Showing posts with label university. Show all posts
Showing posts with label university. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

India (Day 1 part 4)

On our way back to the bus, we got to check out the fishing vendors.  This guy had tons of enormous fish and was really excited to show us the different kinds.  He showed us a giant pink fish with a nasty looking tongue which was his favorite to eat.  Snapper I think?

The next one he held up looked like a mini great white.  Turns out, he said it was a baby great white shark!  I was horrified and enthusiastically interested at the same time.  Sharks, especially baby sharks, especially baby great white sharks are something I think should be protected rather than eaten.  But here was this guy being so nice and proud of his catch.  It was a moral confliciton.  (yes, I made that word up.)  In true bio nerd fashion, I asked if I could hold the baby shark and check it out.  It felt really different than I expected.  It looked smooth and rubbery like a dolphin, but it was actually more rough like sandpaper.  People started snapping pictures as I was inspecting it, and I think my face accurately conveys my combination of interest and discomfort.   Any bio people know if this really is a baby great white?  




I got back to the ship, just in time to change and head back out to a welcome party with local university students.  The night kind of turned out to be a bust though.  We got rained out and not many Indian students were there.  Still, the food was excellent and I had fun trying to wheel my chair over uneven grass.  (That is not sarcasm by the way.  I do enjoy a good off-roading challenge.)  And Hannah and I got some henna tattoos.  I was really excited as I saw the beautiful designs other people were getting.  Hannah and I were the last ones to get the tattoo and I guess the artist were over it by that point because it turned out like this:


It looks like I either cut my hand or had an accident with some Hershey's syrup.  haha  We had fun with it though.  Maybe I'll find some other henna artist to fix the design before I leave.  Or, I can tell people I had an epic silver nitrate accident until it fades a way.  It's a win win really.  :0P


I hung out with Hannah and Andrea for a bit back at the ship and then with the roomie and friends until way too late.  It was fun though!  

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Ghana Day 1-2

  Ok so I was on the bus right?  Before I continue I'm going to rewind a bit.   I forgot a whole few hours of watching a music performance and hanging out with Ghanaian students and professors before I even left the ship.  I had planned to sleep in, but that went about as well as it ever does on the ship.  I was up at 7:30 am when an announcement was made about something.  The good news is that I had time to go to a presentation and musical performance that was going on in the Union to help us get ready for Ghana.  A diplomat (and SAS alum!) spoke about his experiences living in Ghana and his career path.  Then, the musician who has sailed with us from Brazil to Ghana (who is from Ghana) sang some songs with guitar accompaniment.  He sang some Bob Marley which was fantastic and a few of his own composition.  He is a fantastic artist so I am glad that I did not miss it!


  I met up with my field program group for lunch.  (Some of the people had met  before to greet the Ghanaian students and professors while I was finishing up getting ready.)  It was fantastic talking with them over a relatively decent meal (in boat food terms).  I mainly talked to a guy who is also in his last quarter of school about how his university system works.  I was amazed that it is common to take 5 to 8 classes at once per term at school here!  I feel overwhelmed with four!  I was also surprised to learn that people were all different ages in his classes.  He was 26 and had worked three years teaching before he started college.  In Ghana, people can teach up through elementary school before they need an education degree.  After teaching the younger kids, he decided to go back to school and eventually work in high school or college level teaching.  


  Many of the people who we met at lunch accompanies us onto the bus that would take us to Winneba.  (Yay, now I'm back to where I left off before.)  After about three and a half hours, I was very glad to get to the town of our destination.  Before going to the hotel we had the honor of being welcomed to the town by the council members.  It is common that any visitor stops by the local government office to be welcomed, and then again at the end of the stay to ask permission to leave.  The ritual involved prayer from at least two denominations and an offering of locally made alcohol to the gods.  Once we had the god's attention, the man leading the ceremony also poured a mixture of flour and water over the same area to make sure those tipsy gods didn't get angry at us.  





I was very happy to get to the hotel and lay down after all the driving and standing/sitting/wheeling in the heat.  The room was a bit rough but clean and most importantly, it had an air conditioner!  I got to lay down for a couple of hours before dinner and the nighttime festivities.  


