Friday, November 18, 2011
Update: Books
After re-editing to smooth out the adjustment in premise, I'm back down to two pages. Now I know where it's going, though! I feel the characters shaping themselves and getting ready to take over.
Books
A month ago today (I know this because I returned my first set of books yesterday), I went to the Fairfield Public Library to get a library card. I already had a Bridgeport Public Library card from the branch five minutes down the street; it was an easy matter for the friendly woman at the circulation desk to look up my account and grant me borrowing privileges on the same card. She said the magic words - "You can take out as many books as you'd like" (!) - and I was off. Since my days are filled with service at and through the University, I limited myself to nine books and made it through part to all of four of them (I ended up renewing two).
Two of the books were young adult dystopias. After I read the first, I started the second and almost immediately thought, "Wow, this story line seems very familiar." Though I trust that the two authors eventually headed in different directions (I admit that I never made it through the second one to find out, though I do plan, in a far cry from good bookwormishness, to look up a plot summary online), both books started out with the same overarching plot points. When I described the similarities to my dad and offered that I could probably write that, he replied that I really probably could. (To his credit, he has not read either of the books in question.) Thus began my journey to write a book.
Thus far, I have taken the following steps:
Two of the books were young adult dystopias. After I read the first, I started the second and almost immediately thought, "Wow, this story line seems very familiar." Though I trust that the two authors eventually headed in different directions (I admit that I never made it through the second one to find out, though I do plan, in a far cry from good bookwormishness, to look up a plot summary online), both books started out with the same overarching plot points. When I described the similarities to my dad and offered that I could probably write that, he replied that I really probably could. (To his credit, he has not read either of the books in question.) Thus began my journey to write a book.
Thus far, I have taken the following steps:
- Decide that even though I thought it would be easiest to write a dystopia, that isn't the genre I'm most drawn to and turn instead to the realistic fantasy sector (yes, I believe that does exist).
- Come up with a basic setting and my main characters.
- Reject the setting and decide to relocate the book entirely.
- Start writing.
- Consider that I should probably develop a premise for the story before getting much past four pages in the writing process.
- Talk with my sister on Skype; divulge the first half of the nascent premise.
- Appreciate how alike she and I think; finish the conversation feeling like I'm on the right track.
- Reintroduce the setting that I had rejected, in modified form, for one of the main characters; keep the new setting for the other.
- Taking into account the new premise, delete one of the four pages written thus far; write two more.
- Think up the rest of the premise; prepare to write.
As you can see, I'm already ten steps (and five pages!) into the book. It really does have potential to be an enjoyable read. We shall see!
Until it gets to some readable stage, I have a wonderful evening project to occupy my time after the service day. It's fun to have a new goal (write a book) towards which to work after eleven relatively goal-free months since I turned 24 and, simultaneously, completed my time on the Congressional Award. I like goals.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Food Revisited
It's only a week to Halloween, which means it's time to get back to writing! (I'm not sure why it means that, but I hope we can both agree that it does.)
I attended the 7th annual Connecting for Change this weekend, a Bioneers by the Bay conference hosted by the wonderful Marion Institute. Though my biggest highlight of the weekend was seeing all the friendly faces of the fantastic Marion Institute staff and getting to see my lovely former NCCC housemate as her current team helped run the conference (she's now a team leader and spends lots of time making sure they all stay happy and alive), I also loved the conference itself. The keynotes were engaging and compelling; the workshops left me feeling empowered and change-y. (Can we also agree that 'change-y' is a word or would that be too much to ask?) It was a good weekend.
One of the speakers at the conference was Ben Hewitt, a native Vermonter and the author of 'The Town that Food Saved.' Among other topics, he spoke of how Americans on average spend 9.5% of our salaries on food and have the persisting perception that food should be cheap. He proclaimed, "Food should NOT be cheap! It's the most important thing you put in your body. ...It should NOT be cheap." This got me thinking. As part of my AmeriVentures, I've been attempting to stick close to my food stamps. By keeping my food budget close to $200 per month, I've endeavored to get some sense of what it's like to live on food stamps. The venture is falsely constructed, as I miss out on some of the primary emotions of living off food stamps: the fear that comes as that balance nears zero and the days of waiting for the exact moment when money will be added to the card. Instead, I calmly calculate how far over I went in the first two weeks with my plethora of fresh fruits and vegetables and attempt to limit myself with kitchen creativity in the last two weeks of each month.
The experiment is over. I attended the conference with a fellow VISTA (yet another AmeriFriend involved in change-yness) and we talked about the cost of food during our three-hour drive back from southeastern Massachusetts to southwestern Connecticut. She pointed out that we often talk about wanting everyone to have access to fresh produce or wanting everyone to have access to organic foods, but leave ourselves out of the equation. There are positives to spending in solidarity with those who don't have access; there are also positives to using the access I do have, to spending my money on fresh and organic foods and let it speak for my values in a way. Money talks, it seems.
As a result of all this conferencing and thinking, I've decided to readjust my budget to allow me to buy more fresh fruits and vegetables and, going a bit towards the other extreme, to buy more organic foods. I attended a workshop this weekend at which a doctor discussed just how far up the food chain we humans are - environment --> plants --> herbivores --> omnivores/carnivores (incl. humans) --> babies - and what that means for the concentration of toxins in our foods. This got me thinking about those pesticide sprayings any one pepper or zucchini may have had in its life. Wouldn't it be nice to eat a vegetable that hadn't been coated with chemicals 10 times over?
I thought this would indeed be nice, so I went to Stop & Shop (the Fairfield branch; I already adjusted my grocery shopping location when I found early on that a) this one is right on the way home from work rather than past my turn, and b) this one targets a different demographic and that demographic is admittedly much closer to my own, preferring local apples and whole grains to chips and bread for the focal displays). I picked up what organic vegetables I could find beyond leafy greens (an eggplant and a bag of carrots) and some local apples then headed over to Whole Foods, got lots more organic vegetables, and headed home to a delicious dinner of tilapia, kale, mashed butternut squash, and a wheat roll (made locally without sugar). I spent much more money than I would have on this same trip before the weekend, but I ended up with an amazing meal that made me happy. I'll take that.
You, lovely reader, get the next step of my research into this is issue. I found some interesting data as I was looking up the 9.5% statistic online to make sure I was remembering accurately. The statistic was accurate...back in 2004. The USDA puts 2009 US expenditures on food consumed at home just under 7%. By comparison, citizens in Spain, France, and Italy (all of which, I must attest, have fantastic food and a wonderful food culture) spend about 14% of their income on food to be consumed at home. The USDA survey looked at 168 countries and found that people living in the United States commit the smallest percent of our expenditures to our food choices: every other one of the 168 nations commits a greater percentage. It's not surprising that Jordan, Indonesia, and Pakistan all top 40% in spending on food - Azerbaijan is at the extreme with 46.9% of household final income expenditures spent on food that was consumed at home. It does, however, provide a pretty stark image of the shift away from meals eaten in the household and suggests that perhaps there are greater points of concern than food not being cheap enough for the average American. As Ben Hewitt said, "Food should NOT be cheap! It's the most important thing you put in your body. ...It should NOT be cheap."
I'm off to do change-y things. Enjoy a crisp apple or other healthy fall treat this week!
I attended the 7th annual Connecting for Change this weekend, a Bioneers by the Bay conference hosted by the wonderful Marion Institute. Though my biggest highlight of the weekend was seeing all the friendly faces of the fantastic Marion Institute staff and getting to see my lovely former NCCC housemate as her current team helped run the conference (she's now a team leader and spends lots of time making sure they all stay happy and alive), I also loved the conference itself. The keynotes were engaging and compelling; the workshops left me feeling empowered and change-y. (Can we also agree that 'change-y' is a word or would that be too much to ask?) It was a good weekend.
One of the speakers at the conference was Ben Hewitt, a native Vermonter and the author of 'The Town that Food Saved.' Among other topics, he spoke of how Americans on average spend 9.5% of our salaries on food and have the persisting perception that food should be cheap. He proclaimed, "Food should NOT be cheap! It's the most important thing you put in your body. ...It should NOT be cheap." This got me thinking. As part of my AmeriVentures, I've been attempting to stick close to my food stamps. By keeping my food budget close to $200 per month, I've endeavored to get some sense of what it's like to live on food stamps. The venture is falsely constructed, as I miss out on some of the primary emotions of living off food stamps: the fear that comes as that balance nears zero and the days of waiting for the exact moment when money will be added to the card. Instead, I calmly calculate how far over I went in the first two weeks with my plethora of fresh fruits and vegetables and attempt to limit myself with kitchen creativity in the last two weeks of each month.
