Images often speak louder than words so here are some additional pictures of my trip.

Primarily for you old folk who don’t have Facebook:) Apologies they are a bit small in the blog but you get the gist.

I definitely chose the right time to come to India, as it is “festival season”. They have a very different mindset for many of their religious festivals/holidays than Westerners; it’s more like Columbus Day. Almost everyone still goes to work (except for government employees, banks, and sometimes schools/universities), except for the upcoming Diwali where I am told almost no one works for 3 to 5 days.

From October 15^th-23^rd, the festival of Navratri has been going on, which is a Hindu festival where they honor various goddesses and people are fasting (they eat one meal in the evening). Though, I was traveling for most of Navatri, I did get to see Papa-Ji and Mama-Ji complete the traditional prayers, ring the bell, and blow the goat’s horn one night, very cool.

On the 10^th day, it is Dusherra. The reason for celebration is based on a Hindu tradition where good has triumphed over evil, which they celebrate by burning an effigy representing the physical embodiment of evil.(I got the entire epic from Papa-ji; however, I’ll only give this very short version here) Since I had been gone for 10 days, I went in to work still, but I was the only one there for most of the day. While I sat at my desk working on a proposal due in one week (doing my daily routine of slowly moving my computer around my desk trying to find a spot where the Internet work, very similar to a doctor trying to find a heartbeat), I heard hoards of people walking by, drums pounding Dutch house rhythms, and a general air of excitement. While celebrations occurred all around the town, the main celebrations in Udaipur were held in the stadium near Chetuk Circle. I went with two close friends, and we showed up right at the end to see the large wooden structures where the effigy was smoldering into ash. (Sorry, all I have is my iPod touch for a camera, meaning no pictures where you can actually tell what is happening)

 

In general, things are going very well here. I’m busy working on a variety of different things for the organization. There are some new volunteers at Jagran so I am doing a bit of “coordinating” for that as well. I just returned from a two-night stay with the two new volunteers in the Jagran field office at Vali. First, we went to the field office in Jaisamand, which is home to Dhebar Lake, Asia’s 2^nd largest man made lake, which has 52 villages surrounding it. After spending some time looking at the fish, elephant statues, and a photoshoot with the driver came a very beautiful drive to Vali.

 

We were lucky enough to have a full moon that night for two reasons. First the power was out in the village and we needed the light to see. But also because certain places in india have a type of celebration where many people from the community gather around to sing songs, play different musical instruments, and drink lots of chai to celebrate the full moon. In Vali, it was hosted by one of the Jagran coordinators who packed his house very full and made sure we had a good time there.

The next day, we saw a number of different projects Jagran is running in the village, and I got a chance to practice my remedial Hindi. Still not conversational yet, but definitely getting a strong start. At least, I can tell people I want food now.

Mpumalanga:the place where the sun rises

Last weekend I ventured 1,864km from my bustling city life in Cape Town all the way north and across the country to Sabi Sands Game Reserve adjacent to the infamous Kruger National Park in the Mpumalanga province with my friends Lauren, Josh, and Colin.

As you can see, physically it was quite the trek (keep in mind South Africa is 3x the size of Texas!) As seems to be the trend these past few months, once again, South Africa slapped me across the face with humility, respect, and awe. There is so much I want to illustrate as part of this post so I can communicate the experience to you effectively, but also so I can personally reflect and document vividly as well. Therefore, I have decided to split this post up into a couple installments. I hope you check back soon to enjoy the whole story!

Friday October 19, 2012

As you all know I am a gem in the morning so you won’t be surprised when I say I literally rolled out of bed at 4:45am in what I planned to wear on the plane, brushed my teeth and caught a taxi to the airport to catch our 6:10am flight to Johannesburg.

After a much needed 2 hour siesta we rented a car, stocked up on road trip necessities (coffee, chips, dried beef and fruit) and we were off! I drove us the whole 7 hrs. since I am the only one able to drive a standard car. And let’s be honest I learned from my dad how to save and that everyone else on the road is a moron except for me so it was only natural that we save money on the car and I volunteer to drive. Josh was my co-pilot, Colin was the official documenter with his GoPro, and Lauren looked pretty and was the dj for our sing-a-long sessions. Our car, which was later named “Yoshi” was clearly the cheapest option available. In addition to its small size, the clutch and accelerator often would stick so I would have to use my toes to pull them back out. In addition, Yoshi’s horsepower was the equivalent of a three year old on a tricycle, but he got us there and back safely so there are no complaints!

Driving through the beautiful country side of South Africa shed light on how diverse and beautiful this country is and it seemed the farther and farther that we traveled from Cape Town the more and more I surrendered myself to it. The rolling hills, bright red dirt, small farmers, winding roads, canyons, informal traders... The vibrancy of the culture and scenery poured into the windows of our tiny car and lifted us all to a level of excitement we could not contain.

