It's Sunday afternoon, and I'm sitting in a smoothie shop in Osu, eating a chicken wrap with ranch dressing, drinking a berry-flavored smoothie, and using the free wireless. Am I really still in Ghana?

Yes, if only for a few more days. Tomorrow morning I start the COS, or Close of Service, process. It's going to be three days of unpleasant medical procedures, frustrating dealings with the admin unit, and meetings with various PC staff. I don't fly out until Thursday evening, but everything has to be done by the end of the day on Wednesday as Thursday is a U.S. holiday.

The last few months have gone by so quickly that I haven't had time to stop and reflect. Despite the problems I had in the last six months of my service, everything at site wrapped up rather nicely. I finished the rainwater collection system, the world map mural on the school building, and the wheelchair ramp at the junior high. I left Fufulso feeling good about the work I've done and hope that I'll be able to make it back to Northern Ghana someday soon.

Like I said, my flight leaves Thursday evening. I'll fly to Washington, then a few hours later fly to St. Louis via Chicago. From there, I'll go to visit the Leonards in Carbondale, then back up to St. Louis for a few days. I'm planning to drive down to Dallas on the 17th, and will be there until the 21st, when I drive down to Austin.

It's going to be a crazy couple of weeks. I can't wait!

I’m really bad at goodbyes, and I have a lot of them ahead of me for the next month and a half.

Last week we had our COS (Close of Service) Conference for the 2008-2010 Omnibus group. Most of the people I trained with were together again one last time at the Coconut Grove Beach Resort in Elmina. Those who weren’t able to make it were missed very much, especially Ann Paisley and Consuelo, who are both in my prayers. That last morning was hard for me. Some of the group is leaving early because of one reason or another; it was my last time to see them. It’s one thing to say goodbye to one person, but quite another to have to say goodbye to a bunch of your friends all at once. There’s no time to say what you want to say. So to all my Peace Corps friends who are leaving, farewell and we’ll see each other again soon.

Though the goodbyes were making me sad, I did get some good news last week: I received and accepted an invitation to serve as a Team Leader for AmeriCorps NCCC (National Civil Community Corps). I'll be based in Vinton, IA for 11 months starting in January of 2011. It feels good to know what comes next, even if it is only for the next year. I'll leave Ghana on November 11th and will have exactly two months off before I report to the NCCC campus in Vinton.

For now I’m back at site, getting ready to wind things down, pack my things, and move on to the next adventure. Yesterday being Friday, I knew both of the chiefs would be home, so I went around with Assemblyman, Madam Hawa, and Mr. SS to inform them and the other opinion leaders that I’ll be leaving the village in early November. It didn’t take long for the news to spread. “Mantenso, are you really leaving? When are you coming back?”

In Gonjaland, and most other parts of Ghana, when someone is leaving your house, you send them off by saying some variation of, “May God send you safely” or “May God send you safely there and back.” I like this second phrase better than the first. It acknowledges that you’ll be back, even if the time of return in unknown. I don’t know when I’ll be back in Fufulso, but I will someday, and that’s what I tell everyone. My landlady is in her final month of pregnancy with her second child. She told me yesterday, “When you come back, I want to have five children to show you.” It makes me feel special to know that I’ll be missed, and hopeful that I’ll have the money to come back here one day soon.

A little update on the projects:

The rainwater collection system at the school is complete, and thanks to some heavy rains in the last couple weeks, the tanks are full. That’s 20,000 liters of water ready for the students when they return for the new school term.

I’m waiting for the headmaster to return and school to open in order to start on the wheelchair ramp. I don’t really have funding, but there’s a bunch of left over blocks, sand, and gravel from the construction of the tank platforms for the rainwater system, so we’ll see what we can do.

The world map I’m painting on the side of one of the primary school buildings is about 90% complete. I should finish it this coming week if the weather cooperates.

I’m down to one rabbit, but she’s healthy. I’ll pass her off to Madam Hawa when I leave.

In one finally attempt to spread the word about moringa, I’m nursing a bunch of seedlings to distribute throughout the village.

And (DRUMROLL) – still no guinea worms to be found.

One final story.