The experiment is over. I attended the conference with a fellow VISTA (yet another AmeriFriend involved in change-yness) and we talked about the cost of food during our three-hour drive back from southeastern Massachusetts to southwestern Connecticut. She pointed out that we often talk about wanting everyone to have access to fresh produce or wanting everyone to have access to organic foods, but leave ourselves out of the equation. There are positives to spending in solidarity with those who don't have access; there are also positives to using the access I do have, to spending my money on fresh and organic foods and let it speak for my values in a way. Money talks, it seems.
As a result of all this conferencing and thinking, I've decided to readjust my budget to allow me to buy more fresh fruits and vegetables and, going a bit towards the other extreme, to buy more organic foods. I attended a workshop this weekend at which a doctor discussed just how far up the food chain we humans are - environment --> plants --> herbivores --> omnivores/carnivores (incl. humans) --> babies - and what that means for the concentration of toxins in our foods. This got me thinking about those pesticide sprayings any one pepper or zucchini may have had in its life. Wouldn't it be nice to eat a vegetable that hadn't been coated with chemicals 10 times over?
I thought this would indeed be nice, so I went to Stop & Shop (the Fairfield branch; I already adjusted my grocery shopping location when I found early on that a) this one is right on the way home from work rather than past my turn, and b) this one targets a different demographic and that demographic is admittedly much closer to my own, preferring local apples and whole grains to chips and bread for the focal displays). I picked up what organic vegetables I could find beyond leafy greens (an eggplant and a bag of carrots) and some local apples then headed over to Whole Foods, got lots more organic vegetables, and headed home to a delicious dinner of tilapia, kale, mashed butternut squash, and a wheat roll (made locally without sugar). I spent much more money than I would have on this same trip before the weekend, but I ended up with an amazing meal that made me happy. I'll take that.
You, lovely reader, get the next step of my research into this is issue. I found some interesting data as I was looking up the 9.5% statistic online to make sure I was remembering accurately. The statistic was accurate...back in 2004. The USDA puts 2009 US expenditures on food consumed at home just under 7%. By comparison, citizens in Spain, France, and Italy (all of which, I must attest, have fantastic food and a wonderful food culture) spend about 14% of their income on food to be consumed at home. The USDA survey looked at 168 countries and found that people living in the United States commit the smallest percent of our expenditures to our food choices: every other one of the 168 nations commits a greater percentage. It's not surprising that Jordan, Indonesia, and Pakistan all top 40% in spending on food - Azerbaijan is at the extreme with 46.9% of household final income expenditures spent on food that was consumed at home. It does, however, provide a pretty stark image of the shift away from meals eaten in the household and suggests that perhaps there are greater points of concern than food not being cheap enough for the average American. As Ben Hewitt said, "Food should NOT be cheap! It's the most important thing you put in your body. ...It should NOT be cheap."
I'm off to do change-y things. Enjoy a crisp apple or other healthy fall treat this week!
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
They Were Right
People were right when they said that things would pick up once the students arrived. After spending more weeks wishing that something - anything - that a) I could start now and b) would take more than 4 hours to complete would come across my desk, our halls were filled with lost first-years and my desk was filled with tangible, long-term projects. It was a fantastic day.
A highlight was talking with Danielle, my lovely office-mate, about how students assume that we know absolutely everything just because we work there. Example? I had a student ask if I knew a certain professor (I didn't) then follow that up with a query about whether one lab was cancelled or all labs were cancelled because "I don't know if I'm missing class right now." And I'm supposed to know that how exactly? As she was texting and talking to a friend while sitting in the hallway unmoving, I figured she wasn't all too concerned about her potential absence. The hallway I work on is designated for language classes, which makes for fun trips to the water fountain to stay hydrated.
Most of my day's highlights, surprisingly for such a full work day, had little to do with general office happenings. (Speaking of fun office happenings, though, our new Center for Faith and Public Life Assistant Director officially accepted her job today! Now my supervisor can breathe many deep sighs of relief.)
Highlight #1: A phone conversation from one of the disaster coordinators I worked with last summer in Nashville, whom I hadn't talked to in over a year, during which I was able to help re-establish a potential disaster-response partnership with NCCC.
Highlight #2: Tutoring a couple of fellow VISTAs in GRE math - we worked on Pythagorean triples and 'special' right triangles. One brought me dark chocolate as a gift; they told me that what I'll be most tired of by the end of our tutoring sessions is them telling me that I should be a math teacher instead of going into administration. I was happy because they understood more after the two hours than before and some problems had become less scary.
Highlight #3: Putting a trip to NYC with my mom on my calendar for Explorers' Day weekend. My mother, good food, and Broadway? Winning combination.
Highlight #4: A sincere email from a friend.
Highlight #5: Discovering that my rugby team plays at Yale - only 45 minutes from me - in less than a month. I haven't seen them play since graduation! So excited.
Highlight #6: Another phone conversation about disaster, this time in which Melissa set me up to connect students at Fairfield with an NCCC team doing disaster-response volunteer coordination in Connecticut. She got back to me faster than the Red Cross, whom the team will be working for under a FEMA deployment. Friends are awesome.
So today was a day full of connections, reconnections, and math learning fun time. Total win.
As for tomorrow, Danielle and I will be training nine students in the Service-Learning Associates program. The students will each support a faculty member in a service-learning class with logistics, communication, coordination, etc. And I get to meet another Community Partner! Things are indeed picking up : )
A highlight was talking with Danielle, my lovely office-mate, about how students assume that we know absolutely everything just because we work there. Example? I had a student ask if I knew a certain professor (I didn't) then follow that up with a query about whether one lab was cancelled or all labs were cancelled because "I don't know if I'm missing class right now." And I'm supposed to know that how exactly? As she was texting and talking to a friend while sitting in the hallway unmoving, I figured she wasn't all too concerned about her potential absence. The hallway I work on is designated for language classes, which makes for fun trips to the water fountain to stay hydrated.
Most of my day's highlights, surprisingly for such a full work day, had little to do with general office happenings. (Speaking of fun office happenings, though, our new Center for Faith and Public Life Assistant Director officially accepted her job today! Now my supervisor can breathe many deep sighs of relief.)
Highlight #1: A phone conversation from one of the disaster coordinators I worked with last summer in Nashville, whom I hadn't talked to in over a year, during which I was able to help re-establish a potential disaster-response partnership with NCCC.
Highlight #2: Tutoring a couple of fellow VISTAs in GRE math - we worked on Pythagorean triples and 'special' right triangles. One brought me dark chocolate as a gift; they told me that what I'll be most tired of by the end of our tutoring sessions is them telling me that I should be a math teacher instead of going into administration. I was happy because they understood more after the two hours than before and some problems had become less scary.
Highlight #3: Putting a trip to NYC with my mom on my calendar for Explorers' Day weekend. My mother, good food, and Broadway? Winning combination.
Highlight #4: A sincere email from a friend.
Highlight #5: Discovering that my rugby team plays at Yale - only 45 minutes from me - in less than a month. I haven't seen them play since graduation! So excited.
Highlight #6: Another phone conversation about disaster, this time in which Melissa set me up to connect students at Fairfield with an NCCC team doing disaster-response volunteer coordination in Connecticut. She got back to me faster than the Red Cross, whom the team will be working for under a FEMA deployment. Friends are awesome.
So today was a day full of connections, reconnections, and math learning fun time. Total win.
As for tomorrow, Danielle and I will be training nine students in the Service-Learning Associates program. The students will each support a faculty member in a service-learning class with logistics, communication, coordination, etc. And I get to meet another Community Partner! Things are indeed picking up : )
Monday, August 22, 2011
In Which I Go Grocery Shopping
I found my blog on only the second try this time. I'm so glad it's not too hard for me to locate. Thanks, Google.
My exciting news update of the evening is that I went grocery shopping. "Wait," you say, "you love food. Of course you went grocery shopping. Why, you probably go twice a week!" Okay, I admit that's true. This, however, was a special grocery trip as it was my first with food stamps. Translation: actual groceries!
My savings would have allowed me to spend lots of money on groceries up until now, but I'd rather attempt some minuscule understanding of what it's like to wait for federal aid to kick in so I had been spending fairly day-to-day up until now. Granted, I got lots of fresh fruit; I tried to limit the fruit and other purchases to things I would consume in the next couple of days in hopes that my EBT card (the debit card on which food stamps are now distributed) would arrive in the mail. Due to my AmeriCorps term showing up in a federal-database search of my social security number, I had to send in an excepted income letter (which VISTA provides to all active members) before I could receive benefits. This states that members' pre-existing benefits cannot be reduced as a result of our AmeriCorps living stipend. Since I applied ten days before I started service, I could use this letter to receive benefits at pre-AmeriCorps levels. The outcome of this letter-requirement was that I was moved from expedited to regular processing for SNAP benefits so ended up receiving my EBT card about 2 1/2 weeks after applying. This is, I will note, much better and nicer than having to wait the full 30 days it could possibly take. I'll now get $200 every month to spend on food. This makes grocery shopping generally more pleasant and enjoyable.
