The days are numbered.

31 days until I leave Ghana. I'm excited and sad at the same time. I'm really excited to go home and see my friends and family, I miss them all so much. I'm excited to go home and show my photos and tell my stories to everyone. I'm excited to eat different food even though the Ghanaian food will be something I will miss so much. I'm excited to wear new clothes as the ones I have are mostly stained and/or ripped. I'm also KINDA excited to start school. To add book knowledge to the experiential knowledge I have gained. But I know once I leave I'll miss Ghana, my second home now. The minute I'll step on the plane, leave the Ghanaian soil, I'll want to go back. I'll cry when I have to leave my friends, all of the beautiful people I have met during my time in Ghana.

BUT, I know I will be back. recently while falling asleep in my mosquito infested room I have been thinking about when I come back to Ghana. Seems strange to be planning to come back here when I haven't left. But Ghana does that to a person, makes you fall in love with it. It gets in your soul and never escapes. So, I'll be back, I know.

"Ice Pure Water"

It's getting near the end of my time here. Some days I find myself doing nothing. I could really see how someone could give up and hide in their room. But I refuse to stop learning.

For those of us who have had the pleasure of traveling to Ghana already, we know the term 'pure water'. For those who don't, basically Pure water is treated water that is sold in 500ml sachets. A bag of 30 cost 80 Gp. (about 80 cents). To earn money many people sell individual sachets of pure water that have been put in the fridge to become cold, some sell out of stationary coolers while others sell on their heads. These cost 5 Gp each.

I decided that I wanted to learn more. I wanted to learn what it would be like to sell pure water on my head for a day. So I loaded up a plastic container of cold sachets and ice put it on my head and went out to sell. the first sachet I sold was to a carpenter. I continued down the street, people staring more then they already do, most also laughing. I made it to a secondary school where students called me into classes bursting at the seams from laughing, I didn't mind, they bought water.

I finished what I had just past the school and went back to Matthew House to load up more. This time when I went back to Matthew House Fr. was there, he was so shocked that I was doing this but very supportive, I think he laughed more then the people on the street. I made another trip with even more water. I didn't make it very far before I ran out of water and quickly went back and made another trip towards town. My destination had been the market but a white girl selling water was too exciting to not buy from.

By the end of the day I had met so many people. Many asked why I was doing this, I just would reply, why not.

This morning I found out that the news was all over K'dua, a white girl sold pure water on her head. I walked to the market with Akosua (a friend of mine) and people were yelling CAIT CAIT and asking why I wasn't selling in Twi. It was a really great experience to physical feel what it is like to do a simple and popular job.

I've been told tomorrow I will be out to the streets again. I hope my back can handle it.

New World

I once lived in a world where I heard about people who starved
where i heard about people who never went to school
where I heard about people who know they will die soon
where i heard about children with purged bellies
Where i heard about overcrowded hospitals, overcrowded schools, overcrowded villages, overcrowded homes
I now live in a world where i eat with the children with purged belleis
Where I am taught by the people who never went to school
Where I sleep and work beside the people who know they will die soon
Where I wait in the overcrowded hospitals and love everyone in the overcrowd home
I now live in the real world

Untitled.

Aids is real
If you don't believe me
The come and see
Get up from your comfy sofa
Move away from all your luxuries
Unplug your refridgerator, your washing machine
Step outside of your masked world
Step into reality
Move towards those who suffer
Those with empty pockets and empty stomachs
Talk to them
Eat with them
Celebrate with them
Walk with them
Then you will know that Aids is real
It effects real people in real places
The aids will be your battle
You will suffer from it too, because your friends do.

