Friday, October 10, 2008

Another week passes like lightening
I am really starting to fall in love with this city

Umm I got into buffalo. This news is always preceded by an ummm because
I don't even know how I feel about it all. On one hand I really want to go, and I feel
like I am so lucky to really love the school I am going to. On the other hand,
I am still addicted to this wonderful free feeling that comes from not having real
obligations. There is so much I still want to do, and I can't imagine leaving
this wonderful city for freezing, nothing buffalo.

Well, new plan. Get a job at school, save up for six months so I can travel in the summer!

Thursday, October 2, 2008

I am not good at being my own mother.
I am sick as a dog, sitting in a room that is far too messy with no clean underwear.
I am not good at being my own mother.

The past few days have been really interesting;
Well, Saturday during the day I decided to bring my guitar to
the park and spend the day lounging. I ended up meeting three really cute,
nice, Porteno boys that reminded me a lot of my friends back home.
We spent the afternoon relaxing in the park, playing music and chatting.
At night the Palermo park became this amazing hippie haven! All around
were circles of young kids playing music, smoking cigarettes, and drinking mate.

Umm Sunday was rainy, so me, Brittany, Juan Fernando, and Victor stayed inside and drank 4 peso
wine and watched movies. It was kind of amazing.

Monday I fell ill and discovered...I am not good at being my own mother!

Tuesday Brittany convinced me to go to drum and base night at Bareihn with the group. BAD IDEA. I got really tired and remembered I hate drum and base music

Wednesday I was feeling better to I went to Salsa lessons, and somehow got dragged into going to the after-office club EL MUSEO. Well, amazing club, amazing music, great night--bad idea. The whole crowd was there and we got in for free and the music was really cheesy and fun. Then at 3AM Brittany and I decided our night wasn't finished. I was in the mood for some latin dancing and managed to convince Brit and some banker type she had met to head over to Maluca Beleza again (Brazilian Club from Sat). Brit hung out with the weird New York Banker and I proceeded to dance alone, which is not possible in BA. First, I got sandwiched between two guys, and let me tell you when a porteno asks for a "beso" he does not mean on the cheek! Then this big muscular Brazilian guy asked me to dance and I realized he was like 40 and proceeded to vomit in my mouth. Finally, I found a worthy dance partner of normal age and had a blast. I maintain that Maluco is my favorite Boliche thusfar. Got home at 6:30 AM again.

Woke up to my throat screaming at me for not staying in.
As of now I am trying to figure out what to think of romantic text messages from the men here.
Am I romantically jaded from too many years of Sex In the City, or are Latin men just weird.
Until next time!

Monday, September 29, 2008

Another night, another adventure. Last night was finally the amazing Latin American experience I needed. I have been clubbing and sipping coffee and practically forgetting I am not in Europe. Well last night Luis, Revy, and I didn’t have set plans, and we kind of just decided to try something different and go to this kind of Brazlian club that is really well-known in the city. It was really spur-of-the-moment, and after much confusion we all made it there. Oh MY GOD. This place was so wild! There were people on the stage dancing this Brazlilian dance which was like nothing I had ever seen before. Upstairs was more music, and more of a salsa kind of environment. The whole thing was so fun and different I absolutely think I will start to skip these lame techno clubs. I also met the first Porteno boy I could actually stand. Normally I find the Argentinian men aggressive to the point that it feels staged, and completely cancels out their good looks. Well this boy, I won’t use his name, was really polite, and asked me to dance rather than just putting his hands on me and seeing if I push him away. I told him I didn’t really know how to dance to this kind of music and he proceeded to spend the entire night teaching me. He didn’t try anything, he didn’t get too close, and was just a gentleman. The whole experience was something out of a novel, or I guess in this case a blog that seems to be becoming a novel.
Everyday I love this city more and more. The past few days have been really crazy and fun, and I really can’t seem to stop myself from going out every single night. The drag club was ridiculous and so much fun. I didn’t know what to expect really, but the crowd there turned out to be really cool and attractive, and the drag queens were captivating! Brittni and I hung out with the British boys in this awesome bar called Carnal for a few hours before hand, then ended up staying in Club 69 until 6:30. The next night we all went out for Argentinian steak at this amazing restaurant. The steak was freaking amazing, but I swear they gave me an entire cow, of which I ate like an 8th. I do not understand how portion sizes here can be so big and the people so beautiful. Then
we went to this other place called Kika which was fun although not particularly noteworthy. It was very techno-ish and there were bubbles everywhere, which would have been fun if one didn’t find its way to my eye. Walking home had to be the highlight of the night. Britni and I passed this hotdog place, and she decided she wanted a hotdog. We ended up talking to these girls and this crazy guy, and we all took pictures together and chatted in Spanish. Again we finished around 6:30 AM, and the walk home gets stranger every night. This night there were people sitting in cafes, and children were playing outside. I do not know how people stay out like this everynight! I guess the best explanation is that of my Spanish teacher: “Vamos dormir cuando estamos muertos” -- we will sleep plenty when we are dead!
Things are still wild here and great. I love my Spanish classes. They are so useful and hands on, its great! I have been going out to all these amazing clubs and bars every night with my new friends. Its really fun, but I’m kind of worn out, and tonight is my night in!
Today I met my first Argentinian friend in the internet café. It went something like this

Cydney’s brain: I really like his outfit, and eyebrow and tounge and lip piercing, hmmm how can I talk to him…
“tengo un lapiz? I mean tienes un lapis ahhh”
“you want a pencil”
“si”
“ok” gets me a pencil
“ los siento estoy nervioso cuando hablo con portenos”
He laughs, and I am not nervous and my Spanish gets better.