As a side note, I'm enjoying shopping at Stop & Shop much more than I thought I would. I had planned to do most of my shopping at Whole Foods, but I love that the Stop & Shop a mile from my house in Bridgeport helps make Bridgeport not-a-food-desert and I feel obligated to support it in its provision of fresh produce and other healthy options to the community. I also like shopping in the community which I serve rather than across the border in Fairfield. As I generally consider the Fairfield-Bridgeport community my service domain (and hope students will grow to see that as their community too), this may be a bit hypocritical. That said, I'm fully aware that I do service here because Bridgeport is here, not because of Fairfield. Supporting the Bridgeport economy and non-food-desert status works for me.
Happily, I now have delicious salads prepared for all week. Yum.
My exciting news update of the evening is that I went grocery shopping. "Wait," you say, "you love food. Of course you went grocery shopping. Why, you probably go twice a week!" Okay, I admit that's true. This, however, was a special grocery trip as it was my first with food stamps. Translation: actual groceries!
My savings would have allowed me to spend lots of money on groceries up until now, but I'd rather attempt some minuscule understanding of what it's like to wait for federal aid to kick in so I had been spending fairly day-to-day up until now. Granted, I got lots of fresh fruit; I tried to limit the fruit and other purchases to things I would consume in the next couple of days in hopes that my EBT card (the debit card on which food stamps are now distributed) would arrive in the mail. Due to my AmeriCorps term showing up in a federal-database search of my social security number, I had to send in an excepted income letter (which VISTA provides to all active members) before I could receive benefits. This states that members' pre-existing benefits cannot be reduced as a result of our AmeriCorps living stipend. Since I applied ten days before I started service, I could use this letter to receive benefits at pre-AmeriCorps levels. The outcome of this letter-requirement was that I was moved from expedited to regular processing for SNAP benefits so ended up receiving my EBT card about 2 1/2 weeks after applying. This is, I will note, much better and nicer than having to wait the full 30 days it could possibly take. I'll now get $200 every month to spend on food. This makes grocery shopping generally more pleasant and enjoyable.
As a side note, I'm enjoying shopping at Stop & Shop much more than I thought I would. I had planned to do most of my shopping at Whole Foods, but I love that the Stop & Shop a mile from my house in Bridgeport helps make Bridgeport not-a-food-desert and I feel obligated to support it in its provision of fresh produce and other healthy options to the community. I also like shopping in the community which I serve rather than across the border in Fairfield. As I generally consider the Fairfield-Bridgeport community my service domain (and hope students will grow to see that as their community too), this may be a bit hypocritical. That said, I'm fully aware that I do service here because Bridgeport is here, not because of Fairfield. Supporting the Bridgeport economy and non-food-desert status works for me.
Happily, I now have delicious salads prepared for all week. Yum.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Let's Talk About Service
06430, one of the zip codes of Fairfield, Connecticut, ranks 40th overall on Mongabay.com's list of the "100 richest zip codes in the United States". But wait, you say, where's its neighbor Bridgeport on the list? Well, let's look at Mongabay's list of the 200 wealthiest zip codes in Connecticut (all lists ranking by income as per IRS tax returns). There's another Fairfield zip code. Still no Bridgeport....
According to money.cnn.com, which ranked Fairfield as one of the 100 contenders for the ten best places to live in the United States in 2010 (the city placed 9th in the same ranking in 2006), Fairfield's median family income per year is $127,920. While I'll be serving at Fairfield University this year, few (if any) of the volunteer opportunities I help shape for students will be in Fairfield. Most will be in Bridgeport, Fairfield's neighbor to the east, which shares a common border but differs on most levels, from road quality to racial diversity to income.
As I prepare to drive to Philadelphia for my VISTA pre-service orientation tomorrow, I decided to take a look at the numbers: how different are these neighbors? I checked out the composition of each city in 2009 at city-data.com. Here's how they stack up:
Population - Fairfield: 57,578; Bridgeport: 137,298
Median household income - Fairfield: $101,192; Bridgeport: $39,949; CT average: $67,034
Primary racial composition - Fairfield: 93.6% white alone; Bridgeport: 35.6% Hispanic, 33.7% black alone, 26.7% white alone
That's just a quick sketch - obviously both cities are far more diverse than any three quantitative statistics could show - but it does paint quite the picture for the service year ahead. Here we have a rich, white town bordering a much less wealthy, far more ethnically diverse city. Suddenly the white = rich assumptions people made about us obruni in Ghana, along with all the corresponding inaccuracies and stereotypes, seem relevant again.
As a final note on the disparity, I'll comment that my landlord rents this beautiful duplex on the water in Bridgeport (in Black Rock, one of the so-called 'safe' neighborhoods) because she decided she would rather pick up and move her son to Fairfield so he could attend public school than pay for him to go to private school in Bridgeport. There was no real consideration of sending him into the Bridgeport public school system. There's a lot of potential for valuable service here.
Tangentially related (if only that it also involves the upcoming service year), I now understand why AmeriCorps NCCC considers itself the hardcore younger sibling of VISTA and State & National, the two other AmeriCorps National Service programs. It considers itself thus because it is. There's no question in my mind - zero - that all three programs provide opportunities for amazingly valuable service, but NCCC gets hands dirty and hearts invested, asking members to give 100% every day physically and mentally. VISTA only asks for the mental and allows lots of that 'free time' unknown to NTrips.
When I was on disaster last year, my team worked multiple 60-plus hour, 6-day weeks. I logged over 70 hours a couple of those weeks. The VISTA commitment at Fairfield? 8:30 to 5 on weekdays. That includes a lunch break. Those 70 hours did not account for lunch. Rather than spend 10 or 11 hours on site plus two more doing paperwork before crashing for the night, I'll work until early evening then pack up and go home. Not every second will be devoted to service. I'll rarely end up in the office until 8 or 9 at night. Crazy, huh? It'll be a huge adjustment to have this entirely different schedule. I may spend a fair amount of off-hours time plotting new service partnerships or volunteering myself, though, which is something to which to look forward. Another thing to look forward to is the chocolate-chip-walnut brownies I made tonight as a gift for the friend I'll be visiting in Philadelphia tomorrow. Nobody said they all had to make it to her. Another difference from NCCC is the freedom and flexibility in food. Imagine going from one half of one refrigerator shelf for a week's worth of groceries to triple that for shop-whenever-I-want groceries. The difference a car makes in independence versus only our awesome, black, 15-passenger government van is phenomenal.
According to money.cnn.com, which ranked Fairfield as one of the 100 contenders for the ten best places to live in the United States in 2010 (the city placed 9th in the same ranking in 2006), Fairfield's median family income per year is $127,920. While I'll be serving at Fairfield University this year, few (if any) of the volunteer opportunities I help shape for students will be in Fairfield. Most will be in Bridgeport, Fairfield's neighbor to the east, which shares a common border but differs on most levels, from road quality to racial diversity to income.
As I prepare to drive to Philadelphia for my VISTA pre-service orientation tomorrow, I decided to take a look at the numbers: how different are these neighbors? I checked out the composition of each city in 2009 at city-data.com. Here's how they stack up:
Population - Fairfield: 57,578; Bridgeport: 137,298
Median household income - Fairfield: $101,192; Bridgeport: $39,949; CT average: $67,034
Primary racial composition - Fairfield: 93.6% white alone; Bridgeport: 35.6% Hispanic, 33.7% black alone, 26.7% white alone
That's just a quick sketch - obviously both cities are far more diverse than any three quantitative statistics could show - but it does paint quite the picture for the service year ahead. Here we have a rich, white town bordering a much less wealthy, far more ethnically diverse city. Suddenly the white = rich assumptions people made about us obruni in Ghana, along with all the corresponding inaccuracies and stereotypes, seem relevant again.
As a final note on the disparity, I'll comment that my landlord rents this beautiful duplex on the water in Bridgeport (in Black Rock, one of the so-called 'safe' neighborhoods) because she decided she would rather pick up and move her son to Fairfield so he could attend public school than pay for him to go to private school in Bridgeport. There was no real consideration of sending him into the Bridgeport public school system. There's a lot of potential for valuable service here.
