life teachers

Many people have asked me (still ask me) why I wanted to spend a year away in rural Ghana.  I've answered this question numerous times with a semi-scripted response that bubbles out from repetition, but I always knew that I didn't quite know all the reasons why I was going, why I'm here.  With my penchant for anything to further personal/mental/spiritual growth, I knew I was setting up conditions to learn.  Only now do I see the reasons why I am here are constantly unfolding.  Every month, week, day, I realise something new and continue to recognise different situations as gifts of learning.  I don't necessarily believe or quite understand the concept of traditional predestination (as every event being fated), but I am truly beginning to see glimpses of the way things work.  I'm starting to see how my time here has been separated into chapters, every chapter preparing me for subsequent ones.

I had an idea of what my time here was going to look like conceptually: a few months alone, some travel time meeting other travelers, a few visitors, three months with one of the founder of HCC's sisters, some more travel, and the last few months with four volunteer program groups coming in and out.  I laid things out in this way to gather some understanding of my time here and ameliorate some of the fear I had.  My mental calendar didn't have anything to do with the programs I was going to run or the projects I was going to start, but instead the people I was going to encounter.  My fear wasn't around being unable to accomplish meaningful projects, I was afraid of being alone.  I was afraid of what my mind would do when I was alone.  The few months of solitude, travel time, and having guests in the house, all prepared me perfectly for this three month chapter I'm currently writing.  See, this roommate I recently acquired (founder's sister), is not just an ordinary roommate--she is one of the most important teachers I've ever been blessed to be a pupil of.

Before Andrea moved in, I was somewhat anxious to have a roommate for three months that I had never met or spoken to before.  I knew I would adjust, but I understood that our relationship would deeply change my daily life.  When you are living in a small town in the bush, as you can imagine, your days are not filled with busy structured work hours followed by sundry evening activities that leave only moments with your roommates.  There are only so many places to go, so many things to do, and so many windows of time to meet with the children.  I knew my life would be intertwined with this person for better or worse.  When Andrea arrived, I could tell straightaway that there was something very special about her.  She emanated a deep sense of genuine peace which manifested in the way she spoke about people, spoke about herself, moved through the day, and even in how she ate her food.  None of it seemed affected or contrived, but easy and natural.  My curiosity moved me to inquire and she slowly answered my questions about her mindfulness practice and approach to life.  She has generously and warmly sat with me and guided me through a learning process that is based on creating conditions for self-discovery rather than pedantic instructor-inflating lecturing.  This approach has fostered the start of real learning and real transformation.  She has helped to connect this practice to my faith, my fears, my relationships, and every other issue I bring up.  God is using this teacher to ground me in the perfect method, knowing absolutely that nothing else would work.  I have been prepared through various experiences in my journey here and from my beginning to receive the lessons I'm learning now, and these lessons are preparing me for what's ahead.  I am learning that things are as they are and I can move through life with more peace knowing that.  I don't know if I will ever be able to fully express how grateful I am to this beautiful teacher (/friend I can laugh for hours with) and to God for placing her in my life at this moment so perfectly, but I only hope I can continue to be a diligent student.

Thank you dear friends for continuing to follow my journey!

