So, it’s been a while since I actually
updated you all on how things are going here. The last time I actually talked
about work-related things, they were less than perfect, but on the mend. Well,
things still aren't perfect, but they are certainly better than what they were.
The last week has been filled with
multiple in-school workshops about pollution, plastic waste and club formation.
These have been interesting, as I am becoming far more comfortable in the role
of facilitator/presenter, and seeing the difference from school to school has
piqued the interest of my inner-researcher. So far (as we still have several
more of these workshops to complete), I have noticed mostly that afternoon
sessions involve more yelling from us and less focus from students. To any former
teachers/professors that may be reading this that had me during an afternoon
class where I was unfocused and failed to participate (even to the extent of
showing signs of life) – I am sorry. A new appreciation has been gained.
On Thursday we traveled to Asamankese
to support our partner there in the HIV/AIDS testing and counselling event.
This was … well, I’m not sure what the word is. It was held at a P-9 school,
and I had to give a talk about STIs without any preparation. This uneasiness
was amplified as I assisted in the condom demonstration, by holding a wooden penis
that was so detailed it was almost disturbing,
whilst a crowd of 6 or 7 year-olds sat to my right, just wanting nothing more
than to listen to the white people talk. And yes, David, since I know you’re
thinking it, my face reached multiple shades of red…
On Saturday we visited a cocoa farm. It
was really neat to see how it is grown, fermented, and then dried. The fruit
surrounding the beans was delicious and tasted slightly like mango. We were
even able to try a few of the beans, which tasted like a bitter, dark
chocolate. Also, fun fact: the husks and rotting beans are what are used to
make soap, lotions and other beauty products!
Afterwards, I
met with a few fine gents to discuss a project we are working on outside of my
volunteer obligations. I’m not going to share any details on this, as nothing
has been made official yet, and I want to make sure that things are in place
before I let you all in on this. But, I’m kind of excited about this side
project!
Today (Sunday), I attended the church of
my program coordinator. This one was of the Presbyterian variety, and I’d like
to entitle the following paragraph as “Why I Could Never Be a Church-Goer:
Round 4.” I’m not looking to have a religious debate here, but the church that
I went to when I was a small child was quiet and reserved; peaceful even. While
this particular church was not the experience I had in my first week here, it
certainly wasn't the calm, relaxing one I was hoping for. Listen, to be fair to
William, he told me there would be music and dancing. But, when I think of
dancing during a church service, I think swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the music. What I don’t
think of is pelvic thrusts and booty pops. To make matters worse (?) the music
reminded me of a cheesy 1980s game show, with the dance moves of Soul Train! It
was weird. There was also a lot of touching throughout the service. Shake hands here, hold hands there, hug everyone, and now get out! I know it meant a lot to
sir Billiam that we all went, as it did when I went to the other two churches
of people I know, but I just don’t get it. In particular, I don’t get the
over-emphasized plea for money! At one point, the minister/pastor/whatever
interrupted the session we were in, with “okay now, let’s talk about money!”
Weird. Weird. Weird.
But, that wasn't even the weirdest part
of the day. Jenna (a fellow volunteer) and I went for lunch. This
marks maybe the 5th or 6th lunch I've had since arriving
2 months ago (that’s right – I arrive in Halifax one month today!). We ate at a
place we went to one of the first days we were in Koforidua. I went with the
intention of having my favourite local dish called Red Red (because half of the
plate consists of something that is red, and so does the other half), but I saw
a club sammie on the menu and thought - I must eat this. So, I ordered it. Now,
I know what you’re thinking – how could this simple thing possibly go wrong?
Well, I’ll tell you. It came out on a plate. One piece of bread cut into four.
In the middle was a hay-stack of cabbage, onion, carrot, chicken, backed beans,
ketchup, mayo, and a boiled egg. Weirdest combination ever, and yet, it was
pretty good. I mean, the boiled egg alone was enough to make it a win. The
ketchup thrown in there on the other hand was… not something I would ever
desire to do again! But, what can you do. I happily ate it and enjoyed the
visit with Jenna!
Well kids, it’s now time to transition
into the next and final tale to tell. It’s about that time I was slated for
deportation. To be fair, this would have been (and still kind of will be should
it happen this coming weekend) welcomed. After some miscommunication from a
particular colleague, our applications could not properly be processed, due to
a missing letter I had requested several days prior. And Emily. Threw. A flipper.
That’s right, folks. At 29, I pretty much threw a temper tantrum – the result
of being over-tired, suffering with the usual consequences of straying from my
allergy-friendly diet, and an overwhelming bout of missing my Mom and therefore
grieving. Tomorrow I will attempt (for the third time) to get my Visa extended,
and if not, I’ll see ya’ll next week! But to leave you on a positive note, I
channeled my anger/upset into the first run I have completed in over a year.
Okay…so by run I mean, I ran maybe a kilometer with three walk breaks and then
walked the rest of the way home, only to wake up the next day with a knee so
sore I was instantly reminded why running with good shoes is so important!
So, that’s all for me! I’ll try to write
again soon…unless I’m get sent home, in which I’ll be visiting you all soon!
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