Tangentially related (if only that it also involves the upcoming service year), I now understand why AmeriCorps NCCC considers itself the hardcore younger sibling of VISTA and State & National, the two other AmeriCorps National Service programs. It considers itself thus because it is. There's no question in my mind - zero - that all three programs provide opportunities for amazingly valuable service, but NCCC gets hands dirty and hearts invested, asking members to give 100% every day physically and mentally. VISTA only asks for the mental and allows lots of that 'free time' unknown to NTrips.
When I was on disaster last year, my team worked multiple 60-plus hour, 6-day weeks. I logged over 70 hours a couple of those weeks. The VISTA commitment at Fairfield? 8:30 to 5 on weekdays. That includes a lunch break. Those 70 hours did not account for lunch. Rather than spend 10 or 11 hours on site plus two more doing paperwork before crashing for the night, I'll work until early evening then pack up and go home. Not every second will be devoted to service. I'll rarely end up in the office until 8 or 9 at night. Crazy, huh? It'll be a huge adjustment to have this entirely different schedule. I may spend a fair amount of off-hours time plotting new service partnerships or volunteering myself, though, which is something to which to look forward. Another thing to look forward to is the chocolate-chip-walnut brownies I made tonight as a gift for the friend I'll be visiting in Philadelphia tomorrow. Nobody said they all had to make it to her. Another difference from NCCC is the freedom and flexibility in food. Imagine going from one half of one refrigerator shelf for a week's worth of groceries to triple that for shop-whenever-I-want groceries. The difference a car makes in independence versus only our awesome, black, 15-passenger government van is phenomenal.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Reality Shows & Muffins
As you may recall, I'm not as big a fan of reality TV as I used to be. When I was younger, MTV was hip and the Real World showed me all I could aspire not to be in all of its language-censored glory. Now...not so much. After getting to see the actual real world - that big blob spinning through the universe at thousands of miles an hour - reality television just isn't that interesting anymore. Why watch people fight when you could be hiking a mountain only ever traversed by goats and their herders in Argentina or lighting up a child's face with the gift of a ten-cent banana in Ghana? There simply seem to be better things to do with my time - attempt to fulfill my part in saving the world, for example.
All that noted, I found comfort in reality television last night. I was sitting on the couch of my new living room enjoying a fantastic Bollywood film on education - directed, produced by, and starring my new favorite actor Aamir Khan - when my housemate asked if there's any chance I watch the Bachelorette. I took this as a hope that she could watch it - it was - and we enjoyed the next hour settled in for an overly-drawn-out finale of love found and love crushed. As this was one of the two shows my roommates insisted we watch regularly in college (the other being Grey's Anatomy), there was a retro nostalgia (I know, I know, college is too recent for true nostalgia) in watching. More importantly, there were frequent commercials during which Staci and I had bonding time. She's moving out next week, bound for Florida for her next three-month optometry placement, but we can be friends in the meantime. I'm happy to know someone here now.
Another mundane-to-you, exciting-to-me happening last night was my actual lease signing! Yay! Now I'm all official here and can start feeling like this truly is home. In honor of this newfound home-iness, I baked muffins tonight. I used my new favorite banana-blueberry-walnut recipe, my spin-off of a basic banana muffin recipe. It's butter-free, oil-free, otherwise generally healthy, me-approved, parent-approved, and 100% delicious. Since I no longer have parents or parental coworkers on whom to foist extra muffins, I plan to freeze half so they can last, well, maybe a full week. Seriously, these muffins are awesome. The kitchen heated up beyond comfortable from the warmth-radiating stove, but the stove works and the muffins browned nicely so it was totally worth it.
Along with muffin success, I put my new frying pans (a holiday present from my mom) to good use making a stir-fry for dinner tonight. This included these awesome local green beans from home, some of which are traditional green and others of which are dark purple! The purple ones turn mottled purple-and-green in cooking, providing for a fun end result.
Speaking of food (as we so clearly were), I applied for food stamps today. We'll apparently be encouraged to apply for this and other government programs at next week's AmeriCorps VISTA orientation; it makes sense that they would encourage us to learn what it's like to be on food stamps as our stipend is just below the poverty line to help us better understand the experience of those we serve. I know my experience this year will be far cushier than that of most of the people I joined in line today, especially since many of them had multiple small children in tow and were in that office in the middle of a work morning and I saw a few teary-eyed faces of people departing from the back rooms. That said, I am so glad I have had this food-stamp experience thus far. It's one I never would have had were it not for AmeriCorps.
The office accepts applications from 8:30 to 11:30 every weekday morning and there was already a line of about 25 people (maybe 15 families represented) by the time I arrived at 10:30 AM. I had already printed and completed my application, but most people arrived empty-handed and were given the form to begin a new application as they stood in line. There were two other Caucasian people, an elderly couple, in line - Bridgeport is predominantly black and hispanic - and many mid-thirties mothers with young children. I waited about half an hour, handed in my form at the desk, was directed to wait for an interview, filled out one more form while waiting, was called into the back section of office cubicles after 15 minutes, passed through the only-unlocked-when-open door to meet the woman doing my intake, chatted with her and signed a couple more forms (e.g., stating that I'm not requesting food stamps for any fleeing felons), and headed out on my way. The whole process took just under an hour. Now I have one more form to mail in (verification from my housemate that we purchase our food separately) and I'll hypothetically begin receiving benefits.
Food stamps are awarded from the day your application is received at the office, so mine would begin from today. Applicants generally wouldn't start receiving SNAP (the food-stamp program is now technically the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program) benefits for up to 30 days, but I noticed that "Emergency SNAP (7 days)" was checked on my form rather than "SNAP (30 days)", probably because my only current income is well under a dollar of interest each month on my checking account while I'm paying full rent on my housing. VISTA, as a government service program, is considered excepted income; that is, my future VISTA stipend won't affect how much I receive in SNAP benefits, though it would be a factor were a VISTA to apply after beginning the service year. And you thought the government complicated things sometimes.... Overall, it'll be nice to have the extra money to put towards healthy, nutritious (read: generally more expensive) food. My landlord Stephanie seemed very surprised when she learned last night that fully two-thirds of my VISTA stipend will go to housing (rent & utilities). And that's for one of three rooms in one of two halves of a duplex. Welcome to the poverty line.
Addendum: I forgot to mention the most memorable part of my visit to my local branch of the Department of Social Services (where SNAP and other benefits are allocated): the security. Along with the perma-locked door to the back offices and movie-theater-ticket-window protective 'glass' encasing the front-desk workers (though not those at the information desk), one must leave a driver's license or other identification at the information desk to get the key to use either of the gender-specific, single-person bathrooms. I noticed the signs announcing this policy and watched one man return the key for his ID. There's also a police (or security?) officer always on duty there. It's easily apparent how such a place could foster distrust for the Department and feelings that no one really cares. The space for disconnect and distrust is quite large, full of locked doors and glassed-off spaces.
All that noted, I found comfort in reality television last night. I was sitting on the couch of my new living room enjoying a fantastic Bollywood film on education - directed, produced by, and starring my new favorite actor Aamir Khan - when my housemate asked if there's any chance I watch the Bachelorette. I took this as a hope that she could watch it - it was - and we enjoyed the next hour settled in for an overly-drawn-out finale of love found and love crushed. As this was one of the two shows my roommates insisted we watch regularly in college (the other being Grey's Anatomy), there was a retro nostalgia (I know, I know, college is too recent for true nostalgia) in watching. More importantly, there were frequent commercials during which Staci and I had bonding time. She's moving out next week, bound for Florida for her next three-month optometry placement, but we can be friends in the meantime. I'm happy to know someone here now.
Another mundane-to-you, exciting-to-me happening last night was my actual lease signing! Yay! Now I'm all official here and can start feeling like this truly is home. In honor of this newfound home-iness, I baked muffins tonight. I used my new favorite banana-blueberry-walnut recipe, my spin-off of a basic banana muffin recipe. It's butter-free, oil-free, otherwise generally healthy, me-approved, parent-approved, and 100% delicious. Since I no longer have parents or parental coworkers on whom to foist extra muffins, I plan to freeze half so they can last, well, maybe a full week. Seriously, these muffins are awesome. The kitchen heated up beyond comfortable from the warmth-radiating stove, but the stove works and the muffins browned nicely so it was totally worth it.
Along with muffin success, I put my new frying pans (a holiday present from my mom) to good use making a stir-fry for dinner tonight. This included these awesome local green beans from home, some of which are traditional green and others of which are dark purple! The purple ones turn mottled purple-and-green in cooking, providing for a fun end result.
