experiences and observations really put me back in the mindset of Ghana-as-exotic-place, and reminded me of all the things I was thinking and feeling. It is interesting to be shown a mirror of my former mindset, actually.

Personal life notwithstanding, I am having a wonderful time right now, and with the return of Ghanaian students and the start of school, I have much to look forward to. So, here's to looking forward!