His name is Sebastian and he is completely adorable. He dresses like the kids on Saint Marks Place and works in a punk clothing store. He is 21 and likes techno and psycadelic music, and knows all the clubs, including Barein, where I went last night. I am 80% sure he is a homosexual or else a super effeminate. He might go to the trance music festival to see infected mushroom with me. Anyway, the whole thing put me in a great mood! Haha wait until the entry tomorrow night, when I go to my first drag club! Aye Dios Mio!
The story so far

I can’t even believe I’m here in this wonderful city and having so much fun. Things have been so hectic and wild but amazing, I can’t wait to get all my feelings out.
I landed in Buenos Aires at 8AM, and hopped into a taxi to my new apartment. On the way I had a long conversation in Spanish with the taxi driver, who spoke no English. It is still so strange to me that anyone can really speak no English. I mean, whenever immigrants come to the US, they usually know a little, and even in Ghana most people knew some. It has actually hit me now though—I am in South America! There are no English-speaking countries around Argentina, so why learn English? If anything it makes more sense to speak Portageuse, or French. Anyway, back to Business. I arrived at my new apartment very early in the morning, and was greeted by the owner of the house, Liliana, who is 52. Liliana speaks no English, and despite being my mother’s age, pretty much ignores me, despite the occasional “hola!” I don’t mind though. I came to get away from my mother remember?

The house is beautiful, and is in Palermo, which is equally beautiful. It’s so hard to explain how cool this house is, because most apartments are…well apartments. This looks like an apartment on the outside and is smack dab in the middle of the city but inside is this huge house with high ceilings and wood paneled floors. There is even a patio and pool, which will be amazing come summer. My room is pretty tiny, and there is so little closet space I am trying my best to get creative. Oh yea, there is a painting of a vagina on my wall. The bathroom is really small, and the shower is over the toilet so I have to wear sandals every time I go in. Besides that stuff though I am very happy with my new residence.

After resting for a few hours, I went to explore my new Barrio. Palermo is basically the east village. There are amazing shops and tons of cafes and bars near where I live. The prices are really low as well. I did some food shopping and bought a cell phone. I purchased a bottle of wine at the supermarket, just because I can! Then I came back home where I got to meet Victor, one of my roommates. Victor is 24, from Bogota, Columbia and really nice. He is studying Marketing at La Unversidad de Belgrano. My Spanish is better than his English, so we mostly speak in Spanish, but it is nice if I can’t think of certain words that he isn’t totally clueless.

Then I went to the Spanish School for my orientation, where I met a bunch of kids. Everyone there is like 21-25. I am so embaressed by how young I am, I tell people I am 20! Besides that though, everyone is so open-minded and well traveled, I feel so fortunate to be with such an interesting group of people. At orientation I learned how to use the Subte (or subway), spot fake money, and drank my first Mate. Mate is this herbal tea that is kind of a social thing in Argentina. Personally, I really like it, but I need to put a packet of sugar in. I also met my other roommate, Brittany, from San Francisco, these two adorable British boys, a girl from Israel, and two girls from England

We all decided to go out, and despite being a little worn out, I was so excited so be in such a cool city. At 11 we headed to a bar, where I was admitted without question! I ordered this strange blue drink called Sexy Martini. It tasted vile, but the company was excellent. We talked for hours about all the great places we had traveled to, different stereotypes, and just the world in general. Then we all went back to my house and relaxed on the patio. Victor came and we all tried out my new Nargila, which was excellent. I decided to name it Victor Andres Molena after my new roommate! At 4 AM I hit the sack!

Today I went to school and had my first class. The school is excellent and I can tell my Spanish is going to improve by miles being here, although I must say, it already has.
After a food shopping, and dinner, I came home, flopped on my bed, and began to write this entry. Things are still very new and fun, and soon enough I will be used to it all. Something about Buenos Aires is different though, It is the same feeling I had when I went to Buffalo. It is the amazing independene I have always wanted, wrapped around the comfort that I can find family anywhere in the world.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Well fashion week past and it sucked as usual. I did get to see a lot of great people, and have experiences most people never get. I also go to practice my Espanol with the Argentinian models along with everyone else! All of that stuff is what I love about fashion week, not my job. This job has officially lost its fabulousness, and fun. I don't care about the money, I will not work for them again. T

In other news, the application is officially in at Buffalo. I am really really excited! I should hear in less than a month.

Besides that I am just super super excited for the amazing adventure ahead of me and I promise I will keep everyone updated!

Friday, September 5, 2008

I worked for 14 hours today on 1 our of sleep
The morning was kind of hell and I flipped out on this male model for being an asshole
Perry Ellis was really nice. I love men's shows for obvious reasons, but also because the men take themselves less seriously. I say men, but they are 18-22 years old, and pretty nice. I would be lying if I said I didn't add any numbers to my contact list. Fashion week actually reminds me of some strange summer camp or something. Ahh I am too tired to blog!
I couldn't sleep all night
Fashion Week is here and now I'm excited again
or nervous
or I don't know!
I am excited to see...
Patrick McDonald
JD Ferg

Edythe Hughes, rachel clarke, amber milam, marina perez-- my girls!

problem is I will be a wreck tomorrow
coffee coffee coffee!

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

3 Days To Fashion Week

And the time has come. I am home from Buffalo after a 12 hour journey
and laying out my clothes for fashion week. I am feeling so strange right now. I used to LIVE for fashion week. I mean, I still love seeing the runway shows, but I am so good at my freaking job, that I always have to stay backstage. This means wrestling with middle-aged photographers for footage, watching skeletal models undress, and eating mass amounts of catered food. I like seeing my model friends, but I constantly have to annoy them with stupid interview questions for that stupid TV channel. I liked the networking aspect of it, but the problem is that I am too good. I am 17 years old and I have a roladex(who actually uses those!) full of connections in the industry, but I do not have the time or desire to start working. I am too young to grow up and get a job and stop learning. Basically, this is my only way to see the shows, and until I at least become old enough to drink, no one in their right mind will hire me, no matter how fabulous my resume. So yea, for once, I am not excited for fashion week. I was so happy at Buffalo being a kid in this fun, happy, college world, and now I am back to my adult persona, working way too hard for way to little. Hello real life!

....'

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

I sat in on my two classes today
sociology 101 and metaphysics
Sociology was really good for a basic course
the teacher was funny and it was pretty interesting.
Metaphysics blew my mind! I have never listened so
closely to a teacher before in my life. We talked about
Theseus's ship, and I learned that "identidy is flexible
and transient." I met with an admissions officer. I am applying
early for the spring.