   After dinner, we boarded the bus to visit the local university.  I was more grumpy and hot than excited about this, but I a so glad that I went!  We were greeted by a local singing, drumming, and dancing group who had amazing voices!  I couldn't believe that such richness of sound could come from just voices and drums!  Then the students put on a fantastic dance/drum/singing performance of their own.  The songs were very elaborate and were all very long.  I was amazed that the students could not only remember all the words and steps, but also that they had such good acting talent to go with the story they were telling by the dance.  In a grand finale, some people from our group were taken up to try out African dancing.  Of course, I was one of them.  I was fully expecting to pass out since the dance they showed us was very difficult, but good ol' adrenaline kicked in.  It was really fun to let go of whatever reservations I had and dance in a completely new way.  In addition to the performances, we had a two-way Q&A session with some of the professors and the dean.  We learned all about their education program and told them all about Semester at Sea.  It was nice to have this two way conversation going.  So often when traveling, it is more one way, with the locals showing you something.  (That something is usually more of what they know tourist like, than anything else.  SAme in California, and everywhere.  We know where the money comes from and it's a fun experience, not an authentic one.  haha)  After we got back to the hotel, the rest of the night was fairly nondescript.  I watched an episode of Doctor Who I was delighted to find on my ipod and then went to sleep.  (Ok not so much with the sleeping part.  There was a radio playing at fluctuating volume all night, and the hotel workers started yelling and laughing at around 5:30.  But who needs more than 2 hours of sleep right?


   On to Day 2!  Breakfast was also yummy, although with slightly more hazards than dinner posed.  The large round rolls in the bottom of the picture contained a surprise when one of my friends bit into it.  It was filled with tiny bugs!  So glad I opted for the flat bread instead!  Our first stop of the day was to the center of the fishing part of the village.  This is where a lot of those er..unique smells I mentioned earlier came from.  As soon as the bus pulled up, people, especially kids started gathering around to see what was going on.  Very few Obrunis (non Africans) come to the village, so we were somewhat of a spectacle.  We walked down the street passed small shops and houses to get to where we would be talking with the men who fished.  




First, we got to spend some valuable time with the people from the town.  I didn't have to worry about how to start the conversation because a lovely lady named Victoria came right up to me, shook my hand and we started talking in a few words of English and many hand gestures.  She asked me about the village I was from and I thought it was funny to think of ginormous San Jose as a village.  By her breaking the ice for the two groups, I was able to talk/gesture with many of the women and a few of the kids.  

(Victoria is on the far left.  This picture was carefully orchestrated by her and taken by one of the SASers she picked out as photographer.  She was a really cool lady.)



The kids were very fascinated by us although some were shy at first.  They loved looking at my camera and seeing themselves on the screen after I took their picture.  I'm pretty sure that town has some future supermodels with some of the poses I was getting!  Who would have thought cameras would be such a good ice-breaker!?!











   The talk with the fisherman was also more of a two-sided Q&A than a presentation.  I learned a lot about their daily work and what the market is like for fish.  They thought it was funny that some Americans (aka me, the only fisher in the group) would fish with a pole for fun.  It was something they had heard about, but didn't happen all that often.  They were extra surprised that I was a girl and fished!  We had a good laugh at that.   Also during the talk, I spotted a dried out fishy near the net.  I definitely didn't pick it up and tape it into my journal, because that would be disgusting.  Oh wait, that is exactly what I did.  (Hey one of the professor preserved a dead bat someone found on the ship.  There are more of my kind!)  



  I dragged my feet as we were leaving the town.  I was having so much fun now that the kids had warmed up to us and were competing over the best pose for a picture.  There was a while when I was the only one on the street which was pretty cool.  I was using my wheelchair on and off during the whole stop and was really surprised that no one in the town stared at all!  Not one person!  It felt nice for it to just be accepted that I was wheeling instead of walking.  I've never been anywhere including out to dinner at home without at least a few people gawking at me and my chair.  Eventually I did make it back on the bus and we headed to our next stop.
   I was very excited for this stop and it live up to my expectations.  Just a short bus ride away, the bus let us off to go explore the town's market.  This was very much a local market with no inclination to cater to tourist.  So it was perfect!  I wish I had either more eyes, or a head that could rotate 360 degrees.  There was so much to look at.  Clothes, fermenting or dried fish, spices, cloth, toys, cookware...pretty much anything you would need.  I ended up borrowing a couple of citi (don't know about the spelling but it's $1 = 1.6 citi) since our tour guide had yet to give me any money after I gave her some of my U.S. dollars to exchange.  (She actually ripped me off big time with a horrible exchange rate and then not giving me about $3 worth because she said she didn't have exact change and then blew me off later.  It wasn't a lot of money obviously, but I did get a little irritated.  Oh well.)  and buying a handmade clay pot.  It's traditionally used to hold medicine so that is my new residence of my meddies on the ship.  