Speaking of food (as we so clearly were), I applied for food stamps today. We'll apparently be encouraged to apply for this and other government programs at next week's AmeriCorps VISTA orientation; it makes sense that they would encourage us to learn what it's like to be on food stamps as our stipend is just below the poverty line to help us better understand the experience of those we serve. I know my experience this year will be far cushier than that of most of the people I joined in line today, especially since many of them had multiple small children in tow and were in that office in the middle of a work morning and I saw a few teary-eyed faces of people departing from the back rooms. That said, I am so glad I have had this food-stamp experience thus far. It's one I never would have had were it not for AmeriCorps.
The office accepts applications from 8:30 to 11:30 every weekday morning and there was already a line of about 25 people (maybe 15 families represented) by the time I arrived at 10:30 AM. I had already printed and completed my application, but most people arrived empty-handed and were given the form to begin a new application as they stood in line. There were two other Caucasian people, an elderly couple, in line - Bridgeport is predominantly black and hispanic - and many mid-thirties mothers with young children. I waited about half an hour, handed in my form at the desk, was directed to wait for an interview, filled out one more form while waiting, was called into the back section of office cubicles after 15 minutes, passed through the only-unlocked-when-open door to meet the woman doing my intake, chatted with her and signed a couple more forms (e.g., stating that I'm not requesting food stamps for any fleeing felons), and headed out on my way. The whole process took just under an hour. Now I have one more form to mail in (verification from my housemate that we purchase our food separately) and I'll hypothetically begin receiving benefits.
Food stamps are awarded from the day your application is received at the office, so mine would begin from today. Applicants generally wouldn't start receiving SNAP (the food-stamp program is now technically the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program) benefits for up to 30 days, but I noticed that "Emergency SNAP (7 days)" was checked on my form rather than "SNAP (30 days)", probably because my only current income is well under a dollar of interest each month on my checking account while I'm paying full rent on my housing. VISTA, as a government service program, is considered excepted income; that is, my future VISTA stipend won't affect how much I receive in SNAP benefits, though it would be a factor were a VISTA to apply after beginning the service year. And you thought the government complicated things sometimes.... Overall, it'll be nice to have the extra money to put towards healthy, nutritious (read: generally more expensive) food. My landlord Stephanie seemed very surprised when she learned last night that fully two-thirds of my VISTA stipend will go to housing (rent & utilities). And that's for one of three rooms in one of two halves of a duplex. Welcome to the poverty line.
Addendum: I forgot to mention the most memorable part of my visit to my local branch of the Department of Social Services (where SNAP and other benefits are allocated): the security. Along with the perma-locked door to the back offices and movie-theater-ticket-window protective 'glass' encasing the front-desk workers (though not those at the information desk), one must leave a driver's license or other identification at the information desk to get the key to use either of the gender-specific, single-person bathrooms. I noticed the signs announcing this policy and watched one man return the key for his ID. There's also a police (or security?) officer always on duty there. It's easily apparent how such a place could foster distrust for the Department and feelings that no one really cares. The space for disconnect and distrust is quite large, full of locked doors and glassed-off spaces.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Dangerously Awesome?
1.7 miles. That's how far from my new residence the huge, just-opened-in-June Whole Foods is. It shares a complex with also-useful CVS and Home Depot, the latter of which I've already frequented to pick up a small saw. Apparently bed assembly sometimes requires a bit of construction fun time. (I had opted to use a board over a box spring; the board had opted to be just too big at one corner to fit the frame. It has since changed its ways.) In good news, Stop & Shop is even closer than Whole Foods. This certainly isn't New Orleans.
As you could guess, I've officially moved into my new apartment (house? something?). I share one half of a duplex with two housemates. We have a big, sunny kitchen, a backyard with a porch looking out over the corner of a pretty cove and across to a baseball field (yay for Little League games!), and a living room with a super-cushy couch. (I should know, as I'm sitting on it right now.) My room is wonderful, which is to say it easily fits both a bed and my erg. Here's a picture:
The desk belonged to my great-great-aunt Ruth. My mom, who wonderfully let me take it, also helped me hang the pictures on the wall. It took ages due to the nature of the frames, but we finally got them straight! All three prints are by Aboriginal artists living in central Australia.
In other fun unpacking news, one of the newspaper pages my parents used to wrap up my dishes for the kitchen (thank you!) was an article from the New York Times Book Review about one of my history professors at Brown whose class on the American Revolution I took in his final semester before retirement. The article talked about how amazing he is as a leader in the field. As I hadn't generally been skimming the pages as I unwrapped, this was a neat chance find. I do remember his encyclopedic knowledge on the Revolution - kind of cool.
As you could guess, I've officially moved into my new apartment (house? something?). I share one half of a duplex with two housemates. We have a big, sunny kitchen, a backyard with a porch looking out over the corner of a pretty cove and across to a baseball field (yay for Little League games!), and a living room with a super-cushy couch. (I should know, as I'm sitting on it right now.) My room is wonderful, which is to say it easily fits both a bed and my erg. Here's a picture:
The desk belonged to my great-great-aunt Ruth. My mom, who wonderfully let me take it, also helped me hang the pictures on the wall. It took ages due to the nature of the frames, but we finally got them straight! All three prints are by Aboriginal artists living in central Australia.
In other fun unpacking news, one of the newspaper pages my parents used to wrap up my dishes for the kitchen (thank you!) was an article from the New York Times Book Review about one of my history professors at Brown whose class on the American Revolution I took in his final semester before retirement. The article talked about how amazing he is as a leader in the field. As I hadn't generally been skimming the pages as I unwrapped, this was a neat chance find. I do remember his encyclopedic knowledge on the Revolution - kind of cool.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Back in the States - In Which Rain is Softer and Life is Busy
I understand that it would seemingly be easier to post consistently to this blog in the States than in Barcelona or Paris, home having connectivity advantages over hostel life in either of those great cities. I understand that posting every 2 or 3 months does not advance any quest for frequency or regularity of blog additions. I understand that it shouldn't take me ten minutes to locate my own blog (to my credit(?), I was distracted by a recipe for apple sandwiches), regardless of how far down it is on the list of options granted to me by Google.
Let's agree that a) our 2 1/2 month hiatus means our reunion will be even sweeter, b) I probably still have lots of fun travel updates for you (true), and c) the new format I've designed for you may not be as easy a background for reading, but does have a very pretty picture from the Tuscan countryside. Those points concluded, let us commence.
I'll begin with the now-standard question: Where in the world is Becca? This week, I'm in Massachusetts, where it's currently raining outside - less intense than African rain, these droplets splat rather than pounding down. Next week, I'll be in Connecticut, where I'll be starting a sure-to-be-wonderful year of service through AmeriCorps VISTA. Since I last posted, I've been in Lyon (bonjour Tom!), Rome, Tuscany, Umbria (the region of Italy bordering Tuscany to the east), Massachusetts, Washington DC, and Maryland.
I do plan to share lots more fun travel updates, but I'll stick to recent life in America for today. Almost immediately after my return, just as the jet lag was wearing down, my sister arrived for a visit from Israel. She brought her three-and-a-half kids (hi Ud!) and her wonderfully patient husband Avigdor. We had a birthday party for her upon their arrival, complete with homemade kosher carrot cake and a piñata. She and I exchanged wonderful sisterly birthday/congratulations cards which I'm sure both of us will treasure forever (if we don't accidentally destroy them as they sing to us for the thousandth time). We took the girls (ages 4, 2, and 1) to the park, where they had fun riding the little train that loops around the grounds. Admittedly, I had fun riding it too. How could you not when seated with nieces bubbling over with excitement?
My next stop was DC. (I'd been home for ten whole days so it was clearly time to travel somewhere.) I had a fantastic visit with friends in our nation's ever-lovely capitol city and got to meet some truly amazing young people at the Congressional Award gold medal luncheon and ceremony. If you're worried about our nation's future resting in the hands of our generation, a) encourage service and b) don't be. Stopping at Perry Point on the trip north from DC, I enjoyed visiting AmeriCorps friends still serving in NCCC before they headed off for their next round of saving the world.
I returned home to settle in for a month of pre-VISTA relaxation and preparation. I took the GRE and was happy to find that I remembered what 'mendacious' means on test day. Since I hadn't formally studied big words just for those 4 hours of my life, I consider this a big success. I proceeded to begin grad application fun time, compiling the necessary paperwork for the September opening of applications and starting to compose essays. I admit that I still like applying to institutions of higher education - go ahead: judge. I also continued the epic quest, begun pre-world-travels, to sort through every item in my room in the pursuit of having less stuff. As these travels have shown, a backpack-full is often enough. I have many backpacks-full, but not so many as I once did. The great find of today, in a stack of paper that threatened to eat me whole if I don't sleep with one eye open, was the complete script of my rugby class' musical ode to the senior class our junior year. Words don't even begin to describe that creative work. In good news, the stack of paper is now down to the size where it might take three or four bites to consume me. I'm liking my odds.