Finally, when we rolled up to the gates of the Sabi Sand game reserve we couldn’t hold it any longer and we had to celebrate our arrival to the broadway version of “Circle of Life” (come on we are grown ups, the Disney version was so 1990). Then as if hitting play made our presence known, as Yoshi climbed over the first hill we found our route blocked by a giraffe! Not like the ones that I fed at the Colorado Springs zoo as a kid, BUT A WILD GIRAFFE! Ear to ear smiles, screams, and off tune belts of it’s the circle of life, and it moves us all totally happened.

Upon arrival at the Nkhoro Bush Lodge, our day only got better. Welcomed by a very friendly staff we luckily made it just in time for the evening game drive. We hopped into the open jeep and were able to add elephants (of which you could see from the lodge at the watering hole), white rhinos, zebras, springbok and more giraffes to our list!

The game drive is followed by a wonderful traditional dinner, reflection of the day, and then exhausted we were all soothed to sleep by a miraculous thunderstorm that boomed throughout the bush and poured rain that pattered rhythmically against our thatched roof.

Malaria. Western countries hear this term and they flip. We put people with Malaria  in isolation for an indefinite amount of time until they can figure out what could possibly be wrong with you... It’s a tropical disease. It has to be deadly...right?
Not. Ghanaians claim I got Malaria last week. Yes, that’s right, me. Guess what? I’m still alive. The funny thing is there’s no way of proving I have it anymore because it’s already gotten out of my system. Rather than being taken to the hospital and tested, last Wednesday afternoon (October 17th), the Headmaster assisted me to his car, drove on a long (and miserable) bumpy road and we ended up at a house. A Ghanaian man with his shirt half unbuttoned took me into his home, sat me down on his couch and asked me to describe what I had been feeling. Sore throat. Dizziness. Nausea. Lightheaded. Extreme Fatigue. Body aches. Sounded good enough to him so he kindly wrote something down on a small scratch piece of paper and was asked to take it to the pharmacy to receive my anti-Malaria medication. So that’s it? No test, nothing? There has to be a mistake... I notified Henry, our program director, and he simply told me that Ghanaians see it enough to recognize it and that they will take very good care of me. The Headmaster paid for my medication, and I was taken back to school and crawled back in bed. That’s all I wanted to do...sleep. Needless to say, I am feeling much better. I’m still alive, and regardless of whether or not it was in fact Malaria, all is well that ends well. The entire school knew about my illness within hours. Word travels fast out here. They all wished me a quick recovery and were so delighted to see me teaching again.

Yes, Malaria is a tropical disease. Yes, it is something to take seriously. But for all of you Westerners (my mother included) who are worried that I will be haunted by this disease my entire life...relax a little. It’s just like any other disease. Yes, it stays in my system but so does chicken pox once you’ve had it. It can’t come back to haunt me every year or anything crazy like that. I have to be bitten by one of the Anopheles mosquitoes to catch it again. In very very rare cases does it turn into something terminal. Rest assured, Ghanaians claim I got it and I’m still truckin’, ladies and gentlemen!

I’ve had many other interesting experiences over the past two weeks. I woke up at 2am one night to feel something tickling me...not one of those tickles you feel and think ‘you’re making stuff up, go back to sleep.’ Like seriously, tickling. First on my leg, then the side of my arm, then my neck... What in the world. I turned on the flashlight on my phone to find a huge cockroach crawling up my bed net... I’ve never jumped out of a bed that fast in my life. I literally flew myself off the top bunk bed and woke Chrissy up instantly. We’re in the dark, and I’m panicking. Chrissy is half awake and I’m trying to point and explain the thing that has now made its way up to the top of my bed net. I am forever grateful that one of the gentlemen who work around the school was up, by the grace of God, and I opened my door and asked him, as calmly as possibly to remove the creature who has found a home in my bed! It’s 2:20am and he’s just laughing. I think that’s all he does now any time he sees me, especially since I seem to be the one always finding mysterious spiders and creatures in our room or near my presence. I can deal with a lot of the changes in Ghana, but no matter how much all of the Ghanaians laugh at me, I will never, Never be okay with any of their bugs. Yuck.

Almost a full 6 weeks in, I’m getting much more used to things just not being perfect. Francis and Erika are the two young ladies who wash our laundry, and I have begun to give up on guessing when we will get it back. Between the rain and the lack of any dryers, I know not to expect laundry back any time shortly after I give it to them. Also, more and more of my things are getting stained. Little pink stains are now noticeable on my underwear, which I wash myself, and even some of my shirts and dresses. It’s not a big thing. It’s what happens when you hand wash. But aiyy! I just wasn’t expecting that one.

As far as the showers go, I take mine in the evening. I’ve been extremely lucky that the pipes have not ran out of water just before I go to bathe. Poor Chrissy takes most of her showers in the morning and has been let down countless times when no water comes out of the shower or faucet. Knock on wood because showering daily is imperative in my mind. Because of this and countless other things, I’ve come to accept that I am third world high maintenance. I used to think I was so laid back about most things. And back home, I certainly am. But I’m not too sure about here...