  After a bit of shopping, we met with the Market Queen.  She oversees the market and helps settle any disputes that come up.  This was also a two way Q & A session and I was singled out as the American authority on produce for some reason.  haha  I told her (through a translator) about how I go to farmer's markets that are open once a week and how I go to the grocery store for most of my food.  (She was horrified that you could only get really fresh things one day a week.)  Out of the blue during all of this she gets very serious and turns to me and asks if she could go visit America.  I was a little confused and said "Of course."  
  "So just walking down the street, I would be safe?" she asked through our translator.
   "Umm yeah, as long as it wasn't like the bad part of a city at night."  I was kind of confused with where this was going.  (Looking back, I was being a bit thick.)
   "But my skin...." she said and I finally understood.  She said that she knew of people who had gone to the U.S. and were treated horribly and even with violence because of their darker skin.  There were many assurances from us that things are better now and that there are tons of other people with darker skin in the U.S.  Even if the odd individual was a dillhole, it wasn't something that was generally permissible in society.   She seemed very glad at this news and told us that many of the people in the market had been scared when we showed up because of stories they had heard about Americans and the British.  I was pretty much horrified.  It's so easy to think that things like racism don't have anything to do with me.  But when I was at that market, people were afraid of me and it became much more personal.  That experience showed me that I can't just be un- racist and wipe my hands with it.  As long as there are still people out there who would think negatively about someone because of how much melanin they have in their skin, it is everyone's job to fight it.  (and by everyone I mean including me and by fight I mean with words.)  


   We ended the conversation on a lighter note as we discussed what members of the household shop at the market (women) and how often they shop (almost every day.)  After much thank you's exchanged from both groups, we headed to our final destination before heading back to the ship.  Just down the street, we went to a different campus for the same university we went to the night before.  This campus was centered around acting, singing, dancing, and music so I felt right at home!  Just like at my home university, there were signs up about upcoming plays and sandwich boards advertising various clubs.  I have to admit that my positive mindset was loosing it's battle at this point.  I had been hot pretty much consecutively for the past twenty-four hours, I was hungry, and my midodrine was wearing, off so I was getting very dizzy.  I just wanted to get back on the boat, shower, and sleep.   Since we were on Africa time where "now" means "sometime" we were waiting in a very stuffy room for a performance by the dancers to start.  


   Finally, one of the professors who we had come to know got up to introduce the students who would be performing.  There would be drumming, some singing, and the highlight would be the dancing.  He said that at the end, we would be invited to join in.  With that I popped another midodrine and enjoyed the show.  Even in my grumpy state, the energy of the drummers and dancers had me smiling, clapping, and generally enjoying the experience.  I perked up a bit when they gave us a snack from the market and I felt the welcome head tingling that meant the midodrine was kicking in.  



   Too soon, the final song was playing.  In the middle of it, one of the dancers came out to where we were sitting, and I knew right away that I was going up on stage.  Sure enough, the dancer went right to me and led me up on stage to start with the dancing.  Contrary to how I usually am, I didn't cling to my seat and beg to be left in the audience.  Even more contrary to my usual self, I completely let go of all the thoughts of how stupid I looked and thoroughly enjoyed myself shaking my bum in front of tons of people.  Soon, there were lots of other students up there with me and we were hilariously trying to gyrate in the correct way.  The dancing was extremely strenuous because the whole body is involved.  The idea is to constantly be jumping while moving your arms and shoulder blades in opposite directions.   At the end of the song, I thanked the dancers and went back to my seat with a heart rate that probably topped my previous record.  I think it took me a good ten minutes to start breathing normally again, but it was worth it!