I've also been playing with all the fun features on my new mac, working on an NCCC scrapbook (towards my goal of finishing one for the first time ever), and avidly watching the Tour de France. Sadly, the Tour (capital T) ended this weekend; happily, it'll resume a mere 49 weeks from now. Cycling, with its unique blend of competition and reliance on adversaries for survival, is quickly becoming one of my favorite spectator sports. Admittedly, this is probably greatly aided by my lack of attempts to watch it live; it's much more enjoyable to watch the leaders for two hours than for thirty seconds of blurry 35-miles-per-hour glory.
Let's agree that a) our 2 1/2 month hiatus means our reunion will be even sweeter, b) I probably still have lots of fun travel updates for you (true), and c) the new format I've designed for you may not be as easy a background for reading, but does have a very pretty picture from the Tuscan countryside. Those points concluded, let us commence.
I'll begin with the now-standard question: Where in the world is Becca? This week, I'm in Massachusetts, where it's currently raining outside - less intense than African rain, these droplets splat rather than pounding down. Next week, I'll be in Connecticut, where I'll be starting a sure-to-be-wonderful year of service through AmeriCorps VISTA. Since I last posted, I've been in Lyon (bonjour Tom!), Rome, Tuscany, Umbria (the region of Italy bordering Tuscany to the east), Massachusetts, Washington DC, and Maryland.
I do plan to share lots more fun travel updates, but I'll stick to recent life in America for today. Almost immediately after my return, just as the jet lag was wearing down, my sister arrived for a visit from Israel. She brought her three-and-a-half kids (hi Ud!) and her wonderfully patient husband Avigdor. We had a birthday party for her upon their arrival, complete with homemade kosher carrot cake and a piñata. She and I exchanged wonderful sisterly birthday/congratulations cards which I'm sure both of us will treasure forever (if we don't accidentally destroy them as they sing to us for the thousandth time). We took the girls (ages 4, 2, and 1) to the park, where they had fun riding the little train that loops around the grounds. Admittedly, I had fun riding it too. How could you not when seated with nieces bubbling over with excitement?
My next stop was DC. (I'd been home for ten whole days so it was clearly time to travel somewhere.) I had a fantastic visit with friends in our nation's ever-lovely capitol city and got to meet some truly amazing young people at the Congressional Award gold medal luncheon and ceremony. If you're worried about our nation's future resting in the hands of our generation, a) encourage service and b) don't be. Stopping at Perry Point on the trip north from DC, I enjoyed visiting AmeriCorps friends still serving in NCCC before they headed off for their next round of saving the world.
I returned home to settle in for a month of pre-VISTA relaxation and preparation. I took the GRE and was happy to find that I remembered what 'mendacious' means on test day. Since I hadn't formally studied big words just for those 4 hours of my life, I consider this a big success. I proceeded to begin grad application fun time, compiling the necessary paperwork for the September opening of applications and starting to compose essays. I admit that I still like applying to institutions of higher education - go ahead: judge. I also continued the epic quest, begun pre-world-travels, to sort through every item in my room in the pursuit of having less stuff. As these travels have shown, a backpack-full is often enough. I have many backpacks-full, but not so many as I once did. The great find of today, in a stack of paper that threatened to eat me whole if I don't sleep with one eye open, was the complete script of my rugby class' musical ode to the senior class our junior year. Words don't even begin to describe that creative work. In good news, the stack of paper is now down to the size where it might take three or four bites to consume me. I'm liking my odds.
I've also been playing with all the fun features on my new mac, working on an NCCC scrapbook (towards my goal of finishing one for the first time ever), and avidly watching the Tour de France. Sadly, the Tour (capital T) ended this weekend; happily, it'll resume a mere 49 weeks from now. Cycling, with its unique blend of competition and reliance on adversaries for survival, is quickly becoming one of my favorite spectator sports. Admittedly, this is probably greatly aided by my lack of attempts to watch it live; it's much more enjoyable to watch the leaders for two hours than for thirty seconds of blurry 35-miles-per-hour glory.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Pictures! So many pictures!
Since I'm about to head to Italy tomorrow (and, crazily, back to the States one month from today), I share with you some pictures of adorable African orphan children to tide you over until I get around to posting about the rest of my time in Ghana. Here's the link to week 1; weeks 2 and 3 are the same with the appropriate number replacement:
https://picasaweb.google.com/Becca.Constantine/GhanaWeek1#
Enjoy!
https://picasaweb.google.com/Becca.Constantine/GhanaWeek1#
Enjoy!
Day 8 - From Obruni to Yevu
Saturday, March 19 – Day 8
I’m in the Volta region! I’m also mildly sunburned on both forearms except for the bracelet spot on my left wrist. This means I got sunburned in a period of approximately two hours after sweating off all the sunscreen I had applied in the intense late-morning heat.
Emily decided this morning to join Tamar and I on our journey northeast to the Volta region. (Ghana has ten regions, somewhat like American states.) We took a taxi up to Odumase-Krobo for nine cedies. That’s six dollars for three people to go 45 minutes and he was already overcharging us at that rate. Everything is directional here; the cab was also carrying another woman headed the same way. [Note from the future: Everything being directional means that all you needed to know to get to another town or city was what direction it was. To go to Madina or Accra by trotro, you simply stood on the appropriate side of the road (i.e., the side on which traffic was headed towards the city) and waited for a trotro, any trotro, going that way.]
The cab driver dropped us off at Cedi’s Bead Factory, half a mile down a dirt track from the (paved) main road, where we were immediately approached by a very friendly man who guided us through everything about the place. He showed us the primary ways they create all the beads – all handmade – in the factory and showed us around the outdoor facilities including the main bead-making area in which five others were working and the blazing-hot outdoor kiln. Afterwards, he took us to the little bead store filled with beautiful handmade crafts. I got myself a wonderful bracelet for 2 cedis which alternates beads fired from tiny pieces of broken-bottle glass with beads which are fired, painted, then re-fired. I also liked the colorful beads made by pouring powders of different colors into a small mould. I got Mom a bead-strung clay bowl; the clay was also shaped and fired there. I enjoy how much is handmade here.
We continued on to another market on the road north to Kpong, where I picked up my first two (of at least ten, I anticipate [note from the future: more]) yards of gorgeous fabrics. They’re all colorful and beautifully printed. We then took a long tro ride from Kpong to Ho. When the trotro guy tried to overcharge us five cedis per person for the hour-plus ride because we’re white so must have money (we ended up paying a still-inflated four cedis each), the man in front of us offered the comfort that God does not favor people who do such things. Religion does seem to have a good place in that man’s life.
We reached our final destination of Ho mid-afternoon. Tamar’s former project medical director, Eric from Projects Abroad (another international volunteer program), met us at the Ho trotro station in the taxi he drives when he’s not working at Projects Abroad. He took us to the hotel room he had booked for us then drove us out to visit Tamar’s host family from her first month here in Ghana. Spending time with their healthy 8-month-old boy playing with his assortment of toys made me miss our orphanage kids with their minimal-toy, maximal-creativity jubilation.
From there, we continued on to dinner, where I tried the traditional Ghanaian meal of banku with grilled tilapia. The tilapia, served whole and eaten by hand (to facilitate bone-avoidance) was delicious. I also enjoyed the banku, a bread-dough-like ball from which large chunks are broken off, dipped in a spicy salsa-like sauce, and swallowed whole. Apparently, swallowing the large chunks whole keeps it in your stomach for digestion longer, extending the time for which you feel full. I also tried some of Emily’s kenke, another traditional meal similar to banku but made with only corn rather than corn and cassava. Emily likes kenke but can’t stand banku. Indeed, many volunteers dislike banku. I enjoyed the new eating style and experience. It was fun.
We’re now in the outdoor back area of a local bar with a couple of Tamar’s Projects Abroad friends and Eric. There’s a monkey sitting on the fence about ten feet away. A monkey. This, friends, is Africa.
[Note from the future: Later in the evening, one of the bar guys leashed the monkey to a tree. Emily decided to try to pet it. She was unsuccessful: the monkey punched her. Yes, Emily has been in a bar fight with a monkey in Africa. I share this anecdote to validate my behavior with regards to the chicken incident of my final morning.]
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Springtime in Paris
Bonjour world!
