So in addition to having no internet, our house decided today that electricity and running water weren't necessities either today. I suppose I can put up with no running water for a day, but I better have light by this evening so giant African bugs don't sneak up on me in the darkness of night.
It's been almost a month since I first stepped on the African continent, and I'm doing surprisingly well. I'm not sick with any tropical disease, I have clean drinking water readily available and I don't particularly miss the US. Sure, there are certain comforts (electricity, peanut butter M&Ms, pizza at 4am) that I miss, but I never had my usual "Holy shit I'm in a new foreign place, I'm freaking out and miserable". I miss a few people, and talking to my parents definitely has a new importance in my life (assuring them I'm not dead at least once a week), but otherwise I'm gonna say it; I'm not homesick. The one thing I was petrified about coming here never happened. I love it.
Breaking news: I now am the proud borrower of an ancient Ibook G4. This thing looks like someone took it out back and beat it with a stick, and the A key doesn't exist. But it's a computer! The missing key should make for some interesting typos. On the upside, my new Itunes is packed with Hiplife and Hilife which I fully plan on copying and bringing back to New York with me.
On an entirely separate note, my classes here are awesome. For all you suckers back in New York that started classes yesterday, I'd like to gloat about the fact that not only have I already had 3 of 4 classs this week, but I've only spent a total of 1 hour in a classroom. Field trips are just as much fun when you're 21 as they were when you're 8.
Global Connections with Uncle Nat was pretty sweet. I really like calling all my professors "aunty" and "uncle". It gives class such a comfortable feeling. Could prove to be potentially awkward upon my return if this becomes an automatic impulse ("Uncle JSex, can I get a hug?"= creepier than the hug was to begin with).
Anyway, Uncle Nat took us around Old Accra and to see the old slave road route, forts and colonist's homes. Interestingly, historical sites here aren't treated any differently than the house next door. Old slave forts and slave owner's homes are used as permanent family residences, with chickens and children running around outside and clotheslines in the courtyard. Not like in the US where anything that is remotely historic is blocked off, preserved and turned into a museum. The occupants know the history and stories of their home, some are even related to the historic first owners. Imagine Abraham Lincoln's descendants living in his log cabin, and thats every old slave prison or fort in Accra. I'm not sure how I feel about this. On one hand, the buildings are deteriorating and eventually could be condemned and demolished. On the other, it's so freaking cool how people still live in the homes. Obviously the homes are not organized the same way they were historically; it'd be a bit disturbing to tour one of these homes and see people sleeping in the old slave holding cells, but the residents do know the historical importance of where they live, and for only a few Ghana cedi welcome people into their homes.
Documenting the African City allows me to run around the city with a video camera, because I didn't stick out enough before, being the whitest white girl around here since the Danish colonized back in the day and us whiteys had a shelf life of 3 months before we keeled over from Malaria (This fact courtesy of Uncle Kodjo, Health and Society professor extraordinaire). We got to venture out into Jamestown, one of the oldest parts of Accra that has over time become a slum. No running water, no paved roads and open gutters. Tin roof shacks and more kids and chicken's running around together. Jamestown is also home to almost 100 boxing training facilities. Some of the world's greatest champions have come from Jamestown. I of course was informed of all this, so I can't name names, but Time Out Accra seems to be a credible source (I kid you not, this magazine does exist). As camerawoman, my group filmed and interviewed boxers and their trainers, then wandered around Jamestown for other candid shots. The problem with this plan became apparent as soon as I turned on the camera. Kids gravitated to the camera like magnets on a refrigerator hoping to be filmed, picking up their younger siblings to show them off and dancing crazy. Not the candid shots I was hoping for, but still cute. Then their mother's followed, cursing at me in what I presume was Twi for filming without permission, then demanding money. One woman tried to get me to film her goat named Obama, while I stared blankly at her trying to understand if she really named her goat Obama. I was quickly saved by our TA Issac, who was chaperoning/playing bodyguard. Needless to say, we didn't get all the shots needed, so look forward to more stories about my ignorant obruni adventures in Jamestown
On the subject of Obama, they LOVE him over here, if you couldn't tell from the goat. He is everywhere; the welcome banners from his visit in July are still up all over town, and after finding out I'm American there's often an exclamation of "Obama!" to which I just smile and nod. I'm working on getting some Obama fabric, which yes exists here and I have actually seen someone wearing a dress with his face on it. Fabulous.
Back to classes. As previously mentioned, my Health and Society professor, Uncle Kodjo is a character. First class, he's wearing all black and explains to us he just came from a funeral, the gives a lecture on the history of idigenous medicine in the world. Last week, he informs us that he has malaria. The class emits a collective gasp, to which he laughs and explains he gets it once a year, but we should all keep taking our prophylactic meds. The man is awesome.
In conclusion, my classes rock. My internship starts next week, which will only add to the fun and ignorant obruni moments that make life in Ghana so special.
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