Tonight, my friends and I laid under the trees and cuddled
and drew rainbows on the concrete. It was sweet and they
are sweet and life is sweet...
Life is so strange, or better put: I am so strange.
I decided to visit SUNY Buffalo because my good friend goes there
and because my brain was turning to mush from too much internet.
I got here, and from the moment I arrived, there wasn't a second that
I stopped smiling. I love it here. All of a sudden, all I want to do is be a student
here with millions of people and meet someone new everyday. I just want to
learn about whatever I choose and see my friends and take a nap by a lake
once in awhile. I know I drawl on and on about how I love NYC, and all of
that is so true, but there is something here telling me that this place feels right.
While I love my broadway and my runway shows and my concerts, there is something
else here, that is not there. I love it here, and I also feel loved here.
So yell at me, because I am a hypocrite and I change my mind far too much
and I am so so so strange. I will hear what you say, consider your opinion, but
I will always listen closest to my heart

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Home

I'm home and I must say I am experiencing a strange period in my life.
I have been soaking up the luxuries of home, yet I am left unsatisified, because I suffer from an addiction
Some people are addicted to alcohol, caffeine, but my problem is slightly different. I have become addicted to adventure. I love seeing new places, doing new things, meeting new people, and learning, and the amazing thing about traveling is that you end up doing all these things every single day. Every walk brings new territory, every friend is a new one. Now I am in the town I have spent my whole life, in the house I have spent my whole life, and while I am happy, I am restless. I just want to grab my backpack and hop on a train to wherever, but I am stuck. My other problem is that all my friends are leaving for college, and I feel really excluded. Every "welcome back" dinner is also a goodbye dinner, which is yea, pretty depressing.

Don't get me wrong though, this time is definitely not wasted, because I haven't forgotten my first post. The one thing that keeps everyday an adventure is keeping so close to the city I love. I have never been so sure that New York is the place for me. While I crave change, New York is a place that manages to change on its own, every single day. It is a place that you don't have to leave to have an adventure, and in fact new experiences are rather unavoidable. Since I came home I started going to the Rocky Horror Picture show which is just wild, and I am even considering trying to join the cast when I return! I went to a full moon party and danced to tribal drums (of course it wasn't my first time). I discovered this amazing Latin music (Bajofondo, Lula Cruza, Rakim y Ken-y). I traded stories with travelers from India and Tanzania. I cried and screamed and laughed. Of course, I keep smiling, because I just have so much to smile about.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Well I am on my way out
i should be sad but i'm not
i am always sad leaving somewhere amazing
when i know life will flip back to normal
but I am still in adventure mode
fashion week starts september 5th
buenos aires is september 22
there will be no flipping anytime soon
hello goodbye hello goodbye
--cydney

Monday, August 4, 2008

Damn.

Wow so much has happened, but I have no energy to blog about it in the usual detail
Mole and Larabanga were really fun. Not so much because I saw elephants and these really fly mosques but mostly because I made so many nice friends on the way. There was this really nice couple from the UK and this Philippino guy who I later found out was 35, and these really sweet British girls... Somehow traveling makes it really easy to bond with people, and I had such a nice time just chilling in the pool and watching warthogs and elephants with my new companions. It was also really funny because Charlie and I ended up in a dormitory with a bunch of people we didn't know, including this crazy Ghanaian man who insisted on blasting music and smoking marijuana cigarettes while we were all trying to sleep. I felt like I was in summer camp again! After Mole, me, Charlie, Jenny and Alex stayed in mud huts in Larabanga, was definitely rustic, but worth the experience. After Larabanga me and Charlie headed to Wa. The bus ride there was horrid and I had to stand for 3 hours with this woman just pressing her sweaty forehead all over my arm...yum

Wa is wayy to the west of the country and there are almost no tourists there. I did get to see a group of muslims pray, which was really cool, and I also learned about the facial scarring that characterizes the different tribes there. As far as I could tell everyone was really friendly there and not pushy at all. There is really nothing to do in Wa so the two of us spent our time at the hippo sanctuary. The trotro ride there was nice as it was basically the back of a pickup truck. While the open air was nice and the ride was beautiful, I arrived in Wechiau with a handful of dirt in my hair, on my clothes and up my nose. We slept at some guy's house on a mattress, and I woke up at 4:30 in the morning because these flies had bit my leg and my entire body was burning. Yea, it was really pleasant.

The sanctuary was nice though. We rode our bikes the the black volta in the morning, then took a canoe ride to look for hippos. Then we went back to Wa and decided to take a tro to TUMU. This is where the trouble began. The tro tro broke down and we were waiting on the side of the rode listening to frantic Ghanaians for 3 hours. I was sure we were going to have to spend the night in that crappy van. Finally, he came and we were off on the worst rode I have ever been on. The tire punctured twice more and we had to keep stopping and I had no room to breathe because I was in between to fat women. 10 hours later, one of those fat women let us crash at her house, because it was 2 AM. She kindly woke up her topless sister in the middle of the night and the two of us crashed.

The next morning on the way to the bus, Charlie got sick. We took her to the hospital and she had to do an IV drip, so we spent another day in Tumu. I spent my time exploring the little village and eating while Charlie napped. The boy I bought a newspaper from even dropped by and brought her a get well card. Tumu was ok, just a bit on the empty side. Now I'm in Bolga and tired because I spent the night curled in a ball at the foot of Charlie's hospital bed.
Fun Fun Fun

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Hot Tamale

Ok I am in Tamale.
So me and Charlie woke up a exactly 4:30 AM, for once before anyone in my house was up, and hitched a trotro to kumasi, where we then hopped on a bus to Techiman. The ride took about 2 hours, and was very uncomfortable. Techiman was pretty much nothing. The two of us enjoyed a soda and relaxed for a bit because we knew the journey to Tamale would be loooong. Well, it seems God smiled on us and the journet from Techiman to Tamale actually took three hours instead of five...halleluyah! Tamale was very different. Wow. The population is like 80% muslim and everyone ride bikes and motorcycles. I also don't get as much attention as in Kumasim, and when children call out to me, they don't say Obruni..only "hello!" which is much sweeter. Charlie and I walked around the market and dined on cut up mango and fufu. On a side note, I love fufu! Seriously, 1 cedi and you are stuffed. Now, I can't say my stomach likes it as much, but I get sick no mastter what I eat anyway. Ok so back to Tamale...The market was not as busy as the central market in Kumasi, but it was full of cow carcasses. Now I am no animal rights advocate, but to see the head, ribs and stomach of a cow being chopped up right in front of you, cow juice flying everywhere...yea it was gross. Besides that I like Tamale. It is friendly, peaceful, and just much different from the rest of the country. Now I am waiting for a bus to Larabanga to see the mud and stick mosques, and of course, I plan to go elephant watching at Mole!