Yes, it's true, my plan to post daily has been sidetracked slightly. After 10 lovely, mostly internet-free (other than AmeriCorps-position-related emailing) days with my mom in Barcelona, I'm here in beautiful Paris. Internet at the hostel, like most things in Paris, is not free. This has encouraged people to resort to other measures (mostly wine and good conversation) for evening entertainment. We spend our days out in the sun, wandering parks and busy streets, or sheltered in the magnificent shade of the Louvre or some other wonder. I spent four hours inside the Louvre yesterday, during which my love of Michelangelo's work was reaffirmed. (His 'Captive Slave' sculpture is on display there.) It made me even more excited for Rome & Florence.
There'll be time for more travel stories later (mostly lots more on Ghana), but I'll share three highlights now so you too can soak in culture from your home or office (not that you would ever read this at work, of course):
1. Watching Rafael Nadal, the top-ranked tennis player in the world right now, overtake international #6 David Ferrer in the finals of the Barcelona Open. Both players are from Spain, but Rafa was more of a hometown favorite as judged by the posters and cheering of the crowd. I enjoy that tennis spectators use a slow clap to encourage players in break-point situations.
2. Making new friends on a free 3-1/2 hour tour of Paris offered through all the local hostels and spending the entire rest of the day taking photos of and in front of monuments of stunning grandeur (e.g., the Eiffel Tower, Paris' Arc de Triomphe). (Note: Most of our pictures were far less lopsided than this one; many involved jumping.)
3. Meeting about ten English-speaking individuals or pairs at the hostel after an entire day of near-silence not knowing anyone or being even close to passably speaking the language (reading: yes; comprehending: sometimes; speaking: no) and spending five or so hours sitting around in the common area playing card games and such. Extroverts love such happenings, in general.
Okay, I'm off to read the book I picked up at the Barcelona hostel (after leaving the one I had finished, I chose one of the few English options on the multi-lingual 'library' shelf) then get some sleep before an early train to Lyon in the morning.
Upcoming plan: Lyon then a month in Italy with Dad. Back in the States on June 9th.
Hope life is fantastic!
Yes, it's true, my plan to post daily has been sidetracked slightly. After 10 lovely, mostly internet-free (other than AmeriCorps-position-related emailing) days with my mom in Barcelona, I'm here in beautiful Paris. Internet at the hostel, like most things in Paris, is not free. This has encouraged people to resort to other measures (mostly wine and good conversation) for evening entertainment. We spend our days out in the sun, wandering parks and busy streets, or sheltered in the magnificent shade of the Louvre or some other wonder. I spent four hours inside the Louvre yesterday, during which my love of Michelangelo's work was reaffirmed. (His 'Captive Slave' sculpture is on display there.) It made me even more excited for Rome & Florence.
There'll be time for more travel stories later (mostly lots more on Ghana), but I'll share three highlights now so you too can soak in culture from your home or office (not that you would ever read this at work, of course):
1. Watching Rafael Nadal, the top-ranked tennis player in the world right now, overtake international #6 David Ferrer in the finals of the Barcelona Open. Both players are from Spain, but Rafa was more of a hometown favorite as judged by the posters and cheering of the crowd. I enjoy that tennis spectators use a slow clap to encourage players in break-point situations.
2. Making new friends on a free 3-1/2 hour tour of Paris offered through all the local hostels and spending the entire rest of the day taking photos of and in front of monuments of stunning grandeur (e.g., the Eiffel Tower, Paris' Arc de Triomphe). (Note: Most of our pictures were far less lopsided than this one; many involved jumping.)
3. Meeting about ten English-speaking individuals or pairs at the hostel after an entire day of near-silence not knowing anyone or being even close to passably speaking the language (reading: yes; comprehending: sometimes; speaking: no) and spending five or so hours sitting around in the common area playing card games and such. Extroverts love such happenings, in general.
Okay, I'm off to read the book I picked up at the Barcelona hostel (after leaving the one I had finished, I chose one of the few English options on the multi-lingual 'library' shelf) then get some sleep before an early train to Lyon in the morning.
Upcoming plan: Lyon then a month in Italy with Dad. Back in the States on June 9th.
Hope life is fantastic!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Bad Me
Sorry folks, no Ghana post tonight.
In good news, I might actually have a spot in an AmeriCorps position when I get home at the rate I'm going.
Real Madrid won 1-0 over Barcelona last night. The locals weren't happy, but some of the older boys in Ghana were. I tend to side with them : )
In good news, I might actually have a spot in an AmeriCorps position when I get home at the rate I'm going.
Real Madrid won 1-0 over Barcelona last night. The locals weren't happy, but some of the older boys in Ghana were. I tend to side with them : )
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Gooooooooooooooooaaaaaaal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh hey!
This is to inform you, the loyal reader, that I won't be posting about Ghana tonight because I'll be off with fellow travelers watching the Barcelona-Real Madrid football game at some fine establishment.
More tomorrow!
This is to inform you, the loyal reader, that I won't be posting about Ghana tonight because I'll be off with fellow travelers watching the Barcelona-Real Madrid football game at some fine establishment.
More tomorrow!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Espana
All my posts may be about Africa, but I'm actually in Spain right now, as you may recall. Barcelona is big and entirely different from Dodowa, but also beautiful and full of life and energy. This morning, I toured a chocolate museum with three other girls from the hostel, one from Taiwan and two from the north of France. The entrance ticket was a chocolate bar and two of us enjoyed a hot chocolate drink at the end that was basically still-warm melted chocolate. Fantastic.
Fun fact from the chocolate museum: There's a huge tradition of giving mona (from Arabic munna, a type of gift) on Easter Monday (next Monday) in Barcelona. The mona is a cake the godfather gives to his godson every year up to his first communion at age 12. The cake is topped with one hard-boiled egg for each year of the godson's life. It seems that the tradition has evolved into families eating cake on Easter Monday. Between Mom's arrival and Valentine's Day on Saturday, tennis finals and Easter on Sunday, and Easter mona cakes on Monday, I don't know how I'll stand all the excitement. It's going to be a fabulous week.
In other news, I took a two-hour nap today. Reminded me of Ghana.
Fun fact from the chocolate museum: There's a huge tradition of giving mona (from Arabic munna, a type of gift) on Easter Monday (next Monday) in Barcelona. The mona is a cake the godfather gives to his godson every year up to his first communion at age 12. The cake is topped with one hard-boiled egg for each year of the godson's life. It seems that the tradition has evolved into families eating cake on Easter Monday. Between Mom's arrival and Valentine's Day on Saturday, tennis finals and Easter on Sunday, and Easter mona cakes on Monday, I don't know how I'll stand all the excitement. It's going to be a fabulous week.
In other news, I took a two-hour nap today. Reminded me of Ghana.
Day 6 - 37 Hospital
Thursday, March 17 – Day 6
I am in the hospital.
Don’t worry, I don’t have malaria or typhoid or any other ailment of which I’m aware. Emily, Tamar, and I are here at Accra hospital with Bismark and Joshua because Joshua broke [Note from the future: badly sprained] his wrist last night playing football (soccer). The older boys play football on the field every day after school. It is their sport and their passion.
Joshua broke the same wrist he had broken back when he was eight years old and somebody hit him or pushed him down. (Physical violence is common here to teach respect and many of the WORCSA children have difficult pasts, some including abuse.) Sara, Niki, and I met him last night en route from the house to the orphanage. We had been headed up to tutor but Niki and I offered to walk Joshua’s health insurance card back to the volunteer house. Two of the older boys escorted us.
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| Joshua getting his wrist checked by Michelle. |
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| Volunteers handle all the kids' medical matters, including dispensing medicines for a fever or even malaria, deciding when hospital trips are warranted, and trying to figure out when the kids just want attention or the candy-sweet medicines. |
Health insurance, unsurprisingly, is different here. Take Joshua, for example. Joshua, like all the kids at WORCSA, gets insurance for 4 cedis per year (paid by volunteers). His most recent health insurance card for his annual renewal has yet to be delivered from Accra by the health insurance man who comes once every three or so months. The temporary card he has expired yesterday. Even with the health insurance card, which has 15-year-old Joshua’s birth year as 1996 but his age listed as only 11, we paid an 8-cedi registration fee when we checked in at the hospital. Before the insurance man delivers the good-for-one-year card, the insurance place in Accra takes four months (of that one year) to process it. It’s a long, drawn-out affair.