I was at the roadside one morning in early August, buying something for breakfast. I remember that it was a Monday, because it was Buipe market day, and a bunch of lorries were lined up at the roadside waiting to go to the market. All of a sudden I heard a crash – a small child was trying to cross the street and was struck by a speeding car. The car then swerved off the road and struck another man and child before crashing into a billboard. The boy who was hit on the road died the next morning. He was the grandson of one of the Red Cross Mothers I work with. The man who was hit died a week later from his injuries.

Speeding cars have always been a problem in this community. We’re on the main truck route that passes through the country, so everything from private cars to big, overloaded, articulated trucks heading to Burkina Faso and beyond pass through the village. Because the road is fairly nice at this point in the journey, drivers pass through as though there’s no village, some not even tapping the brakes. The problem of speeding used to be mitigated by the presence of the police barrier on the south end of town. But about six months ago, headquarters decided to move the barrier a few kilometers outside town, despite protests from the villagers. For those six months, the leaders of the community have been appealing to the District Assembly for help, either to move the barrier back or provide speed ramps. The community members said they would build their own speed ramps if the DA wouldn’t, but the DA insisted that they were working on it, that the community should just be patient and the speed ramps would come.

Well, the death of two people because of a speeding car lit a fire under a lot of people. Two weeks after the accident, a crew suddenly appeared and quickly built some shoddy speed bumps. Within two weeks, these speed bumps were reduced to almost nothing. Some cars don’t even slow down for them anymore. Most of the people I talked to dismissed it as another example of the failure of the government to answer to the needs of the community. No electricity, no clinic, no latrines – of course there aren’t speed ramps either.

On Thursday, I woke to find a large group of men from the community taking matters into their own hands. I don’t know who provided the cement, but they decided to build their own speed bumps. They’re not the greatest speed bumps, and I don’t know how long they’ll last, but they’re definitely slowing cars down. I have a feeling there’ll be some backlash from somebody for taking matters into their own hands like this, but right now, drivers are going a lot slower when they pass through Fufulso.

It’s time to post something new on this here blog. I’ve been so very, very bad about posting for the last year, if not more. A lot has happened, both good and bad, but I don’t really feel up to trying to fill you all in. Not in this forum anyway.

Let me tell you wants going on now. I’m in the final stages of constructing a rainwater harvesting system at the two schools in Fufulso. I found some used polytanks in Tamale, and was able to write a grant to get them and the other materials I needed. When the system is complete, there will be four 5000-litre tanks between the two schools (one at the junior high and three at the primary school). I had a guy in Tamale fabricate the gutters for me and come a hang them properly, and a local mason and his assistant made the platforms for the tanks. It’s been kind of stressful running around getting things organized, but I’ve had a lot of fun. It’s nice to have a project come together so nicely and so quickly. It’s been about three months’ work start to finish. Even though the water won’t last through the dry season, the tanks will definitely help the students have access to safe drinking water for part of the year. The district coordinator for UNICEF’s I-WASH program (a water and sanitation initiative) has expressed interest in replicating the project in other villages, so I’m working on a report for him to help him do just that.

I’m also trying to figure out a way to build a wheelchair ramp at the junior high. Wheelchairs were donated to two disabled girls in Form 1 but because there’s no ramp, they have to leave their chairs outside all day and can’t move around once they go in.

Things are coming to an end so quickly. I have just under four months left in my service and time is flying by. Ramadan will begin in the next couple weeks, which will turn everything upside down for a month. Then COS (Close of Service) conference in early September, my birthday bash in October, then COS in November or December (I won’t know the exact date until the COS conference).

What next? I’ve applied for a position as a Team Leader for AmeriCorps’ NCCC (National Civil Community Corps). If I get the position, I will be leading a group of 8-12 volunteers between 18-24. We’d be based on one of five campuses in the US and would do a series of service projects together throughout the region for about 10 months. So everyone do me a favor and send me some good luck vibes. This sounds like exactly what I want right now; a perfect transition from Peace Corps to whatever comes next.

That’s all for now. I’ll try to post some pictures on flickr soon.

Adios

This past fall I started a Health Club at the Junior High in my village. The headmaster and other teachers were very supportive and the students very active in the club. We spent much of last term talking about HIV and other related issues. This term, I decided we would spend more time talking about sanitation and hygiene, especially since the environmental health people were getting ready to come in for CLTS (Community Led Total Sanitation).