Monday, July 28, 2008

<3

Well, ok, I have always had this knack for meeting and making new friends, but I really had no idea how good I was. I don’t know if its my personality or luck but somehow things have just been working out nicely here. I was a little bit bummed because Erika, Leslie, and Tracey all left, and I kind of got in a argument with Meredith so I felt really lonely. Also teaching ends today for exams so I was just really confused. Should I get a new placement? Really I wanted to travel, but all my friends were gone so I was just very confused and bored and I missed home.

Well, yesterday I went to town with hopes I could find one internet cafĂ©. It was Sunday, which means nothing, nothing, nothing, is open, but I needed to get out of the house. In my search I saw two white girls walking and I ran to them to ask if they had seen one. Their names were Esther and Christina, both from Canada, volunteering at a hospital in a suburb of Kumasi. They invited me to go to this hotel and get drinks, so I thought for a second, and decided I had nothing better to do. We went to this really nice hotel with a pool called the Micklin. It was actually the closest thing I have seen to a real, American hotel in awhile. We chatted, and they were really very nice, and it wasjust nice to make new friends on such an ordinarily boring Sunday. From the hotel we tried walking back to town and we ended up walking in the wrong direction. Then, God’s light shined on us and two Asian men in a jeep offered us a ride. Normally, I don’t get in cars with strangers, I swear. But the jeep was air conditioned, and they were the only two Asian men in Ghana so at least if the police had to hunt them down, they wouldn’t have much trouble. We got to town and were walking to a restaurant, when I saw a group of white people looking confused. Naturally, Kumasi is a confusing place, but I am very used to it now, so I ran over and asked if they needed help. Turns out they did! I took them to Sambra hotel where we were all going to eat, and they went to a drinking spot nearby. They were a group of foreigners who were doing study abroad at University of Kumasi--mostly in their twenties, although the one American girl was 19. As I was saying goodbye to Esther and Christina, I saw the group again. They were really friendly invited me to go to this bar which was very lively because the football game had just ended. I again thought for a moment and again realized it was Sunday and I had nothing better to do. I definitely made the right choice. The bar was POPPIN and everyone was dancing and just having a great time. I met new friends, and actually got to dance without having some random black guy trying to grind up on me. I also impressed everyone by getting fufu for dinner…mmmmm.

Today I am waiting for this girl Char to come that I met through TravBuddy.com. She is only 16! And she is in the same situation as me, where she has no one to travel with and has just finished teaching sooo yea. I hope she is nice because we are planning to spend the whole week doing the North and then the Volta region.

A few days ago, when I told my Dad that teaching had ended he offered to push my flight forward. I declined, but seriously considered the thought. Suddenly, I am so glad I didn’t. Once again my sense of adventure, of possibility, has returned, and I hope Char is up for budget hotels and $1 dinners!

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Seriously,
I admit, men are complicated, and men and women are different. Here in Ghana, I would kill to be “confused” by a man’s behavior, because confused implies one day I could understand. Let me tell you, I will never never never understand Ghanaian men. They are like different creature with habits and quirks I will never understand. I have created something of a field journal while observing their behavior.

#1) They tell you they like you. Tell you they love you. Tell you they want to marry you. And then, they ask your name
#2) They do not really care what you look like, only that you are white, which means you are a nice person and will make a nice wife.
#3) They ALL have huge muscles and great bodies. Even the children have muscles!
#4) Everyone must marry and have children, that is the purpose of a wife
#5) Any woman they date, they intend to marry
#6) All of that being said, they will not hesitate to touch you while dancing or sitting in a taxi, or really any uncomfortable situation.

So Ladies, if you are tired of casual dating and would like to find an attractive, eligible black man who is built like Vin Diesel… book your ticket to Ghana!
Well, this past weekend I ventured off to Kofuridia with Leslie and Erika. Kofiridua was a pretty uneventful place, and after a four hour bus ride, we were forced by the rain to hang out there until we could get a trotro to Boti Falls. Boti however, was gorgeous. The two falls were bigger than anything I had ever seen and the water was cold and delicious. After taking a swim in the falls we prepared a dinner of white bread (there is no other kind here) , mango, and biscuits—everything topped off of course with a Star beer and for me a Gordon’s Sparks. It was at Boti that it hit me how cheap Ghana is—we paid $5 for three people to stay in a hotel room. Sure it was a little gross and dirty, but $5! After it got dark and we were tired of talking to the park rangers we went off to our $5 room, lit a lantern, and dozed off. The next morning we had breakfast for $1.50 and took a hike around the park. I thought I was going to die, I am so out of shape, and we were practically rock climbing. Not to mention if I did fall, our guide reeked of booze and probably wouldn’t have been any good. Anyway, somehow I made it and the scenery was nice. Erika and I took another swim and met some totally awesome Israelis at the falls! I was so happy that I wasn’t the only Jew in Ghana. They were here for two years working for, you guessed it, a cell phone company. It was just a really nice little slice of the rest of the world. After the falls we checked out and when back to Kofiridua to head home. The most eventful thing that happened this weekend was on the busride home. The bus pulls up at 1:45 and me and my friends get on. We wait an hour and a half. The bus still doesn’t leave. We ask when it leaves and 3 people tell us 4:00. So at 3:15 Erika and I take a walk. We get back at 3:45 and the entire bus starts yelling at us in Twi. It was a seriously frightening sight. Old, fat women in their church clothes pointing their fingers at us and saying God knows what! We sat in silence on the way home.

My host family has been hosting 10 Dutch volunteers for the week, and it has been nice getting to know some new kids. I even got to meet some Belgians which is cool because I am Belgian and know like nothing about my heritage. I also had the chance to visit the Adinkra village of Ntonso and the Kente village of Bonwire. Both were definitely worth the trip, although I get a lot more attention traveling alone. The trip to Bonwire was especially frustrating. No one could tell me where to catch the Trotro, yet they still insisted on pointing me in some false direction. I wandered around for 2 hours in Kejetia and was about to blow $8 on a taxi until an older man said he would lead me there. I was so rude and told him right away that I would not buy anything. Then I started crying. I am such a bitch. The nice older man walked me to the trotro and told me where to go to, and told the driver where to make sure I got off. Then, he offered to come himself. The whole time I am still crying and being a bitch. If you think a white girl attracts attention, imagine a one crying her eyes out and being a bitch. Both villages were only enjoyable for me because I like clothes so much that I love to see anyone design any kind of garment.

