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
Ghana Write
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Sunday, December 23, 2012
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
Labels:
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writing
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Major Ketchup.
I miss ketchup. Like, real ketchup.
There's this other version here that's sickeningly sweet and just missing the
mark in flavor but is the only thing served at places that might sell things
you would want ketchup with (not very many places). You can buy the
imported stuff in Accra, but I can't seem to justify paying six dollars for a
small bottle of Heinz when I barely make stuff to put it on. There are
certain things I'm willing to regularly pay the high price of importedness on like: olive
oil, twix, potato crisps, sachets of sauce mix, and chocolate covered
digestives, but ketchup? Get outta here.
Wow, I just started with a tangent. Welcome to my
brain. Clearly what I mean by the title is that I haven't written in a
couple weeks and I have a lot to catch-up on. Catch-up, ketchup...ya
know. By now, you must know my never-failing love of word play.
I do apologise for neglecting the blog for a bit, but life
has been slightly insane and the more time that piled on since my last post,
the more daunting the task of posting became! Go procrastination! Who knows how long I would've gone on if I didn't have a few friends poke me to update.
Right after my birthday, I went on a little holiday with my
friend Rianne who was on her way back to Holland. We were supposed to go
on a trip earlier, but my malaria spell decidedly changed our plans. We were now headed to Accra and Cape Coast for
the week as she was flying out from Accra anyway. This trip was filled with the most intense
ups and downs that came with a heavy
shake-up of reality, but I can get to some of that later. We shelled out more coinage than I would’ve
liked, but we excused the wallet-emptying with my birthday and Rianne’s
farewell. We actually took a plane ride which cost $50 from
the Northern Region capital, Tamale, to Accra to cut down one day of
travel. We normally would take the 16
hour bus ride that ends up incapacitating you for one more day after the
journey as you de-zombify. Though the
short one hour plane ride significantly condensed our trip, we still had to
take the 1.5 hour trotro ride to Bolga, 4.5 hour trotro ride to Tamale, 45 min
cab ride to the airport, 1 hour plane ride to Accra, and 30 minute cab ride to
our guesthouse. Sounds exhausting, but I’ve
really gotten used to the nature of travel here. It is what it is. We stayed in my favourite guesthouse in Accra
for the first night, met some other ex-pats
and I was overwhelmed by the ease of connection when allowed to speak your native
tongue freely (though my English is getting wonky as I'm usually speaking to people who use Ghanaian/British English and most of the people I meet
here have heavy British influence or are Canadian). The south is a different world than up north, each having their pros and cons. A feeling of empowerment surged through me as I was able to navigate the city easily and felt comfortable and confident in my traveling skills.
The next morning, Rianne and I got on a trotro heading
towards Cape Coast and arrived at our beautiful hotel in Biriwa, the fishing
town neighbouring Cape Coast proper. The
pricey 25 bucks a night I was shelling out was totally worth it. We had the beach to ourselves and a quiet
pool to relax in after a morning of waves.
The beach was really rocky and rough, something I’m not used to, but was
nonetheless lovely.
The quiet nook I journaled at in the mornings and where Rianne and I took our lunch |
The required traveler's cheapass lunch--baguette with cheese and chocolate (not together) |
Rianne treated me to a nice birthday dinner at the hotel restaurant! (which they obviously served with the weird ketchupy stuff) |
After a day and a half of doing absolutely nothing but swimming, sunbathing, and eating, we decided to do the canopy walk at Kakum National Park (we saw no animals but scampered across nifty high bridges) and visit Cape Coast town.