I believe I’ve mentioned before that the Headmistress is the one who makes our meals everyday. The sweet African lady takes the time to work hard in the canteen for us, to prepare our daily meals...and we barely eat it. Either because we just can’t eat the large portions they give us or simply because we’re so sick of rice these days, that just the sight of it makes our stomachs ache. We’ve gotten some different things. Yam, Banku, sometimes fried egg. And those have all been fairly good, but we just can’t eat all of it and now we have learned that we have been hurting her feelings! The poor lady! We sat down with her and explained our smaller-portion-diet and the need for foods other than rice! She was so sweet about it, and it made me feel so incredibly bad for not voicing this sooner.

A couple of Sundays ago we went to church...from 8am to 12pm. Four hours. A test of patience to the max. Most of it was fine. There was some music, readings from the Bible and students got a chance to sing a song or read a verse they wanted to share. I even got the privilege to sing a song, with one of the male students, who wrote the song and taught me! Everyone really liked it, and overall the service was great... It was just long. Too long. At one point during worship, two girls just started screaming. Chrissy and I were so confused as we stared at them, scratching themselves, holding their ears, screaming and kicking about. A couple of students forced them on the floor, tied their feet together and just held them there as the rest of the church continued praising God. It was the strangest, and in my mind saddest, thing I had ever seen. I didn’t understand it, and in all honesty, I don’t think I was really supposed to. I sat there and prayed on my own that God would look after them and just continue to work through them as He sees fit.

Classes are going well. I’m still teaching Form 1 English and Chrissy has Form 1 Science. We’re becoming a lot more comfortable with the students, and I believe they are with us. They truly crack us up sometimes. All of the students at Golden Gate are so quick to argue. They can be so so stubborn. They’ll argue over the silliest things and then cheer each other on when they’re in agreeance. Chrissy and I watched a debate on canning take place between the Form 3’s and Form 4’s. It’s very humorous to watch them bicker with each other and try to prove their point with either myself or another teacher.

I’ve also taken on a new job. I’m in charge of dictations every week. Mr. Dadson asked me to come up with ten English words and their synonyms. Every Monday morning I post the words on the board, and all of the students are required to copy and learn the words for Friday’s dictation exam.

I’ve been taught a famous Ghanaian dance called the ‘Azonto.’ It’s one of their hip songs here, and all of the time I am asked if I know it and can show them.

It’s a strange thing, but for some reason my skin heals faster here. I have a tendency to pick at my nails and cuticles. Back home, my fingers will be sore and wrecked for days, but here they heal so quickly and I rarely have any problems with them! Random but it’s such a nice change!

I don’t know if I ever mentioned it on here, but their currency is Ghana cedis and pesewas are their coins. Their currency is almost double in worth of ours. So $50 is worth about 100 Ghana cedis. It’s made it extremely easy to budget my money and buy things for cheap. It’s also extremely fun to bargain, especially since they like to give the white people Obruni prices!

Another thing I’ve noticed is a Ghanaians habit of asking ‘Are you sure?’ It doesn’t matter if I’m asked how I am, where I’m from, what I like, etc... They always have to question it with an ‘Are you sure?’ as if I’m going to say ‘Actually, no I’m not doing well,’ or ‘Actually, I’m from Canada not America...’ It’s too funny. They’re such happy people all the time. When they’re upset, you know. They’re never upset with us, but aiyyyy I would never want them on my bad side!

It’s been raining a lot here. I’m taking it all in while it lasts because without the rain, it’s going to be hell in their humidity. And when it rains here...it rains. It can rain so hard you have to cover your ears and yell at the top of your lungs to get anyone to hear you! It’s a good thing the loud rain doesn’t last too long though... I’ve also noticed mold has formed on some of my things. A pair of shoes and a sports bra have already been thrown away because mold grew on it. I wasn’t too pleased about that!

This past weekend (October 19-21), 18 of the 20 volunteers went to visit Kakum National Park! It was absolutely beautiful. We got to do a canopy walk, and the guide took us on an hour tour through the rainforest. Unfortunately, all we really saw were some interesting looking trees he explained to us. The guide told us monkeys, elephants and many other animals are hard to spot in their rainforest because they like to stay away from humans. It normally takes a lot more than one day to be able to find anything. All of the volunteers and myself are holding out for Christmas break when we’re going to Mole National Park and we’re taking a safari! But this weekend was nice. The first night 16 of us crammed into a 2 bedroom at the Rainforest lodge, because we were lied to about the price. It was an extremely nice place to stay, and we were told it was 10 Ghana cedis per room. We verified this with the guy at the front desk multiple times, on the phone and in person. It wasn’t until the very end of the conversation did the guy say 100 cedis per room and totally threw our plans off. So we convinced the manager to let us into the 2 bedroom, priced at 180 cedis and the guy at the front desk was suspended for two weeks. Woops. The rest of the weekend we spent back at Oasis Beach Resort in Cape Coast, relaxing on the beach and getting to know more of the Cape Coast locals. I definitely think the people in Cape Coast are some of my favorites, but I’m not planning on going there again too soon. Ready for a new place!