Oh yea, that’s another thing I am really beginning to notice. I am really very obsessed with clothes, and dressmakers here have actually finally given me the chance to design my own garment. While I have mostly made simple pencil skirts and tube tops, I feel so much more proud of these garments. They are mine! Who knows? Maybe I have been wrong to ignore design as a career option all these years

As far as culinary news goes, I have finally acquired a taste for Fufu! Now, I can’t get enough of it. Fufu is basically a big squishy bowl of gummy, mashed, Cassava. It is the cheapest dish to make in Ghana and once you get used to it is really tasty.

As of today though, I am strictly eating tea and biscuits because my stomach woke me up in a rage this morning, so I have been watching Bollywood movies on my laptop all day.
Oh well
I’m in Africa
life is good.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Coasting the Cape.

Ok so this past weekend I took a trip to Cape Coast

I started out leaving wayy too late and being squished into a trotro next to a fat lady. Great way to begin a journey. Two hours in I was covered in sweat and we stopped for what was called a Urination Break. A woman stepped out of the car, and literally squatted and pissed on the street. No one blinked. The last two and a half hours of the journey were bumpy, because the roads were dirt, but whatever, I managed.

I arrived in Cape Coast and instantly noticed more white people, because it is a major tourist area. People were also even more aggressive to get the attention of four white girls (actually one was mixed, but she may as well be white here). The four of us dined at Oasis hotel, which was overpriced but clean and right on the beach. I enjoyed my new favorite Ghanian drink, Gordon's Spark and tried to ignore the adorable stray puppies I couldn't touch, and the Ghanian children on the beach asking me to buy them things. After a short break we all had to journey to Kakum National Park. Kakum is a rainforest and we had heard that camping there is a fantastic experience. We hopped into a cab, and learned the drivers name was Cornelius. I tried for the first 20 minutes of the ride to get Cornelius to play "give Me Blow" but apparently I don't speak Ghanian enough and nothing was getting through. It was dark when we arrived at Kakum and there was one man awake in the park at the time. He came to the taxi and we tried to get him to tell us where the tree platforms where, but he was not getting it.
"We have a nice place for you, we have just mowed the grass and there is a mosquito net"
" No, we want to camp in the platforms"
" There is a net it is nice"
Then Leslie and Erika get out to look for a key and me and Tracey are left with Cornelius, whom we refused to let leave because the other one there understood nothing. All I could do was offer him cookies, or biscuits as the call them here
Outside I heard Leslie screaming, "where is reception?"
"It is here"
"No, this is a rock!"

Finally the man said, "we must go to the man with the key"
So Cornelius drove us into this village and we were led into this sketchy backstreet and into someones house. The man rang the door bell and out came the Key Man, without pants. "are you the man with the key?" We said
"yes" he said, in perfect english. Salvation!

He led us back to Kakum and told us the platforms were closed, but took us to these really cool beds in the rain forest with a wonderful, impenetrable, mosquito net. After quick rinse-and-spit, we fell asleep to the noise of hundreds of bugs, monkeys, and God knows what else.

The next morning we awoke at 5:30, absolutely filthy, and met the tour guide for the canopy walk. I have to admit it was really beautiful, but not nearly as scary as I though it would be. Tracey was bugging out, and then she told me she had skydived, and I was like "how can you be scared of this then?" and she said, "well, there is no parachute."

Our next stop was the Dagoma rock shrine, so we trotroed to a nearby village to hop a taxi to the shrine. The only taxi was this truck that was falling in half and the seats were not properly screwed on to the bottom. We took a 20 minute ride through a village full of mud huts, or what I like to call "a tour of extreme poverty." The rock shrine was closed or not functioning or something so we rode back.

After a few more buses and trains and planes and whatnot, we ended up at the Elmina slave castle and took a formal tour. This was really very cool. They showed us the slave dungeons and where they took slaves to die. It is so creepy that a person could ever be sold like livestock, but it was done, and not really all that long ago. We all took lunch, and then shopped a bit in town. At night we went back to Oasis and watched traditional African drumming, which is one of the coolest things I have ever seen. Wow.

Sunday was only funny because a friend of mine discovered, suprisingly, that it was her time of the month. The two of us wandered the village looking for Tampax, which they do not sell in Cape Coast. Finally, I said "why don't you ask a white woman?"
Good move. She asked and that woman saved here life, and taught us all to always, always be prepared. I arrived home, showered and discovered that what I thought was a tan, was only dirt.
Oh well.

I decided to take the day to visit Ntonso, the Adinkra village. Adinkra is the Ashanti funeral clothing which is just gorgeous. It is this black and red dyed cloth with symbols stamped on that mean different things. I am hoping I can buy some and find a dressmaker that will make something other than a toga out of it, but I guess we will see.

Much love.
Cydney

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Sweaty and Happy...also called Swappy

Wow, I feel like my head is going to explode
Ok.
so.
Kumasi.
the central market.
my white skin.
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I have been spending every second of my free time fabric shopping because I was so pleased with my $2 patterned pencil skirt made by the dressmaker, I decided I want at least 5 more. I also want two vest and some pillowcases and well, you get the picture... So today I was looking for something specific so I decided to venture into Ketejia in the central market. The central market is the second biggest market in West Africa, but I would pay to see one that is bigger. Seriously, this place is like a country! I confidently dove in and after looking for about an hour, finally found the fabric section. Then I looked in what must have been a million places for a print I had seen, only to be left empty-handed. I decided to buy instead 3 yards of a kente style fabric just so the trip would not be a total waste. If this was a shopping mall, well, this would be perfectly normal for me. I often browse for an entire day and never make a purchase. Central Market is different though, the difference is what I like to call: the hassle factor. Every single person in every single store insists on calling me: "Obruni!" "Hey Come here" "blah blah" "white lady!." They all want to help me. Be my friend. Or as is best put, take my money. Well, at first in was funny, and I would smile and be cute and say no, but three hours of it in a hot crowded market is not exactly the easiest environment in which to be amiable. So anyone going to Ghana...avoid the market unless you absolutely have to go, there are like a billion fabric stores where you can browse to your hearts content. Lesson learned.