  As the performance and subsequent wrap up talk were winding down, I had one of those life-changing epiphany moments.  I was staring off into space, trying to control my breathing/gasping when a thought projected into my brain, "I am SO glad that I got sick."  I was so surprised at this genuine realization that I actually held my breath for a few counts.  Before this, I would think things like "I still would rather have never gotten sick, but at least being sick allowed me to do X"  or "No matter what comes in my future, nothing is going to be able to give me back the four years this illness took of my life.  So I will never be ok with what I was dealt."  And there I was completely happy about the fact that I had gotten sick with no stipulations put on that happiness.   I started to probe my thoughts for why exactly I suddenly felt this way.  I think it was beyond anything like being sick allowed me to get the scholarships that allowed me to go on SAS.  It was even beyond that being sick had given me certain advantages like handling stress and discomfort well or appreciating the little things.  It wasn't that being sick got me any concrete advantage.  It was that some fundamental part of me changed in a way that will make me able to enjoy life more.  And this change is directly due to what I have been through.  It's hard to put my finger on exactly what, but it's something like being comfortable in my own skin, comfortable in who I am and what I can do.  There is apparently something to say about testing your limits and getting to know them intimately.  It is still true that I  had a crummy four years of being really sick, but now it has become a part of me.  It's not this separate thing that ruined my life and made every experience categorized by the nostalgic "before sick" and the bitter "after sick."  Part of the reason why I'm able to feel this way is because I have a feeling that from now on my life will be divided into "before SAS" and "after SAS" with the "after" being the better times.  :0)  


   Just like this post, that epiphany was the peak experience of the day.  The long bus ride  back was broken up by going to a grocery store to get some Ghanaian chocolate (amazing btw) and other necessities like cookies and roasted chicken flavored chips.  The grocery store looked pretty much like the ones in France which was interesting.  
   When I finally set eyes on the MV Explorer I couldn't have been more thankful to be "home."  I embraced the air conditioning and the shower and clean clothes that it held in side.  I went to bed at an embarrassingly early hour and rested up for the next day.



P.S.  I forgot to mention that we spent a few minutes at a beach and I found an awesome octopus spine!  I think it's from the collagen that gives their head shape.


  

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

And now for something completely different…(Ghana First Impressions)

Nothing in my life experiences leading up to today have prepared me for Ghana.  I guess I like to file away what I see and experience into pre-established categories.  I didn't even realize this until I came here and realized I had so little context to process what I am experiencing.  This makes it difficult to write about because I find myself still thinking in filters that don't apply.  Bear with me as I do my best.

My introduction to Ghana was from the vantage point of a bus window as we traveled the three hours to Winneba, a small fishing town.  I was excited to get going since there was not much to see other than shipping crates where we are docked.  I eagerly boarded the bus, ready to start the adventure and escape the heat only to find myself in a very UNair-conditioned bus.  Uh-oh.  As people started getting on after me, the look of terror was on their faces as well.  It's kind of funny, now that I think back on it, how horrified we all were that the bus didn't have air conditioning.  "Well this sure isn't Brazil," a fellow passenger commented referring to the luxury air conditioned busses we were carted around in there.  After a few minutes of adjusting to the heat, I actually started to enjoy the experience.  It somehow made things more real now that I wasn't using luxury transpiration.  

I made friends with one of the dependent children and a man from the university at Winneba right away by offering some lifesaver mints.  In turn, our host taught us my first lesson in Ghana: how to litter properly.  I collected the wrapper from the kid's life saver and the man was almost horrified when I started to shove it in my backpack for later disposal.  "No no no," he said, "what are you doing?  No.  It's like this."  With that he let his own candy wrapper fall to the bus floor.  I still tried to shove the trash in my pack, but he insisted that was not proper.  So, I threw it on the ground!  (Queue the Lonely Island Song).  I thought it was very funny that to him, saving the trash to throw away in a trash can later was just as appalling as it would be for me to see someone blatantly throw trash on the street.  But we be in Ghana now, so I shall do as the Ghanaians do!   It's really interesting that in a different setting, new things can seem commonplace.  It does no good to think like, "well at home, we do it this way..."  All those comparisons get tiring and distract me from jumping into how things are done here.  Yes, all this from a small piece of trash.