Love from Sandema,
Tippy

E-I-E-I-oh?: An extreme E finding her inner I

“Calm down!” was my mother’s default phrase for me while growing up—almost like a joyless nickname.  As a child, I was bouncing off walls, talking to anyone that would listen (and anyone that wouldn’t for that matter), and was overly affectionate with everyone.  I was this raw, unrefined, jagged mass of energy akin to a slobbery Labrador puppy.  Thank goodness my parents aren’t of the “medicate and sedate” variety or I’m sure my, what I’ll call “creative ‘artistic’ energy” (that euphemistic moniker needs two quotes) would’ve been drowned in Ritalin at an early age.  Instead, they let me talk to myself in the mirror for hours and do community theater while their strict Korean parental gaze admonished me to stay in line.  My parents were worried I’d be abducted as I attempted to make friends with every passing stranger with very little discrimination or awareness of risk.  The adjectives shy, quiet, or meek have never been used to describe me in the history of my life, which is probably no surprise to anyone reading this.  I fought this rambunctious nature as best as possible and quickly despised constantly being called loud and obnoxious (mostly by my older sister and her friends whom I worshiped and annoyed the hell out of) but didn’t know how to stifle my love for interacting with people and the energy I received from it.  Since birth, I was the purest extrovert one could be.  During various moments of my life, I yearned to be the sweet, soft-spoken, mysterious girl of few words, but could never pull the act off for more than an hour five minutes.  I have always been drawn to quiet people as I'm convinced they hold the secret to the universe or at least some colourful musings, but as a boy-crazy girl I also saw how the boys looked at these sweet girls of mystery and not knowing how to compete, I’d just punch the boy to get them to notice me (yep, I was that charming girl you all know who punched boys).  I’m sure you can imagine how well that went over.  

My fearless extroversion did serve me well in many ways as I traversed a couple tough moves (one in the beginning of middle school and the other in the beginning of high school), but was also knocked down a peg when my affability was countered with the cruelties of wicked adolescent female trolls.  Through many different experiences and personal transformations of growth, my energetic mass has been somewhat refined and slowly cut into a discernible shape.  I’ve learned to abate the frenetic hyperactivity and more than gladly give up the spotlight on most occasions.  This was never about getting attention (as much as my parents think it’s some youngest child cry)—it has always been about my love for people.  Being in the company of others is where I feel the most alive and grounded.  That hasn’t changed much, but the quality of the company has.  As someone who basically forces friendship upon every helpless passerby who peaks her interest, I have made many friends along my journey.  But with life’s growing demands, I have become much more fastidious with the company I keep.  My extroversion has always favored one-on-one deep connections, though I do love myself a party.  As I have gotten older, this preference has grown stronger and I spend most all of my free time on friend dates with dear keepers of my soul.  Most of the “party friends” or drama-mamas (and papas) have been phased out with my flashy high heels and traded in for worn-in comfy lace-up leather boots (and friends equivalent to my trusty kicks), though I do love to throw my heels on every once in a while.  Through this shaping of my relationship with others, my offering of every free moment to be with those I care about hasn’t changed.  I’d find myself feeling unable to turn down a dinner date, a weekend trip, and most of all—the emotional needs of a friend, even if my body and mind ached for quiet.  My beloved roommates teased me about my social schedule while trying to get into it so even time at home was spent giggling with girlfriends.  I wasn’t sure how my life got that way, but for the most part I couldn’t see how it could be any different.  I was always going to put my friends and family over my own rest and that was that.  Unless I decided to move to rural Africa or something.......

Being away from all of the beautiful relationships I have at home, I had to start over in a sense.  I have made a few friends here and there and thoroughly enjoy the people, but things are different here.  The other volunteers I have encountered and grew great fondness for have all come and gone with their short-term visits, and the amiable and generous Ghanaians I’ve met are all willing to lend a hand and share everything with me, including their time, but it’s difficult to reach that level of depth that I crave in my friendships.  I want to be able to give you my heart and receive some of yours as the foundation of a meaningful connection that will last lifetimes.  Language and cultural differences serve as strong barriers to this kind of closeness.  I’m learning that the kinds of friendships I am making are not in any way lesser in value to the ones I have at home, but they’re just a different flavor.  I also think this is a lesson that has been packaged for me as a way to soften my heart and reveal my attitude towards my relationship with my very Korean mother who shows love much in the way that folks here do—food, time, gifts, service (it’s actually VERY similar to having a lot of family around that you don’t really talk about anything substantial with but you know will have your back at any moment).  I will continue to work on this and hopefully gain some humility in the process.  