In other news, things are lovely in my new host family. I love having an 18, 20, and 21 year old to listen to music and swap pictures with. I now have the best of hip-life on my phone and practically have the words to African Girlz and Give Me Blow memorized. I have also gotten pretty awesome at handwashing clothes, and did it for 2 hours today, while also removing any skin left on my hands. I am starting to realize how little time I have left here, and am concentrating on experiencing as much as I can. I want to learn Twe, see all of the sights around Kumasi, learn to cook Ghanian food, and generally, as I said in my first entry, forget goals and enjoy the scenery.

On that note, I leave for a four day trip with Meredith, Tracey, Leslie, and Erika to Cape Coast. I am so excited to walk in the rainforest canopy and see Nzulezo, the stilt village. Before that,I fully intend on taking an ice cold shower and settling in on my mosquito-net free bed.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Change is ah-coming

Well, things have certainly changed quite a bit. When I arrived back at the orphnanage on Sunday, I soon became miserable. Truly, I didn't mind showering with the bucket or sweating under my net at night. What was bothering me was the children. I was not originally supposed to live in the orphanage, but they placed me there anyway. Most volunteers live with a family and work at the orphanage 8-5 and then go home. But me, I was working 24/7 and I never had anywhere to get away. I started flipping out because the children would knock on my door when I was relaxing, and really I never had any peace. So, as much as I loved the children I was starting to resent them, and I called and changed locations.

After causing quite a scene at the office, I ended up in a ridiculously nice place. I live in a gated community in a nice house, with soooo many people and sooo many rooms. The head of the household in actually a Queen in the Volta Region. There is a shower and fridge and a fan in my room. THere are also screens on the windows so I needn't worry about the malaria situation. They also feed me very well, too well, my appetite has quickly returned.

I have started teaching as my new job.I teach english to 10-13 year olds. They call me Madame Cydney. I am trying my best to be a good teacher, although the schools here, like everything else lacks organization. No one gives me a syllabus, and they tell me what I am teaching literally 2 minutes before they want me to teach. It is like a big gumball machine everyday and I never know what colors will pop out.

I remember I knew that this trip would change me, and it has, but not in the ways I expected. I have become way more independent than I ever thought. So much so, that I have decided not to go to Argentina through a prepaid program. I will travel the old fashion way, and find a place to live and take courses once I am there. Travel is getting so addicting, especially here where you can travel to the other end of a country for all of $3. There are so many places I am dying to go now: India, Ecuador, Ireland, and I don't even know where to start.
So ummm
Thank you Mom and Dad for not letting me waste away this summer.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

When in Kumasi....

Wow! Life is amazing, and Ghana is super-amazing.
I am in Kumasi right now having more fun than I can remember having in ages.
It all started with a trotro, or tiny bus similar to the ones the Mexicans drive, but more crammed. The trotro droppped me and Meredith off in the city center of Kumasi with two enormous backpacks weighing us down and foreheads full of sweat(yum). We began to treck the streets looking for the hotel that another German volunteer had reccomended. I knew right away I had left the village. Kumasi is incredibly crowded and full of traffic and I love it. You must constantly have your eyes open here, or you WILL get hit by a car. The whole you-hit-me-I-sue-you-thing hasn't really caught on, and no one wears seatbelts. Yay for safety! Anyway besides being crowded Kumasi is just awesome because it is both modern and traditional. Men walk wearing business suits next to people in traditional african clothing. There is also this gigantic market which goes on for miles, and sells everything from underwear to snails. There is also always music playing, sometimes the local "hip-life music" and othertimes Sean Paul. We had walked for about 10 minutes when I decided to ask a man for directions. Suddenly another man interrupted and said, "I can take you there." He was umm African(?) and well dressed, and very poised and polite, and I soon found out his name was Paul. He took us to the hotel, which turned out to be full, but he insisted that he would not leave us until he found us a place to stay. In the meantime we had some great conversation. He was 26 and wrote for a local newspaper. He also worked part time for Global Youth Network, another organization. We ended up hitting it off, and he offered to take us shopping in the market a bit later, and being that we would be homeless without him, we agreed.

We had ended up splurging all of $20 for a room with AC, shower, toilet and a double bed and were truly in heaven. I'm sorry but the bucket just doesn't beat the gentle feel of running water trickling down your skin and toilets are much better indoors away from flies and chickens. After napping and showering we began the days adventures. First stop was his sisters store which made dresses. Me and Mer picked out a design and then waded through the market for fabrics. I picked a gorgeous blue fabric with white lines, Meredith a more African printed green. I would say the cost of buying the fabric and having a pencil skirt and halter top made was alogether $7, yes a bargain hunter's heaven.

After the dresses we decided to have drinks and food at a nearby place called Flava Lounge (Flavah Flave!..sorry). At this point it was me, Paul, his friend Emanuel, and Meredith. Of course, we both wore wedding rings, and had boyfriends, but the men were still so incredibly nice. We talked about so much, my favorite topic being weight. Here is Ghana, it is not an insult to be called fat, simply a fact, and many men love fat women. The models, actresses, and musicians are all pretty meaty, yet the men are all thin and very muscular. It was so strange to them that women could be unhappy being fat, and FYI, when I say fat I mean FAT, not "i have a belly" or "my hips are big"--no big ass big hips big everything--big is beautiful! I also learned that men are much less sexual and vulgar here. They will always try to take care of a woman and are very nervous when it comes to putting the moves. The ball is much more in the woman's court. Women are often the ones to initiate sexual behavior because the men don't want to be disrespectful. Ummm Wow. Wow. Yea. Wow.

Later, we went to a club and danced and heard music and it was a lot of fun. There is no drinking age, but I was having too much fun to even think about clouding my sense. Why would I want to cloud the memories I was having. After hearing some amazing music, we went back to the hotel and happily crashed.