I picked up my first personally made African dress yesterday! I love it, and I already have new material in for a skirt! Y’all better hope I don’t get too carried away with it... They’re too beautiful to resist!

I’m starting to get more and more used to the slow pace around here. It’s hard. I can’t tell you how many times I want to tell Ghanaians to “hurry up!” but they never will. It’s pointless trying. You just have to learn to shrug your shoulders, smile and carry on.

With this post coming to an end, it’s good to mention the happiness this place has already brought me. Things aren’t perfect. Far from it. But there is beauty in imperfection and that is what I have found here. America or not, it’s a beautiful place to now call home.

For the past 10 days, I was fortunate enough to get a bit of time off because a number of people from my organization went to a conference held in another state. Since I did not set time aside at the end of the trip for traveling, I decided now was the time to do it. I asked for advice from some people about where to go in this massive country with such a wide variety of topography. Having been living in the desert region of India for about a month and a half, it was time to head for colder weather, and where better to do it than the Himalayas, the mountain range infamous for having the largest mountain on the planet. Also, thanks to my coordinator and other friends, I had the skeleton of a plan for where I would go.

On Wednesday evening, October 10, I hopped on the Mewar Express, which runs Udaipur to New Delhi in 12 hours. I wanted my first overnight train experience to be positive, so I paid a little extra for the 3-Tier AC class, which means there are fewer people coming through offering/yelling chai or samosas, we are given sheets, and there are six beds to a compartment (bottom, middle, and top of one wall). It was very comfortable, and one of my fellow riders offered to look into places for me to stay in Amritsar and gave me suggestions about what I should do since the time between trains in Delhi was 8 hours. This led to my first lesson from this trip. When you travel alone, you have to be able to rely on others and do quick character assessments of people. Of course, it is important to keep a certain level of awareness or doubt in your mind, especially when they start asking for things in return.  In India, there are people called touts who frequent the train and bus stations offering “help” to tourists when in actually they usually lead them to whatever hotels have agreed to give them a commission, which are almost always more expensive than average.

I arrived at the Nuzamuddin Train Station early in the morning and went straight to my next bus station in New Delhi. 8 hours later, I got on to my train from New Delhi to Chandigarh. First stop of the trip. Chandigarh was India’s first planned city after independence and was planned by Le Corbusier, a French architect who the city into a grid with many “Sectors”. On the train, I met a very nice Siikh man who was traveling with his sister and her two kids. He gave me some suggestions about what to do and where to go in Chandigarh.

 

The next morning I wanted to figure out the best way to get to my next destination, Shimla. This ended up taking all morning (thanks to a very confusing bus system with stations in several different Sectors) but finally discovered where I needed to be the next morning. I went off to the famous Rock Garden of Chandigarh. It was constructed by Nek Chand who did so illegally but eventually was supported by the local government to finish the project. It was quite an amazing collection of rocks, sculptures, and man-made waterfalls. Within the garden, I met a group of 4 local students who were attending university, and I talked with them for quite a while because they had an English test coming up and wanted to practice. Though this did not give me a chance to practice my Hindi, we had a good time walking around the Garden and exchanging information about one another’s culture.

(Got a few pictures taken with a couple of Siikh guys who asked. Indian people really like taking pictures with foreigners, and foreigners enjoy feeling like they are a celebrity, so win-win situation)

 

After the Garden, went and quickly saw the Open Hand Monument, also designed by Le Courbusier. The significance of the Open Hand is to represent peace and unity.

 

The next morning I woke up, had breakfast at the hotel, and went to catch my bus to Shimla, a hill station. I jumped on the bus, which ended up being pretty exciting. Traveling up to Shimla was incredible; the views of the valleys, low-peaks, and apple orchards were amazing. Thanks to our driver, who I can only describe as a Siikh Santa Clause due to his massive beard and jovial nature, I had no trouble staying awake because he was driving as wildly possible. I may have been paranoid, but I’m almost positive after every time they did a death-defying pass on those narrow mountain roads, they looked back at me to see how worried I looked. 6 hours later, I arrived in Shimla and took a walk around the very steep streets of the town. There are only two or three drivable streets in Shimla; stairs are the main method of getting from here to there, which means everyone from Shimla is in very good shape because it can be very tiring to go from one side of town to the next even as a somewhat-fit 22-year old.

It turned out there wasn’t very much to do in Shimla besides walking along the Mall Road and going to the Monkey Temple. There are some treks, but most of them are a ways from the city and take several days with proper gear. Fortunately, I did manage to meet a group of travelers who I ended up hanging out with for a couple of days. They introduced me to Tibetan food, specifically Momos (Veg-stuffed dumplings) and Thukpa (Noodle Soup with Veg). Momos went on to become a staple of the trip and my future eating habits. Also, we went ventured off on random roads and explored the town as much as possible.