Anyway, I found that looking out the bus window on our three hour trip was a great way to get oriented.  My first views of Ghana once we left the port were very overwhelming so I am glad that I had the time to adjust.  The evidence of poverty was very evident.  There were nice houses and quaint gated communities of course, but the majority of what I saw were small shelters made from bits of whatever was handy including metal scraps, clay, concrete blocks, tarp-like fabric, and scarp wood.  I would find myself smiling pleasantly at the surroundings thinking how exciting this all was until I would jolt back to the realization that people lived in those places.  They weren't just part of the set for my grand adventure.  At this I didn't know what to feel.  I wanted to feel sad, but who was I to judge a rundown house as sadness?  I had no idea what happened behind those handmade clay walls.  There are all sorts of wealth in the world, and only some of those have to do with houses or money.  If I felt sad, would that be demeaning to the people who lived there?  Maybe.  So then should I feel only detached neutrality?  This didn't feel right either.  I have warring voices in my head that yell, "this is horrible!  People should not have to live like this," and "Who am I to judge.  This is a different place, and different things are acceptable."  I'm finding more and more on this trip I just don't know enough to formulate an opinion.  I'm trying to decide if that means it is my responsibility to not form one at all, or if it is ok to form an opinion as long as I remain open minded to learn more.  




The rest of the components of the places we drove through added to the dilapidated view.  Wind brought dust from the Sahara which made the sky look like Los Angeles on a bad smog day.  Yellowish-grey and gloomy.  The ground was made up of red dirt (not unlike California gold country) that also billowed up in dust clouds at any disturbance.   In port, the thick air smelled very industrial due to all of the machinery and storage containers that lined the shore.  But further inland, the air was smokey with countless brushfires that dotted the scenery.  I never quite figured out if these were controlled burns or not, but seeing fire alongside the road or smoke clouds in the distance was not uncommon.  Due to the little care people seemed to give the fires, I'm assuming at least most were planned occurrences.   As you can imagine from the trash disposing policy, there was litter along the roads and in the towns.  Some of it would collect in the huge gutters that lined the streets along with the fetid water and human waste that was already brewing.


And it smells just about how you would expect.  I got used to it quickly though. 

Now at this point, one may wonder how I could say that Ghana is a beautiful country.  The landscape is dusty and barren, the towns are dirty and rundown, BUT the people are what makes Ghana beautiful.  It is not just in how they dress, which does need mentioning.  Most Ghanaians do not just roll out of bed.  Most people I saw or met was dressed very nicely in button up shirts on the men and tasteful blouses on the women.  Almost everyone wore long pants.  Many of the people were wearing things that could be found at any U.S. mall, but there were also some people in more traditional dress with brightly colored, flowing shirts, robes, and dresses.  The school kids were dressed especially beautifully.  The uniforms are almost all brightly colored yellows or blues.  The kids not yet in school were often dressed a bit more raggedy, but that is perhaps because everywhere in the world toddlers are a stained shirt and torn pants waiting to happen.  




As I said already, the attire was just a small part of how the people I saw and met made Ghana a beautiful place.  Everyone was just simply pleasant.  (There I go, making blanket statements again.  sigh.  I'm working on it.)   The curiosity of our interactions went both ways.   There would be shy eye contact as we felt each other out.  Then perhaps a handshake (which are very elaborate and awesome by the way) and asking name, age, and what town the other is from.  In almost every case we would be laughing about something in no time whether it be a failed attempt to communicate or how kids reacted when they saw a picture of themselves.  At every step of the trip, the SASers and the people we met had fantastic exchanges.  It was like a rapid fire Q&A that went in two directions at once.  I learned all about the colleges, fishing life, and markets and shared about my own school, grocery stores, and farmers markets.  I feel like so often when I travel, it is locals putting on an extended performance for us tourists.  Here, I feel like we really are having a cultural exchange.  There is so much learning and sharing with such an open dialogue.  I love it!  

Oh my, all this writing, and I haven't even gotten to the end of the bus ride!  Not to mention I am going on 2.5 hours of sleep so my thoughts are getting more and more fuzzy.  I think I'll wrap this up here and continue in another post later.  Stay tuned...