Well, CLTS flopped. The opinion leaders (chiefs, elders, etc) of the village were unwilling to even attend a community meeting to discuss it, even though we rescheduled multiple times to accommidate them. I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty pissed off about that. But I'm taking solace in what the students have been up to.

For our first meeting of the new term, I talked to them about how to build soak-away pits. These are pits dug behind the bathing areas (or other places where water drains) then filled with stones, which help eliminate mosquito breeding areas and disgusting stagnant water smells. The students helped me to fix my own, after which I gave them a challenge. I have a nice new Adidas soccer ball that someone sent me, and I told the students that if they built at least 30 soak-away pits, I would donate it to the school team.

Well, soccer (or football, as we call it here) is pretty much a religion in Ghana. People are especially excited right now because Ghana's Black Stars are about to go head to head with defending champions Egypt at the African Cup of Nations final, tonight at 1600 GMT. It only took the students a week and a half to get the 30 pits dug and filled with stones. If they can do thirty, why can't they do more? I therefore told them as I was giving them the football that if they reach 50 in the next couple weeks, I'll come up with something else to give them.

What I'm thinking is jerseys. Here's where you guys come in. Does anyone know of a group which would like to donate two sets of jerseys to my kids? If so, contact me via email, blog, facebook, phone, telepathy, or whatever.

That's all for now. I have to go find a good place to watch the game. Super Bowl? Who cares. Let's go Black Stars!

PS - I just uploaded a bunch of pictures from December and January to flickr - http://www.flickr.com/photos/hannahefrank

A Belated Merry Christmas from Northern Ghana, where instead of snow we have dust storms; instead of stockings hung over the fireplace, we hang old socks and polytin bags over the (broken) AC unit; and instead of staying up for midnight mass, we stay up playing on a broken guitar until we hear the 4:30 call to prayer from the mosque.

Oh Peace Corps. Last year for Christmas, I was stuck at my site by myself (our Safety and Security Officer put us on Standfast - meaning don't leave site - during the holidays due to the run-off presidential election). This year, I was talked into filling in for the PCVL (the volunteer leader who takes care of the Tamale Sub Office) during the transistion period between our old and new PCVL. It was a lot of work but it sure was nice. I played Santa, with beef jerky rather than candy as stocking stuffers (we PCVs don't get a whole lot of protein). I made pancakes on Christmas morning, with nutella on top. Then I spent ten hours cooking for nine other volunteers and two visiting RPCVs. Why so long? Well, first I had to make my own cheese. Then I had to grind my own beef. Then came the pies (both pumpkin and chocolate cream), during the baking of which we ran out of propane for the oven. Thankfully, everyone around us is Muslim, so we were able to get it refilled even on Christmas Day, after which we continued the cooking. I made a killer salad (with ACTUAL LETTUCE, not cabbage), some 15-bean soup (thanks to the care package from Granny), and rounded it all out with some lasagne. It's a lot of work, but I highly recommend making your own ricotta for some lasagna some day. It was amazing. I then raised my glass to toast a successful year, and finally drank the mini bottle of Glenlivet that Erica sent to me a couple months back.

I hope you all had a Merry Christmas back home, and welcomed in the New Year in style. After Christmas, I headed down to Consuelo's site in the Nkwanta North district of the Volta Region. Looking at a map it's not that far, but it was quite an ordeal to get there. I left the office at 4.30 in the morning to catch the Metro bus to Yendi. In Yendi I had to wait several hours for the cargo lorry to fill, then road it to Bimbilla. In Bimbilla, I had to wait for the "bone shaker" to fill (a very special form of transport - an old Datsun pickup with benches in the bed under a welded on canopy), which I road as far as Damanko. Here, I crossed the river into the Volta region, and immediately upon crossing started getting harassed and swindled. I then took a taxi from Damanko to Kpassa, where I got into an argument with the taxi driver who wanted 3 cedis to drive me two miles up the road to Jumbo, Consuelo's village. I was just about ready to walk when a tro driver decided to take pity on me. He drove me there for free. Merry Christmas!

I had a wonderful time at Consuelo's eating lots of good food and catching up with a good friend. Consuelo was my neighbor during homestay but I've only seen her a couple of times since then. I stayed with her until New Year's Day, then headed back to Tamale to get started on my resolutions.