 

 

After taking a couple relaxing days in Shimla with the group, Andrew (recently graduated British master’s student) and I set off on a very bumpy 10-hour bus ride for Dharamshala/McLeod Ganj (It is basically one city, Dharamshala, but it is split into two for some reason. McLeod Ganj is about 10 km from Dharamshala proper), home to the exiled Tibetan government, many Tibetan refugees, and the Dalai Lama.

Despite being the most touristy location of my trip, McLeod Ganj was the favorite. There is a very relaxed, Zen vibe to the city. Buddhist monks who live in one of the several monasteries around the area are always going about town or walking through many of the trails accessible around the city. They intermingle with tourists who come to learn more about Buddhism; I met several people who were about to enter into a 10-day intensive course on Buddhism where they are not allowed to speak to anyone and meditate for hours on end.

  (McLeod Ganj)

Andrew and I visited the monastery where the Dalai Lama usually resides, Tsuglagkhang. (He was on tour in the US, unfortunately). There was a very good museum on the history of the Chinese occupation of Tibet, which detailed all of the brutalities and cultural genocide the Chinese have and still are inflicted upon the people of Tibet, including the capture and continued possession of the Panchen Lama (the chosen successor to the Dalai Lama) at the age of 6 (He is now 23). It’s truly terrible; however, the Tibetans who have been able to escape the country, traveling through the Himalayas usually with limited supplies, are still actively raising awareness about the occupation and advocating for independence from the Chinese. Tibetans are primarily a non-violent community, which is why the Chinese have been able to successfully possess the country for so long with limited resistance.

 

 

The next day, Andrew and I decided to hike to Triund, a small base camp located at about 2800 meters above sea level. Two German high school students had told us there was a waterfall on the way that was not to be missed, so we added an extra 6 KM off the path and hiked to the waterfall where we had lunch at the waterfall café. Anyway, after enjoying some chai and omelets, we headed back to the trail to Triund. The remainder of the hike was about 9 km, primarily at a very steep ascent. It took a couple stops along the way, but eventually we dragged ourselves up the stairway of stones to the top. Total amount hiked that day was between 16-18 km and 1500 m additional altitude in about 4-5 hours. But it was definitely worth it. Here’s why.

 

It turned out Triund was basically a camping site with a guesthouse and three other general supply/restaurant shacks. To make hiking easier, Andrew and I had brought limited supplies, which turned out to be a mistake because the Himalayas do get cold at night. Specifically, I only had a t-shirt, rain jacket, athletic shorts, and a Tibetan shawl, which was crucial.

 

 

The sun went down around 6:30, and the cold came very quickly. Fortunately, we had found a place run by a guy named Sunil who offered to let us stay in his store with sleeping bags with support (by support, I mean there were blankets thrown over a pile of stone), but he did have very good veg chow mein. He started a fire at sundown, and a group of travelers gathered and around to keep warm. A group of young, local shepherds and Sunil began singing Punjabi traditional and pop songs late into the night. Eventually, I hopped onto the stones, put the sleeping bag on, and “slept”.

After about a maximum of non-consecutive two hours of sleep, I woke up to the sunrise over the mountains. Andrew and I decided we were ready to get back to McLeod Ganj. The hike down only took 2 hours, though it was pretty rough on the knees since we were basically descending down a massive stone staircase.

 

My last planned destination was Amritsar, home to the Golden Temple (A massive Siikh Temple) and the India/Pakistan border. The bus from Dharamshala left at 5:00 AM and to get there from McLeod Ganj there was a bus that left at 3:30 AM. I woke up at 2:45 to walk to the bus station and realized my hostel locks the gate every night until morning. Since I had to get back by Monday morning, visiting Amritsar was not going to be possible. I found out there was a Volvo bus to New Delhi that left at 6:00 PM that evening, so I decided to take that. Spent the day wandering around McLeod Ganj drinking coffee and eating momos then bid Andrew adieu and started my long journey back.

 

I arrived in Delhi at 5:00 AM and discovered the bus station was not open (of course), but found a rickshaw driver that claimed to run a private bus that would take me direct to Udaipur from New Delhi. Anything and anyone is kind of questionable at 5:00 AM, especially when you are an exhausted solo traveler, but I went anyway because I was pretty desperate to get back. Got on the bus and was eventually told that despite the claim that this bus would go directly to Udaipur, it was in fact going to Jaipur (about 10 hour drive from Udaipur). I didn’t think it would be too much of an issue since I would still be able to get to Udaipur by Monday morning and make it to work without any issues, except for the only sleep I’d had for the past 36 hours was on a bus. I stayed on the bus until the last stop, and they had arranged for a tout to take me someplace to wait until my bus left at 9:30 PM (it was about 3:00PM at this point). After spending 6 hours in Jaipur with people who were constantly trying to sell me stuff all the while claiming not to, I was definitely ready to get back to Udaipur. I finally got to see my first Udaipur sunrise over one of the lakes as the bus was coming into town. It was amazing and was a great ending to a very memorable trip.