We woke up tonight at around 9:30 and got some beakfast, then met Paul around 11:30 to go to lake Bosomtwe. The lake was like a big party, with kids everywhere dancing and swimming. Meredithand I bought these ugly bathing suit from women on blankets. It was a really fun day and the water was gorgeous and warm. Lots of people came to talk to us about where we were from, and everyone loved that we could speak a bit of Twe. We also sampled this delicious Ghanian wine and danced to Hip Life.

Tonight we went to Vic Baboo and got some Pizza, which has honestly never tasted so good. Tommorow, it is back to rice, rice, rice.

Tommorow is also the 6th Sunday of the month and there is a ceremony at the castle where the Ashanti Chief is.

until then I am a bold American Obruni Acossia and I love Ghana!!!

<3

Friday, June 27, 2008

Don't Try the Banku

I have been in Ghana for four days now, and things have definitely picked up. I finally started getting sick from the food, and I vomited up my Banku yesterday. If I could describe Banku, I might say a ball of salty play dough that you dip in seasoned oil. I also can never eat bananas again because yesterday at breakfast I saw a banana completely covered on the outside with ants and could only keep from throwing up because there was nothing in my stomach. It is not so bad though, because the heat makes you severely lose you appetite, and so do the handfuls of medication I take everyday. If anyone wants to effortlessly lose weight, come here!

The kids in the oprhanage are adorable but loaded with energy, which I am not. There is always a cute little African child clinging to one of my legs, and one begging me to hold it in my arms. I taught them some hand games recently, and the song "this little light of mine," which they love. I also gave them all my Barbie dolls which they have gone crazy for. One girl decided to braid all of their hair to make them more African.

I have been picking up small bits of Twe, which is a pretty awesome language. Here is Ghana everyone has a name according to the day we were born, so I was born on Sunday, and am called Acossia. Although, as far as names go, the one I hear most is definitely Obruni. I wish I could capture for you the strangness of being white in such a place. I walked down the streets and everyone looks at me, waves at me, calls out to me. Everyday I pass my a primary school and there are about 40 some odd children playing outside. As soon as one sees me and begins to call Obruni, the whole lot of them begin to jump and scream in a frenzy. They scream "how are you?" which is the only English they know, and this goes on everyday until I am completely out of sight.

It is definitely very safe here. I have not once felt the uneasiness I have felt next to a creepy guy on the subway, or a beggar. Everyone is just super friendly and relaxed. I learned that it is normal to be two hours late to everything, and no one follows schedules. Oh! There are also chicken everywhere. They often pick at the food we drop on the floor when cooking, and we often eat them the next night! And it isn't that hot here, and it rains nearly everyday.

Oh WoW, the craziest part--I will begin teaching high school science soon. my first lesson is Monday on Osmosis. The kids are really nice and eager to learn and nothing like the characters that find their way into Leonia. Plus they have no problem using a ruler if kids are bad. The regular science teacher is really nice and young as well. He wears this stylish 50's glasses and is a bit like an African version of Mr. Linares. After classes we all play scrabble, which is pretty much the extent of the nightlife here.

Anyway, right now I am on my way to spend the weekend in Kumasi with Meredith, and I am sooo excited to go fabric shopping, because here for only $2 you can get a dress made. I plan to come home clad in African designs and Kente cloth. Wish me luck! I will keep you posted!

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Obruni Girl

well
I am here
I am in Ghana
at an internet cafe that charges 70 cents an hour
The experience so far has been rocky, to say the least
but I am here to stay

I arrived in Accra after a slow ten hour flight
tired but extremely excited
I had already chatted for hours with the nice ghanian man
on the plane, and I was already starting to get a lot of attention
due to my err... color? I didn't mind though. That was one thing I
expected. I met one of the volunteer coordinators at the airport
and hopped on a taxi to the Accra bus station. Accra is often described
as being disgusting, but I honestly thought it looked like a lot of fun. The bus station had hundreds of vans called TroTros everywhere, none of which would stop for pedestrians. There were also tons of people carrying everything from loaves of bread to hard boiled eggs on their head hisses at all the people to get their attention. A few people called out to me, "Obruni!" which means white person (I am actually more like super-obruni), but it is more of a curiousity thing here though, rather than sexual or derogatory. i then took a four hour bus ride to Kumasi. The first 20 minutes a man rode with us and actually delivered an entire sermon, in both Twe and English. I would soon understand that Ghana is an insanely Christian country. Along the road I spotted 'God's Gift Hair salon', and 'Jesus Is Our Savior cellphone company.'

I arrived in Kumasi and made my way into the volunteer office where I met my fellow volunteer Meridith. She is 23 and we are pretty much already like sisters--(or Obruni sistahs!). I instantly liked Kumasi. It was crowded, loud, and hot, but I am a city girl. I didn't mind the men shouting at me or the cars driving 100 miles an hour. I loved that it was lively and busy and just full of life. Too bad I wasn't going to stay there.

I was supposed to stay in Kumasi, but things aren't really done here with much exactness. No one wears watches. Everyone waves hello to each other. It is really very nice and relaxed, except the part where no one has any organization or sense of commitment. They were about to ship Merdeith and I, 3 hours away to a small village, when I spoke up. Appaarently Kumasi was packed with volunteers, and they didn't need anyone. Then they decided to send us 30 minutes away to a village called--don't quote me on the spelling--Sechuway ( I called it Sechuan chicken in my head though.)

At this point I was optomistic. I hopped in yet another 3 dollar taxi and rode with Meredith to this village. We found ourselves on a dirt road passing acres of lush greenery. Finally, we stopped in front of a small wooden building. This was the oprhanage. I was instantly greeted by 6 or 7 tiny black children all hugging me. A boy who was missing an arm took my bag. There were chickens and cats running around, and some older children making a fire. No one was wearing shoes. I was shown my room with Meredith. It was a baed with a mosquito net and a closet. I was shown the bathroom, which was a small outhouse with no toilet paper. I realized there was no running water, instead I shower by pouring a bucket over my head, or as I like to call it: "getting my bucket on."

There were 17 children in the orphanage. Off the top of my head there is: Miracle, Augustine, Gladiss, Blessing, Floor, Atah-Kofee, Solomon, Abraham, Junior, and Soh-foo. 2 of them are missing limbs and I often confuse the boys and girls because everyone has the same haircut. There is another volunteer, Steve, who is leaving friday. "You will learn to live like Adam and eve," he said, "the simple life."