The other side effect from the miles between me and loved ones from home is all the time alone I’m left with.  There are no shows, parties, bars, restaurants, etc. to go to, so my time outside of traveling is split between my house, the boys’ house, and the market.  As much as I adore the HCC boys like my own brothers (I mean that with little exaggeration), they are playful and energetic boys that can take a lot out of you.  After a morning full of grant writing and planning and a few hours at the house, I find myself needing to retreat to my haven of aloneness in the evenings.  I have been introduced to quiet and solitude I have talked about in previous posts that has become somewhat…addictive.  On the weekends and during free hours, I hole myself up in my house reading, concocting dishes masterpieces in the kitchen, sitting in silence, reading, drinking tea with cream and sugar while reading, writing, and listening to audiobooks while doing chores.  It’s quite amazing.  No social guilt compelling me to pull on party pants when I just want to veg, no roommates I want to catch up with, nowhere to even go if I wanted.  I’m peeking into the world of an introvert…and loving it.  I am recharging my batteries with rest and alone time instead of yapping the night away.  I have traded in my dining out every night for discovering how to make home flavours I crave from the ingredients I can find here (remind me to give you a really good popcorn recipe and how to perfectly pop non-microwave bag good stuff).  Instead of live music, movies, and Netflix, I am getting to know hundreds of characters through my books.  Excuse me while I do a quick “I love reading” aside.  I really love to read.  I love stories.  Stories drive me in life—the stories of people I meet, the stories that people create, inspirational stories of extraordinary people, and crafting my own story.  Unlike my sister, reading wasn’t my thing growing up.  I always loved interesting plot lines and being read to, but I never had the patience for it and interacting with breathing people always trumped ones painted with words.  During university I discovered how much I really love words, language, and writing.  That led me to loving other people’s writing and discovering interesting theories and new worlds through symbols on paper.  IT’S SO COOL!  You can go on adventures through impossible worlds and meet the most dynamic and complicated people without having to deal with their craziness in real life.  It’s a shame we don’t have more time for reading in our packed lives in the Western world.  I feel so blessed to be forced into this window of introversion and I truly am beginning to understand the power of it.  Having this space and time has allowed for untainted introspection and reflection as well as an ability to relish in a different kind of fun.  A relaxing fun.  I would definitely welcome a friend or two that I could have deeper conversations on a regular basis with, but I am appreciating this new way of life for now.  

Avocado and tomato toast with Sriracha and strawberry black tea!

My version of Chinese food with a crap load of cashews.

THE BEST MANGOES EVER. Sadly, I haven't seen them in the market since the day I bought them.

Thank you for enduring this long-winded self-indulgent post, but then again, you’re here on my blog to capture these musings so I suppose it’s expected.  Many people have asked what I’m doing for the holidays, but it doesn’t feel much like Christmas around here at all!  It’s warm, there’s no Christmas music, no commercialism being shoved down my throat, and it’s actually kind of nice.  Tuesday morning I’ll go down to the boys’ house bearing chocolate chip banana bread and hot chocolate.  I’ll go to church with some of the boys and we’ll come back to do some presents and a big tasty lunch.  The rest of the day will be full of hangs and laughs I’m sure :)  For New Year’s Eve, I’ve been invited to a Peace Corps gathering by a PCV I was connected with but haven’t actually met yet.  I’m excited to be around some Americans (I really haven’t met any here) and talk about American-y things and speak American English!  It will be about 8-10 people at a guesthouse run by an RPCV right outside my mailbox town.  There will apparently be beer and burritos aka the only things you need for a party.  It was really nice of the guy to invite me and I’ll be using all my gregarious ammo to take down all these strangers into complete friendship domination.  

I love you all.  I hope your days will be merry and bright.  Eat an extra Christmas cookie for me, will ya?!  Happy Christmas!  All I ask is that through the presents and excitement, try to remember what this time of year is about :)

Love from Sandema,

Tippy

 

p.s. If you want to give a little to these AWESOME, RADDER THAN JETPACKS boys, here’s an easy way: http://holidaysathorizons.causevox.com/

p.p.s. If you want to give a little to rebuild mud houses of flood victims who really need help to get back on their feet (I’m talking on living on a few cents a day), donate here and I’ll make sure the money goes directly to the cause: http://g-roots.ca/?page_id=605

p.p.p.s Here’s an interesting TED talk on introverts that my friend Alice reminded me to watch: http://www.ted.com/talks/susan_cain_the_power_of_introverts.html