“When I was a girl, favorite thing in the whole wide world was to see a field and run for no reason...the sky is blue, blue for no reason.” – Bonnie Raitt

October 4-7 Cloof Wine Estate, Darling

This post is slightly outdated but I have to catch up on some of my goings on because I have a few epic ones to come that I don’t want to overshadow the also wonderful experiences that occurred earlier in the month. This particular account will recall the AWESOME weekend that was Rocking the Daisies (arial photo above). Just think the South African Lollapalozza, or Woodstock for those of you born circa 1989, basically four days of sunshine, camping, fun loving people, great food and drinks, dancing, no showers, and MUSIC! So much awesome live music, my ears literally were in paradise.

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It was so great to spend a weekend away from the city and just be surrounded by beautiful music, scenery, and people. I really felt like I was able to completely bring my mind into the present to fully enjoy the experience, neglect all worries or thoughts that existed in reality and be carefree. At Rocking the Daisies things didn’t need to be justified by reason, they were perfect just the way they were.

I will let the pictures speak for themselves here. To my fellow music lovers check out the following names if you know what is good for you:
– Jeremy Loops- a looping genius that brought the house down. Also my friends boss at Greenpop. He likes to plant trees too!
– Black Handed Kites
– Goldfish
– Black Handed Kites
– Desmond and the Tutus
– Pascal & Pierce

I have never felt so deprived of food in my entire life. I miss variety. My diet consists of nothing more than rice and water. Water all throughout the day and different kinds of rice and sauce for lunch and dinner. I have discovered that I, Aly Meisterling, am a devoted snacker. I rarely eat big meals because I snack all throughout my day. I’m embarrassed each day when I scarf my meals down like a pig in front of my roommate. I no longer have the luxury of eating whatever, whenever I want. Although I’m bound to try some interesting Ghanian meals throughout my stay, many of these meals are an all day chore. I can just picture our cook thinking “The white people like rice...that’ll do.” I miss variety passionately. Salads, candy, ice cream, bagels, mexican food, vegetables, fruit, cookies, chips, pizza, peanut butter, pasta, burgers... even and more importantly coffee. These people are up at 5am or earlier everyday. How do they function...?

So far, I have tried some neat Ghanian treats. One of the Ghanian meals I like very much is Banku. It basically looks like a big ball of mush that sits in a red sauce. I ate it with some of the students in their canteen (cafeteria) one morning. Yum. I’ve also tried somethings while on the tro tros or in town. The marketers with baskets on their heads sell plantain chips and bofrots, which are basically a Ghanian version of a doughnut. Their fruit here is to die for. I’ve tried their coconuts and pineapple and it’s amazing! Keep your fingers crossed that I don’t come back with 100 extra pounds on me!

I have learned my Ghanian local name. I looked at the 1990 calendar, and found that April 6th was on a Friday. Because I am Friday-born, my local name is Afia.

Traffic is insane. I mean literally...terrifying. Cars barely miss each other. They constantly drive on the side of the road to pass one another. They honk at any and everyone they are passing. Thank the heavens I am not driving on their roads.
Goats and chickens are also a constant. They are always walking through villages and markets.
Modesty is extremely important for the ladies here, especially at school. I feel scandalous even showing my knees.

Christianity and religion is very important here. They are always asking about whether I go to church and what my faith is. They truly don’t understand if you tell them that you don’t believe in God, or you are Buddhist or Atheist. It’s all very foreign to them.

I’ve noticed that some of the men have long nails on their left hand. Apparently it’s for scratching. I’m not quite sure why you need long nails to scratch yourself, but I suppose that’s normal...Using your right hand is extremely important here, especially for eating and  receiving or giving change and things.

Chrissy and I have been teaching on our own for almost a full two weeks. We had it arranged so that we are helping with the Form 1 class, who are the babies at our school. Between 16 and 19 years old, I’m teaching them basic definitions of grammar, reading and writing. This week’s lesson was on nouns and we’re now working our way to pronouns. Just trying to get these kids to understand me, let alone the lesson, is a challenge everyday. It amazes me how slowly these kids grow up. The way the kids at our school act is the way America’s 12 or 13 year olds act. I’ve learned to understand and accept that this really isn’t a bad thing at all. As Americans, we always say it’s good to be a kid as long as you possibly can and yet the kids are constantly pressured to grow up, go to school, get a job, start a family... I really like their mentality, I think.

As Chrissy and I have gotten to know some of the students and teachers better, I’ve been amazed by how much they know about our countries and how badly they all want to travel there. Many of the students know at least four different languages, including English, Chinese, French and their various local languages. I felt like a fool telling them I only know English fluently. They keep making promises they will teach me all of these languages. I’d sincerely like to see that happen. While the kids may be behind in school, according to America’s school standards, they certainly know much more about what’s going on in the world than most adults I know.

As much as they seem to know about other countries, they are still so envious of white people. I even heard one man tell me in a conversation that because he is African and not normal like me, things are more difficult. I was completely speechless. How could they think that?

