Uncle Kodjo, who's quickly rising in the ranks of Caitlin's Favorite Professors All Time (though no where close to overthrowing Sam Abrams, academic love of my life), gave a lecture on Traditional Medicine. Besides cracking up at his comments about urineotherapy ("I cannot drink my own urine") and the resurrection of the Ghanaian erectile dysfunction metaphor ("You have a gun but it can't shoot or there's no bullet in it"), we discussed "dis-ease" and bad juju.
Based on this lecture, I decided I've definitely offended some god and got some bad juju following me around.
Early Thursday morning I woke up to a mosquito buzzing in my ear. That buzzing is irritating anywhere in the world, but when it's accompanied by the threat of Malaria, it starts looking like a shoot-out from the old west. Except there are no guns, it was 4AM instead of high noon and all I have to do is clap and that bloodsucker is dead. Well, I was distracted by the mosquito when I sat up and noticed the sliding patio door in my bedroom was wide open. I reached for my cellphone on my desk, which was gone. Panic had not set in at this point, so instead of screaming (probably would have been smarter), I woke my roommate Alana up, saying someone was/had been in our room. Not only was my phone gone, but her bag and cellphone were too. We hit the panic button (we have one in our bedroom. Should have been a dead giveaway), a truck of giant security guards hops out and proceeds to walk around our house the rest of the morning, speculating that the hand and footprints on the side of our house and balcony meant that the thief came in through the kitchen. Awesome detective work, Nancy Drew could definitely learn a thing or two from these Ghanaian sleuths.
WTF!!!! Once is bad enough, but twice is a major security issue. Beyond the creeper fact that someone was like, hovering over my roommate and I while we slept, who knows what could have happened if we'd woken up. In my obruni ignorance, it took me awhile to realize how freaky this whole thing actual has been. Our entire house was deserted and my 3 housemates and I were moved to the isolation rooms that were reserved for a swine flu outbreak. I'm to the point where I'd gladly take H1N1 over breaking and entering. Criminal activity in my
bedroom AND I lose my beloved House 2 roomies, Brenda and Krissy. We were all so close, we even shared our bread (There's something magical in Ghanaian baked goods. They're beyond delicious, so sharing is quite the act of love). I love the rest of my C-squared obruni schoolmates and though I get to live with the lovely Holley who's also mastered the art of pure laziness, but House 2 will always have a special place in my heart.
After viewing the surveillance tape that showed a man in shorts creeping across our courtyard (definitely not a professional. What skilled veteran criminal would wear shorts?), security was beefed up and we now have not one but THREE security guards chilling at Church Crescent, 24/7. Now, I love our solo skinny little guard Sam, but these new guards take security to a new level. They are HUGE, at least 7 feet tall (exaggeration) and ; they're in plainclothes during the day (I assume to "blend in" with all the white American kids I live with), and at night they sit on our porches with their black sticks, ready to beat any intruder within an inch of life. Nothing like a giant black bodyguard to make you feel safe... though if Kevin Costner worked for G4 Security, I'd take him too.
Since being a House 2 refugee is exhausting, I've been spending my seemingly infinite amount of free time doing what I'm best at; being lazy. The best way to fully understand my laziness: I used to drive my mom crazy leaving my junk all over the house. A big culprit were socks and shoes. I still leave them everywhere; they come of my feet, I forget where I took them off and put on another pair. repeat several times. Once my mom asked me to pick up my socks and put them in the laundry upstairs. Instead of getting up and taking them upstairs, I just put them on. It was easier and they were no longer cluttering up space. So I'm very lazy and as a refugee have spent most of the week end doing nothing. My wild accomplishments were pausing the Harry Potter movie marathon to venture to the Accra Mall for snacks and napping poolside for 4 hours. While most of you are probably shaking your heads and thinking how utterly pathetic I am that I traveled all the way around the world to AFRICA to be lazy, I say SHUT UP! and refer you to my previous post about walking above the jungle. I'm in Africa; I'm not constantly going on safaris to find an elephants or being chased by lions. I need downtime to do boring things. Every time I go out, I'm reminded how awkwardly I stick out being super white when people take pictures of me like I'm a polar bear at the zoo or when I'm laughed at because I smile and nod when I'm not able understand Ghanian's speaking English. So I need to be lazy on weekends when I'm not hunting for monkeys or swinging around the jungle.
Something that many people in my program have commented on is how well we all get along. It's actually incredible that taking 30 some NYUers and dropping them in Africa hasn't resulted in "Real World: Accra"-esque shenanigans. Well, we've had our share of shenanigans (House 4 jam session anyone?), but we ALL GET ALONG with no problems anywhere on the horizon. After 3 years in a sorority, it really reminds me what life can be like without institutionally created drama. Last night, all of us that weren't on homestay made dinner together. SO freaking adorable. We collectively flexed our culinary muscle and had the most delicious dinner I've had yet. We had pasta alla norma, stir-fry, french fries, breadsticks, deeeelicious french toast (again, Ghanaian baked goods are amazing. I must make a note to bring back some delicious bread) and apple pie. Who would have thought maple syrup mixes so well with pasta?? Even better than the food was all of us together having one of the best nights I've had yet. We lurve each other, I can't wait for more meals with all these lovely people.
To all my KpsiD loves back in New York: CONGRATULATIONS!!! I'm hearing 11, 12 newbie pledges?? Keep your heads high; I know how exhausting, discouraging and totally mindfucking recruitment can be (oh, how some things never change). Now you can all relax and focus on whipping those Phi-sicles into awesome sisters (let me know the nickname; this one's not coming as easily as Rho-boats and Upsi-Daisies). AND MAKE SURE THEY EMAIL ME!!! I'm an ex-president (kickin' it with Bill and Dubya in the ex-prez club), the only sister abroad AND holding down highest scroll with Rachums.
One of these days I'll manage to get a post in here not concerning theft or injury...
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