The entire time i was freaking out in my head. Trying to figure out how I had gotten into all this, and Meredith was just peachy as kids clung to us asking questions. I went to bed and cried.

I awoke at about 6:30 this morning when all the kids had gone to school. I at a breakfats of flavorless oats and bread (FYI. all they eat are carbs here) and felt a lot better. I walked around the village and some little babies started to cry because they had never seen a white person, which was as hilarious as it sounds.
I am tired, and I have many mosquito bites, but I think I am getting used to it here, and I think I may just be fine.

Obruni Girl

well
I am here
I am in Ghana
at an internet cafe that charges 70 cents an hour
The experience so far has been rocky, to say the least
but I am here to stay

I arrived in Accra after a slow ten hour flight
tired but extremely excited
I had already chatted for hours with the nice ghanian man
on the plane, and I was already starting to get a lot of attention
due to my err... color? I didn't mind though. That was one thing I
expected. I met one of the volunteer coordinators at the airport
and hopped on a taxi to the Accra bus station. Accra is often described
as being disgusting, but I honestly thought it looked like a lot of fun. The bus station had hundreds of vans called TroTros everywhere, none of which would stop for pedestrians. There were also tons of people carrying everything from loaves of bread to hard boiled eggs on their head hisses at all the people to get their attention. A few people called out to me, "Obruni!" which means white person (I am actually more like super-obruni), but it is more of a curiousity thing here though, rather than sexual or derogatory. i then took a four hour bus ride to Kumasi. The first 20 minutes a man rode with us and actually delivered an entire sermon, in both Twe and English. I would soon understand that Ghana is an insanely Christian country. Along the road I spotted 'God's Gift Hair salon', and 'Jesus Is Our Savior cellphone company.'

I arrived in Kumasi and made my way into the volunteer office where I met my fellow volunteer Meridith. She is 23 and we are pretty much already like sisters--(or Obruni sistahs!). I instantly liked Kumasi. It was crowded, loud, and hot, but I am a city girl. I didn't mind the men shouting at me or the cars driving 100 miles an hour. I loved that it was lively and busy and just full of life. Too bad I wasn't going to stay there.

I was supposed to stay in Kumasi, but things aren't really done here with much exactness. No one wears watches. Everyone waves hello to each other. It is really very nice and relaxed, except the part where no one has any organization or sense of commitment. They were about to ship Merdeith and I, 3 hours away to a small village, when I spoke up. Appaarently Kumasi was packed with volunteers, and they didn't need anyone. Then they decided to send us 30 minutes away to a village called--don't quote me on the spelling--Sechuway ( I called it Sechuan chicken in my head though.)

At this point I was optomistic. I hopped in yet another 3 dollar taxi and rode with Meredith to this village. We found ourselves on a dirt road passing acres of lush greenery. Finally, we stopped in front of a small wooden building. This was the oprhanage. I was instantly greeted by 6 or 7 tiny black children all hugging me. A boy who was missing an arm took my bag. There were chickens and cats running around, and some older children making a fire. No one was wearing shoes. I was shown my room with Meredith. It was a baed with a mosquito net and a closet. I was shown the bathroom, which was a small outhouse with no toilet paper. I realized there was no running water, instead I shower by pouring a bucket over my head, or as I like to call it: "getting my bucket on."

There were 17 children in the orphanage. Off the top of my head there is: Miracle, Augustine, Gladiss, Blessing, Floor, Atah-Kofee, Solomon, Abraham, Junior, and Soh-foo. 2 of them are missing limbs and I often confuse the boys and girls because everyone has the same haircut. There is another volunteer, Steve, who is leaving friday. "You will learn to live like Adam and eve," he said, "the simple life."

The entire time i was freaking out in my head. Trying to figure out how I had gotten into all this, and Meredith was just peachy as kids clung to us asking questions. I went to bed and cried.

I awoke at about 6:30 this morning when all the kids had gone to school. I at a breakfats of flavorless oats and bread (FYI. all they eat are carbs here) and felt a lot better. I walked around the village and some little babies started to cry because they had never seen a white person, which was as hilarious as it sounds.
I am tired, and I have many mosquito bites, but I think I am getting used to it here, and I think I may just be fine.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

seize infinite

How do I begin to tell you all how much has changed, how much I have changed? Part of me (a miniscule part!) longs for the
days I had an assignment to tell me what to write. That, I suppose, is the reality of graduation though: free to do as you please, yet burdened by the act of figuring out what it is you please. One thing I did learn in school though, is that words are simple metaphors for complex experiences and my life has been dripping with complex experiences lately. So I will try to take all of these colors and creatures, and put them into something more finite--high school sports.

I used to run track. A track race is a very straightforward event. You run in circles, from one point to another, and everyone cheers you on. You become fixated on your goal, and all that matters is pushing yourelf a little more to reach the finish line. My life has for years been a track race, but somewhere in between deferring college and completely 180ing my plans for next year, I stopped running in circles and started running just to run. Suddenly I realized that I had been so fixated on reaching some blurry finish line, that I had completely ignored the magic around me. There was music I had never heard, sharp winds I had never felt, roses I had never smelled. I somehow let my needs swallow and isolate me from the world I existed in.

I also begun to notice my fellow runners. Most were going toward some finish line--some sprinting--others lost. I saw people cry at the thought of losing a race they didn't even want to be in. Suddenly all I wanted to do was help these people, let them feel the soft blades of grass they were treading on, remind them that at any point they can throw in their uniform and stop competing. We are all put into uniform so early and taught to run in circles so young, that we forget how to just be. I know eventually I will have to get back in some race again, it is unavoidable, but I know this time things will be different. I will run slowly and carefully. I will stop to dance and sing, and look at clouds. I will never run so fast I can't feel the wind on my face.

Now to all of you. When I say you, I mean people I have talked to, chilled with, bonded with, in these last few months. Whether you are my best friend, or someone I have just met, I want you to know you are important to me. You are all my roses and rain, coloring the otherwise barren Earth. Every laugh, long talk, or random akward car ride we might have had is beautiful to me.

Without you all, I would be nothing but myself, detached from a world where everything is so beautifully connected
Without you, life would just be a series of starts and finishes.