I find it amusing how upfront and honest all of the people are here. Everywhere I go, men and women come up to me, ask to be my friend, ask for my number and want to know everything about my life. I cannot even count how many times I’ve been proposed to or asked if I was married. The students at Golden Gate have come up to both Chrissy and I, pointed to something we have or are wearing and said “I like that. Give it to me when you leave.” They will also ask us for money or insist that we buy them something when we go into town. I can’t help but laugh every time and think ‘You’ve got to be kidding me...’

Greetings are extremely important here. Every morning it is important to say hello and good morning to everyone you pass. They will often stop and ask “How are you?” or “How did you sleep?” They will not forget and will be very offended if you pass them and do not greet them.

Mr. Dadson, the school director, cracks me up. He’s not too tall and wears glasses with very thick lenses. Chrissy and I imitate him all the time. “Where are you going?” “Please, come here.” Him and the headmaster of the school are ridiculously strict with the students. They are not allowed to have boyfriends or girlfriends. Absolutely no phones or they will be kicked out for at least one term. The headmaster and sometimes even the teachers will walk around with canes, punishing the students who have not paid their dues, showed up late to class, etc. As much as I hate the idea of it, and can’t bare to watch it happen, the kids find it humorous. I think they’re so used to it throughout their childhood that it barely phases them.

One of the Form 4 boys taught me a song he wrote about his country, and we sang it to Mr. Dadson. I’m starting to get much more comfortable with all of the students, and it’s much easier to converse and goof around with them. Even though I really wanted to work with younger kids originally, I’m very grateful to know each and every one of these students. They’re all amazing individuals and have the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen.

This past weekend, (October 6-7), Chrissy and I traveled to Cape Coast to meet some of the other volunteers. We got to enjoy the beach, do some shopping and take in the very much craved western-style food. On Saturday evening, some of the volunteers chose to drink...a lot. It was extremely scary having to send one of them to the hospital at 2am. He was okay and brought back to our resort the next morning, but it wasn’t a good feeling knowing something serious could have happened and he might have had to go home. That night was a great reminder as to why I decided I wasn’t going to drink out here. It’s just not worth it. As wonderful as I think this country is, I would never want to end up in jail or seriously hurt here. Please keep myself and the 19 other volunteers I am with in your prayers.

While in Cape Coast, I was able to find a Ghanian flag in the size and material I wanted! I bought a bracelet and necklace with a symbol on it that means ‘accept God.’ They’re both beautiful! I also bought beads for my waist. Some of the girl volunteers and myself learned that the Ghanian women wear beads around their waist. While to us it is more of a fashion statement, to them it is very personal. Women wear their beads under all of their clothes. They are meant to help determine if a woman has lost or gained weight. I absolutely love mine, and I might have to bring back some more for family members and friends!

As you can probably see, I’m becoming much more familiar and comfortable with the people and surroundings here. While not everything has felt just right, I am learning to either accept or be patient with the things that I don’t understand or have to be patient with. At the end of the day, it truly is beautiful here. I cannot believe I have been here for almost an entire month. I have another 3 1/2 months to go, and I know it’s going to fly by. I’m embracing and cherishing and taking up every moment. I wish so many of you who read this could have this kind of experience. It’s one of the most liberating things I have ever done, and I am eternally grateful to all the people who helped me get here and all the Ghanian people who have taken me in as family. I love you all. Cheers to the next 3 1/2 months!

 

 

(Photo credit to Nico Pascaral)

Reciprocity
resəˈpräsətē| noun
“the practice of exchanging ideas, goods or services between two entities for their mutual benefit”

To everyone at home who is under the impression that I am galavanting all over South Africa having a marvelous time... You are right. It is my fault, however, that this is probably your only impression. A bad excuse as to why this is my first time writing about my internship is that I still am trying to wrap my head around the massive black hole that is “inclusive business”. Prior to arriving in Cape Town my perception of “inclusive business” was defined by “social entrepreneurship” and the Triple Bottom Line model (people,planet,profit). But, that was just the tip of the iceberg. A lesson learned from the UNDP report that we have been writing that dissects these concepts in the context of sub-Saharan Africa. With a general understanding of social entrepreneurship many of us think of brands such as: Toms shoes or Warby Parker sunglasses, or really any of those products that you can buy where a small percentage of the profits goes to a social or environmental cause.

First off,the players involved in this system are not just trendy brands but also, policy makers, NGOs,multinational corporations, think tanks, researchers, academics, consultancy firms.... The list goes on. And this is the general idea- there are over 4 billion people that live at the base of the socio-economic pyramid (BoP) that are currently not formally included in developed economies. But what if they were? What if multinational companies like SABMiller, PepsiCo, Nestle, Colgate, molded there business models to include these 4 billion people in their supply chains, distribution channels, and consumer base? Well by empowering the BoP through employment in supply, whether it be agribusiness or textiles or manufacturing etc., you improve their livelihood by providing a solid source of income. Including the BoP in distribution channels opens up opportunities for further employment and also facilitates entrepreneurship in disadvantaged communities. Such improved economic stability then allows for general social development in education, healthcare and housing. Which then opens up a whole new market for these companies to sell their products or services. Companies are always looking for ways to penetrate new markets... Well hello people, there are 4 billion people out there with potential purchasing power that can also help your business do more business along all three tiers!
The idea of Reciprocity.