This is a country of hospitals and clinics rather than primary care physicians so Accra’s 37 Hospital is full of people. X-ray sent us to the full-to-the-brim clinic waiting room to get a referral. The clinic shifted us (before we waited in any line, fortunately) to registration, where we got Joshua a patient card and paid the 8-cedi fee. After registration, Tamar and Bismark asked around for where we should head next. Someone at the clinic said we should go to the trauma & surgical ER and someone else said we should go to the clinic; we headed to the ER to avoid the long clinic line. There, we met the super-helpful older entry nurse who green-lighted us through the consultation and referral process after having a younger nurse do a basic blood pressure / pulse check right there at the wooden entry table. All the nurses wear blue-and-white or green-and-white versions of the stereotypical World War II nurses’ uniform, complete with pinned-on apron and stiffly folded three-sided white cap.
Day 7 - A Very Good Day
Friday, March 18th – Day 7
Today was my best day here yet, I feel comfortable saying. Above all else, it was filled with high-quality one-on-one and small-group time.
I helped Beauty, the second youngest to Godwyn, get ready this morning then carried her to the bus stop. Three of the youngest – she, Godwyn, and Chicababy – are sponsored to attend Word of Faith Christian School along with all the oldest kids Word of Faith is infinitely better education-wise than the local Methodist school which the younger kids attend. It also costs about $700 US per year. On a plus for Beauty, who was badly abused until her arrival at WORCSA and still lashes out, Word of Faith was established by two American women and does not use caning as a disciplinary tool.
I walked Beauty then stood at the bus stop holding her, then, at one point, her in my left arm and Godwyn in my right with Chica hugging my legs from the front, watching the kids interact. One of the boys not from WORCSA walked to the stop carrying the remainder of a loaf of bread, about 3 pieces, in its bag. He handed chunks around generously, including one to little Godwyn. I started home shortly before the bus arrived and enjoyed watching the older kids help the little ones board the trotro-sized bus.
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| Though everyone agrees that Godwyn is two years old, the teachers at Word of Faith say he's close to three based on his development. He's smaller than my 17-month-old niece due to a severe protein deficiency when he was young, which, as they learn in school, leads to a condition called Kwarshkior. Playing with a plastic bowl in the corner, he looks like the quintessential African orphan baby; he's actually incredibly lively and adorably sweet. |
Highlight of my day: the afternoon. This afternoon started slowly enough. It felt like there were fewer kids out-and-about than usual, even compared to the standard quieter atmosphere between the time the Methodist school kids get out around 2:30 and the Word of Faith kids’ bus drop-off at about 4. I spent quite some time sitting outside the boys’ room with Tamar, Niki, Joshua (who had stayed home from school due to the pain in his injured arm), George (the oldest, who was playing DJ on a cell phone that had a few stored African songs), Bismark (the third oldest, he’s George’s younger brother and co-leader at the orphanage), and ever-shifting combinations of younger boys dancing to the music. The oldest boys (George included; Bismark will transfer there from Methodist after Easter break) weren’t at Word of Faith because they’re studying for exams.
Later, when the WoF kids arrived, I spent some more time carrying around Beauty and allowing children to take pictures with my camera. George called me over and said he’d heard I’m good at maths. He absolutely must have heard this from Bismark, with whom I had a conversation in the hospital registration waiting area during which I pledged my love of math and tutoring math (without introducing the foreign concept of ‘tutor’) and offered my willingness to help him or anyone else in search of math-improvement help.
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| George, age 18 |
I affirmed for George that I know and love math(s) and he asked me to help him. We spent the next hour one-on-one in the otherwise-deserted classroom working largely uninterrupted on finding solution sets to inequalities involving a variable and some fractions (e.g., 5/3 x – 4/3 > x + 11/12). Lucky came in twice to try to run off with my camera case, but George handled him beautifully, making a game of chasing him under the desks until he rescued my case from now-shrieking-with-laughter Lucky.
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| Lucky (school name: Daniel), age 6 |
George and Joshua voluntarily walked me home after the study session, though it was not yet dark. George, who’s 18, wants to go to an American university in three years after he graduates Word of Faith, then continue on to medical school and become a doctor. His favorite class is biology. Joshua, who has years to decide his future, gently and super-sweetly coached me on the appropriate proximity (within about a yard) at which to extend a greeting to people who are passing. As greetings are essential, I very much appreciated the unprompted etiquette lesson.
Most of us returned to the orphanage after dinner (fried rice with a token smattering of vegetables) for the Friday night dance party George had told me on the walk home would occur if we showed up. Though Niki and Tamar got their groove on, many of us just sat and held kids. I held Kujo, then sat him on my lap as I read to him, Kwame, and Eto. Kwame had found two short kids’ books, one a Winnie-the-Pooh story about fall, and I read each aloud two or three times. The boys were much more patient than in daytime.
Afterwards, I walked a crying Lucky around to calm him then sang goodnight-circle camp songs to him and Kujo while sitting between them as both fell asleep with their heads in my lap. I eventually carried Kujo successfully to bed (a corner of a rug on the floor in the boys’ room – none of the youngest children have bunk beds), then chatted with Eto and Samuel about football and music before the latter fell asleep with his head in my lap. It was a peaceful night.
In other events, I took my first bucket shower today (so easy) and Tamar and I walked the five minutes to the salon this morning to get our hair braided. Even with three or more women working on it at all times, mine took nearly two hours to braid. The price? Ten cedis (about $6.50 US). I tipped two cedis to bring the total to a whopping 8 USD. Things are different here.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Dodowa vs. Barcelona
As it turns out, there exist some differences between a village in Ghana and a bustling city in Spain. Here are five differences of note from the past two days:
- Fruits & vegetables - Out of the typhoid, malaria, et al. zone, I've immensely enjoyed getting to eat fruits and vegetables that can't or shouldn't be peeled in uncooked form again. Selections from the past 48 hours include pear, apple, plum, pepper, carrots, and zucchini. Yum.
- Running water - I found that I use water differently now that I'm so used to bucket showers. It no longer makes sense for the shower to run for five minutes straight or for the tap to run for the ten seconds it takes me to apply soap to my hands. Once you've had all your water carried to your house in buckets (note: I tried it; water is heavy) by small children for a couple of weeks, every drop has a lot more significance.
- Electricity - The power is on right now. It was yesterday and will be tomorrow. Nice but vaguely unsettling in its surety.
- Greetings - Everybody greets everybody when passing on the street in Ghana. If you're within two feet of another person, it's considered rude not to say "good morning", "good afternoon", or "good evening". People in big cities tend to give you strange looks when you offer a simple "hello" ("hola") or even make eye contact. It's very different.
- Walking in groups - Yesterday, I was walking with another girl and we passed a pair coming from the other direction. She went around them to the right, I to the left. In Ghana, we would both have passed to the same side of the other group. It's believed that when you cross members with another group in passing, your luck crosses with theirs. You may get good luck, but you'll also get their bad luck. Crossing paths with another group is thus avoided.
Accra Pictures
Pictures tend to make foreign (literally) concepts easier to visualize and comprehend. Also, they're pretty. In upcoming times, I'll post more pictures of adorable and energetic orphan children, but here are a couple from the first days in Accra to begin:
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| The IVHQ Ghana volunteer house (left) & compound |
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| A first impression of Accra (uh-KRAW), the big city |
Day 4 - It begins.
Tuesday, March 15 – Day 4
Happy Ides of March?
Today was my first day at the volunteer house in Dodowa and at the WORCSA orphanage at which we volunteer. Life has shifted rather a lot in the past 12 hours since our morning IVHQ orientation. We start our day at just past 5:30 tomorrow morning, so I’ll keep it short.
The kids are challenging and attention-deficit and engaged and fantastic, often all at the same time. Peter, one of the older boys, might have malaria, according to fellow volunteers Michelle (who was a nurse for years back home in England) and Tamar (who started this morning with Niki and I after a month on a medical project through a different program). Tamar, by the way, unconcernedly has typhoid; apparently the shot is only 85% effective. Lucky, who has special needs, clung to my back for much of an hour this afternoon. Kujo, who’s maybe 3 [note: he’s 5], fell asleep in my arms briefly before an orange-drink snack was brought out. I helped Eto and Elizabeth and two others with math homework, a highlight of the day. Eto was working on basic multiplication (e.g., 5x6), the girls on expressions such as 2a[(3x+y)+4(2a-b)].
Friendships and comfort zones can form and shift quite quickly. Everyone being new together shifted in a ten-minute transitory period to 3 of us rookies being surrounded by 11 veteran volunteers, coming to live in their house and join their project. Three are living this week, which creates an atmosphere of reflective farewells. It’s an odd sensation to be thrown into the challenges and critiques as well as the positive energy about the kids that these seasoned volunteers have developed over 2 or 4 or 8 weeks. I know the house will shift, amoeba-like, to welcome us.
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