October 4th 2007

Four months ago today I arrived in Ghana. It's hard to believe that four months ago plus one day I was in Canada. I remember arriving at the airport to see my three group mates, Amanda, Aryn, Mark minus beard. I remember the teary eyed goodbye with my mom, we held it together well. I remember the excited looks on Pamela and Colleans' faces because they knew where we were going. I remember going through my pictures on the floor in T.O. airport, forcing the others to see pictures of my friends and family. I remeber the lay over in Amsterdamn airport, eating our take away breakfasts' the KLM gave us and looking at our reflections on the electrical ramp thing. After a long time in the air, feeling restless, we arrived in Ghana. I remember waiting for our luggage seeing vicious dougs in cages that someone had brought overseas to Ghana. I also remember staying extra long in the airport with Mark because they lost one of our bags. I remember my first images of Ghana, it was dark outside and we walked out into a large crowd of people who were waiting for others to arrive. In this crowd was Sister B, Jackson and Eric.

Wow, four months ago and I still remember so much. As I sit here at a very slow computer at an internet cafe in K'dua drinking fermented corn, I hope that I can remember that much in four months from now.

Market Day

Imagine you are a seller in a market. You have a stall in the back corner. You sell shoes, all kinds, heals, sneakers, flip flops, slitters. You make a small profit, enough to support you five children. Your friend sells beside you, a young women who sells cloth, traditional and untraditional. To your other side is an old woman who sells tomatores, onions and pepe. In front of you is a hairdresser, she earns most of her income by selling weaves. Its a sunday, mid-afternoon. You arrived only hours ago, right after church. Today is busy as ever, you've made enough money to bring home cassave and plaintan for fufu tonight, the children will be thrilled. When things are quiet at you stall you look up, you see a young man whom you see everyday. He sells friend egg sandwiches. You've had one before, only once, you thought he was a little over sealous with the salt. But you see someone is purchasing from him. They are fairly far, at the end of the row about 50 metres away. but you can see him as he turns on the gas, to start cooking. He uses a gas stove with one burner. He picks up his match and lights the element. He then throws the used match on the ground, it wasn't fully estinguished when it hit the ground, you watch it fall to what looks like a small puddle of water. You were wrong, the tank had leaked, the lit match fell into a small puddle of gasoline. It lit up like a full moon in the pitch black sky. As people around realized what was happening the crowded market became chaotic. There are eight small enterances to the market and buyers and sellers rushed them with their arms full. You had a choice, you could quickly go or collect what you could of you shoes and avoid losing hundreds of cedis (dollars). Without your shoes you wouldnt be able to support your children. You made the choice you had to make, you started to fill your bag. You looked to your friend with the cloth, she had made the same choice. You yell to her to collect what she can and you\d come back to the rest. You follow her out, both carrying your valuable on your heards. She stops at a spot that is a decent distance from the market. She will gaurd the items while you go back in. You know the fire will spread fast so you have to hurry. You race through the crowds like a fish swimming up stream. You arrive at the stall and start to grab what you can, shoes on your head and cloth in each of your arms, a small bag of onions you manage to save for the old lady beside you. You can smell the weaves burning. You remember back to a month ago when the hairdresser commented to a potential buyer that they were made from real hair, you were certain of that now. You can also smell the burning leather of your own merchandise you couldn't save. You look to your left to see some young mean looting, stealing what they can of sellers precious livelihood, you know those sellers hadn't abandoned their things yet, but they would come back to see it almost all gone. You hear sirens in the distance, thank God, you know you have to go. You've saved what you can. You run as fast as you can wit h the things you carry and smoke in your eyes. As you pass the old woman you give her her onions, she is greatful. You made it to you friend who is in tears because of the thousands of cedis she has lost in expensive cloth. You both lean against a railing and watch the market go up in smoke. You hear someone say that the fire department can't do anything because it's a gas fire. We have to wait it out. You watch the police and ambulance struggle to make it through the narrow roads, overflowing with people and cars. You watch as people continue to run out of the market with as much as they can carry. Peopl risking their lives in order to avoid losing their money. The fire dies out about three hours later.


A similar situation happened in Koforidua market on January 27th. I watch smoke fill the sky, people screaming, crying and scurrying with piles upon piles on their heads and the police about 75 metres away because they couldn't make it though the traffic