The concept makes enough sense, and despite the obstacles that have kept this from actually already happening, is still a necessary step that the developed economies of the world have to make. The economic crash of 2008 should be enough to convince you that reform must be made. The road that we are going down is not sustainable and as populations begin to increase, particularly in the BoP, even the developed economies will start to feel the repercussions. Which is why four areas of support for this change must begin to happen:

1) Policy making- governments of developing nations must implement policies that encourage businesses to invest and do business in their countries.

2) Advocacy & Research- think tanks, consultancies, academic institutions must produce and share primary research so that the market of the BoP can be understood. Companies do not implement new initiatives without first understanding the cultures, trends, and obstacles that exist in the marketplace. They are in business to stay in business and have to allocate resources efficiently. If companies understand the BoP they will be less resistant to trying new models in that market.

3) ICT (Information and communication technologies) It can not be argued that our world isn’t becoming more and more connected and reliant on technologies for information and communication. Who reading this doesn’t own an Apple product? Not everyone needs an iPhone, but basic mobile and Internet services will help the BoP immensely.

4) Implementation support- companies need guidance and support while implementing these new projects in developing communities. Language and education barriers, lack of resources and infrastructure, limited funding, all are obstacles that companies are not able, or willing, to take on independently. As they shouldn’t, there are many non-profits and NGOs that already have the skills and connections necessary to make that process more seamless. Transparency in this field, therefore, is key to making these ideas an actual reality.

Now do you see what I mean when I say the idea or “inclusive business” is a black hole? I am sure as you read through this you can come up with holes in this model (partially because I am trying to keep this to the point), but I also hope that you still walk away from your computer screen thinking – “Shit. That actually makes sense”.

Because that my friends is what I think every day I leave my office.

Lucky for me South Africa is a hot spot for inclusive business, social enterprise, sustainable business, triple bottom line models-call it what you will- innovation. It is amazing to go into the townships and see first hand the faces that make up this BoP market I talk about, and then go back to my office and work on the big picture. It’s all for them, and I hope that I find my place in this big picture and figure out how I can contribute in my time here.

“The present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past, nor the shadow of the future”-Siddhartha

On Saturday, September 29, people all over India woke up and went about their morning routine and then went to work. After all, it is a 6-day workweek here. However, this particular Saturday many people took the day off.

For the past week, Ganesha Chaturthi, the first Vaak and Remover of Obstacles, did something that my mother is fond of doing; he took a weeklong birthday. All throughout the week, there have been decorations and lights set up, and nightly celebrations held to honor Ganesha’s birthday. The celebrations consist of loud music and people of all ages dancing. At the end of the week, the idols (all varying in size) of Ganesha that have been in prominence for the week will be escorted to the shores of Lake Pichola where the Remover of Obstacles will be pitched. They throw him into the lake because it symbolizes the concept of Moksha, liberation. It is based around a law of the universe stating “that which takes form has to become formless again”.

The day is significant to myself as well, though no one threw me into the lake. This Saturday marked my first full month/4 weeks in Udaipur. Time can be difficult to manage when you are trying to accomplish so many things at once. Being present and mindful are prominent Eastern ideas that could improve the quality of life for a lot of Westerners. We are obsessed with being busy and splitting our minds in 15 different directions, rarely giving our undivided attention to someone/something besides work. Appreciation for living is lost. Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk who won a Nobel Peace Prize, explains this act of mindfulness through a concept he calls, “doing the dishes for the sake of doing the dishes”.

 

I’ve found a lot of Indian culture is centered around the idea of being present and conscious. One particular example is eating. Generally, people eat with their right hand here, and by eating with their right hands I mean, most meals are served with chapatti, circular pieces of unleavened bread that you can grab your main dish with. Papa Ji (the father of the man who owns Chandra Niwas) explained to me that they choose to eat with their hands because you appreciate your food more when you physically touch it as opposed to with utensils. It’s absolutely true. I’ve become more conscious of eating and have been eating better proportions because I’m more aware of what I’m eating. I’ve also learned that it is basically impossible to not get your computer dirty while eating with a chapatti, so multi-tasking without some collateral damage is unavoidable.

 

One more insight into Rajasthani Indian life. Washers are uncommon and dryers don’t exist. The machines require two things that are in high demand and limited supply, water and electricity. This means all clothes washing is done by hand and all drying takes place either on a line or with clothes hanging all over your room on whatever you can find, which is what I do. I’m not a fan of laundry with machines, and I expected to loathe doing it by hand in a bucket. However, I’ve found it’s not too bad. Once again, it becomes an appreciation for your clothes by having to manually wash all of them even if it does take a very long time and you end up soaking wet.

 

Namaste!