Countryside Clarity

As I curiously watched the leggy insect seemingly take in the scenery perched atop a small boy’s head, I contemplated swatting it off knowing full well I would have no way to explain to the child in Buli why the hell I just struck him.  I decided to leave the bug and the boy alone and turned to half-listen to the other men around who were discussing the upcoming Ghanaian election, “…education needs to be accessible to all…he really is great at capturing the attention of the people…but his policies are not well structured…”  We were all huddled under a small shelter while the deluge pounded complex rhythms on the aluminum roof.  We shared the idea to wait out the storm before heading back home.  Joe and I had taken a trip to a nearby village, Kadema, where he started a sustainable dry season farming initiative.  We had a meeting with the farmers and discussed the plans for the upcoming season.  The journey out to Kadema was stunningly gorgeous with the whipped cream skies and the dirt roads that led us through beautiful tropical trees, open skip-worthy-song-singing fields, and hoards of roaming animals.  I swore off motorcycles after the accident with my adventurous but at times over-zealous pops in The Dominican Republic, but there’s really no way to avoid them here.  I’m actually thankful for that as there couldn’t have been a more perfect way to enjoy the trip than on the back of a moto-bike alternating between closed eyes and hungry ones, taking it all in.  This is my life for now.  I’m so grateful.

Do you remember the last time you felt truly rested; at peace; and in-tune with your mind, body, and spirit?  I don’t remember either, but I’ve arrived to this state and can’t even trace the steps for getting here.  This past week, I found clarity I was searching for, motivation I had left somewhere, creativity I had suffocated, and weightless bliss I hadn’t seen in some time.  My life here has no work stress, personal money stress, holiday stress, boyfriend stress, and no social calendar with every hour reserved until two weeks from Tuesday.  I make my own schedule, sleep solid hours, live in a house alone with no rent, guiltlessly read books for hours on a Friday night, and only do what I want.  And surprisingly, I’ve wanted to do many things that I avoided at home.  I have been eagerly grant researching and writing (for an organization where I know all the beneficiaries personally), I’ve been able to creatively conceptualize and work on new projects, I’ve been able to think clearly and without anxiety about my future plans, and I’ve even excitedly updated my resume!  The thing is, I didn’t even realize how foggy and heavy I felt at home until those things were lifted.  It’s amazing how we function in The States running at 135 miles per hour, balancing 8 loads on our head, with our tanks on E.  Are we actually as productive as our schedules boast?  Are we present enough in all of our forty obligations to make it worth it?  When I was home, even the thought of tackling grad school research brought stones to my stomach and flashing lights of migraines with aura.  We’re so overloaded that any additional task seems like the last pebble that collapses the stacked pile.  We find ourselves plagued with psycho-somatic aches and can’t locate the source of the quivering anxiety deep within us.  We try yoga, meditation, therapy, prayer, etc. sometimes without results.  I mean, heck, I’ve tried all those things, but it wasn’t until I was ripped out of my comfort zone and into a rural African town with no friends and no solid direction that I have found some peace and clarity.  Weird, huh?  I don’t think it needs to be so drastic, but I wonder what it will take for me to find this when I catch myself stuck again in the hamster wheel of Western society.  I know this feathery floating will eventually be grounded by the heavy gravitational pull of reality when planning for my year back as my time here dwindles, so I say all this not to brag, but for posterity—to remind my future self that life rules when you can see straight.  I don’t have an answer for how to bring this energy home, but I do hope that some of it naturally sticks to me.  I hope I can remind myself that life is as simple or as complicated as we make it, and sometimes all it takes is a beautiful drive through the quiet countryside to reset.

I always think it so neat when you can watch the clouds blanket the sky and tuck the sun in before a downpour.

Farmers we are supporting with the G-Roots project

This is not the post I had planned for this week, but I had to share before the moment shifts even in the slightest.  Wishing all you dears some of the peace I'm floating in.

Love from Sandema,
Tippy