Lizards are EVERYWHERE here, but this one was huge and boasted some cool coloring. |
Our adorable guide who was jazzed to inform us about every type of tree in the park. |
Obama's name and face is plastered everywhere here, but especially in Cape Coast where he visited. I'm used to seeing it and loving it, but this just made me laugh. |
Cape Coast slave castle |
Our daily breakfast table |
Our breakfast view of the fishing boats |
A couple people asked me to show the what Accra looks like, so here's a photo from the ride into the city |
Kineche market and station, one of the central areas in the city |
Trotros on top of trotros on top of trotros |
I'm STILL impressed by huge loads being carried on heads |
The view from KFC's second floor (it's a mega store) of Osu, the area I stay in |
Some of the reality shaking I hinted at in the beginning of the post is a bit difficult and slightly too intimate to get into on such a public forum, but a short version of a part of it has to do with connecting with new people in the city that were taking in this side of me that isn't revealed much back in The States. Everyone I meet here is getting this "traveler Tippy," a make-up free, crap clothes clad, fearless, slightly smelly gal who can go weeks living out of a tiny back-pack. With this image of me comes these assumptions I've never really worn before that feel itchy and new though they sort of fit as well. The physical cues of my identity from home are stifled under the way I live here that folks I have been meeting on this adventure see a different facade of a person than they would at home. It's no surprise that all of us make snap judgments about people based on the way they present themselves physically, where they hang out, who they associate with, and even the food and drink they take. I just didn't realise how much I was holding all the strings of an image together at home, not inauthentically, but in an effort to be seen or judged as closely to what lies underneath. Or what I hoped lies underneath. Being the District city dweller, hip creative, music lover, non-profiteer, vegetarian, liberal, etc. etc. etc. was subconsciously important for me to convey to an onlooker. [I understand that by putting this all out there I'm vulnerable to critical eyes who will see me as some image monger, adolescent in her personal growth and identity, but I hope some will see I'm just trying to be honest about something many of us, dare I say ALL of us to some degree, do.] It was when Jason said something indicating his dislike for girls who wear makeup and are caught up in caring about clothes and fussing over their hair, that I realised he was saying this to me in solidarity as I am cleeearly nothing like that. It struck me like a blow to the head as I saw myself in the way he saw me. It's crazy because I'm not being anyone else but myself--I'm just being who I am in the current situation. And through my lack of home image maintaining, I had stumbled into a new image with a different outside perception. This was a completely uncanny experience that I am working through. We get so tied to different identities through our jobs, location, religion, political party, passions, talents, etc. that we forget there's a core outside of those boxes. Or a core that doesn't fit into any boxes. Or something like that. I strive hard to be as authentic as possible, but it gets confusing when interaction with others challenges what you have set in your mind. Letting go has been a theme throughout my time here. Letting go of things I need to move on from and letting go of the identity I so tightly wrapped around myself at home. I guess this is all just a part of the process. Some kind of pruning. It also got me thinking that we need to slow down with our hasty judgments and take a bit more time to get to know someone beyond their initial impression. Jason would probably have no interest in knowing who I was if he met me in The States, but since my rough and low-maintenance exterior got him to want to be friends, we had the opportunity to see that we get along smashingly and have a lot in common. I'm not sure how I'll reconcile all of this when I'm back home one day, but that's a bridge I'll cross later. Anyway, this is just ONE of the many many soul-churning obstacles I stumbled/am stumbling through sparked by this trip, but I'll stop with this one as I believe this post is becoming record-breaking in length.
The rest of my time in Accra was lovely aside from being followed by this strange man and nearly getting assaulted...ahem...ummm...yeah, but that's a story for another time. Overall, it was great to indulge in the city luxuries of cheese, restaurants, pubs, and easy conversation. It's nice to know it exists if I need it. When I headed back home, I was hit with culture shock part deux and the weight of all my ground-shaking thoughts, but it also felt good to be back in my peaceful town. That's the thing about living here, my highs are sky-shattering, but my lows are just as deep. And when I travel, it gets even more intense. It's like life...on crack (I'm guessing as I have no clue what crack is like).
An illustration of the peace of Sandema |
It feels amazing to be back in a place where you unexpectedly run into an hour of fun at the borehole :) |
Thanks to the amazing friends who helped me debrief from this trip and for those of you who made it through this post! Life gets confusing out here, but it's nice to know I have stabiliser friends all over the world. Thank you for loving me.
Love from Sandema,
Tippy
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