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
Saturday, June 28, 2008
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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