What are my resolutions this year? Well, lets see...

1) Start over with the rabbits. I got some good tips from Consuelo, whose bunny is healthy and pregnant. Hopefully I can get some good breeding stock and try again this spring.

2) Have a lovely garden. I've started composting, and the women at the roadside are helping by providing me with food scraps. Hopefully I'll have some good compost ready by the time the rains come again.

3) Become a market lady, complete with market lady hat. Handing out moringa seeds didn't really work out, so I've decided to start nursing moringa seedlings to sell in my tiny little market. They'll only be five pesawas (about three cents), but I want to sell them rather than give them away so that people will actually take care of them. My moringa trees are now way about the roof. I should have cut them back but they look so pretty.

4) Improve sanitation. A lofty goal, but that's why I'm here. Last term with the JSS Health Club, we focused on HIV/AIDS. This term (which starts mid-January), I want to focus on sanitation. To start with, I'm going give the students a challenge. I will have them help me build a new soak away pit at my house (this allows water from the bathroom to a place to soak into the ground, thereby eliminating mosquito breeding pools), then have them start building there own throughout the community. If they build X-number of pits, they'll get a new football. I've get to come up with the numbers and the prizes but the couple of students I've told are very excited about it. It'll be a good way for the students to help get the community ready to take on CLTS (Community Led Total Sanitation).

5) Keep Guinea Worm away. We may not have any active cases right now, but constant vigilance is necessary to transition from most endemic village in Ghana to recently freed. Central Gonja District is the last stronghold of Guinea Worm in Ghana and one of the last in the world, and I want it gone. Now.

6) Get going on this truck drivers' education thing. Me and Liz and Maria want to do more HIV education for the long-distance drivers who pass through our village on the main Tamale-Kumasi road. We're going to start next month by training some of the tea and kenkey sellers as peer educators.

7) Not worry so much that I'm not doing enough. I need to learn to be okay with the fact that not everything has gone as planned so far, and the idealistic plans I had when I came here just might not work out. I want to enjoy my last year in Ghana, not suffer through it.

8) Post on my blog more. Oddly, this will probably be the hardest of these resolutions to keep. But I'm gonna try.

That's all for now. Today I'm heading back to the village after a couple weeks away, and hopefully I can get cracking on a few of these. Time will tell.

Happy New Year everybody!

One night, about two weeks ago, I was sleeping peacefully in my hammock when I suddenly woke up and realized that I was FREEZING. I got up, went inside, and curled up in bed with my two-yard as a blanket. The next morning, it was still cold (this is all relative of course – it was probably only about 65 degrees) and a haze had settled over the village. It was then that I realized – Harmattan is here. For a couple of months each year in West Africa, winds from the north bring cool nights and dry, dusty days. Though it’s a lot easier to sleep now, the dust is more than a little annoying. By the end of the day, even if I’ve done nothing but sit at the Guinea Worm center, I’m as orange as an Oompa Loompa. Then there are the itchy eyes and runny nose – a result of who-knows-what being tossed up into the air by the winds. But even with all these problems, it’s still preferable to the hot season that follows it.

I’ve just returned to Tamale from a week in Accra. The main reason for my trip was to see the PCMO for my mid-service medical exam. This is not quite as exciting as it sounds. Though the exam itself takes very little time, we have to be there for three days so that we can go poo three times. Yay, stool samples! I passed with flying colors. I also weighed myself on an accurate scale for the first time since arrival. I was 135 when I came in, and even after several days of gorging myself on the food in Accra, I was only 121 when I weighed myself on Wednesday. And here I was thinking that I had gained back all that weight I lost in January and February (I got down as low as 110 at one point, according to the shea nut scale at Zak’s place, which is probably not that accurate). No wonder my jeans are falling off. We also had to visit the dentist as part of our exam. Let’s just say that it wasn’t nearly as thorough as a dental cleaning in the U.S. But they did have free mochachinos in the lobby.

The powers that be decided to bless me with an awesome schedule for mid-service medical. I was scheduled for the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday before Thanksgiving, making it possible for me to attend the Thanksgiving festivities at the Ambassador’s Residence. This year, the Ambassador decided to extend the invitation to all volunteers, and even though they wouldn’t pay for transport or lodging, Peace Corps did set us all up with host families for Wednesday and Thursday. I stayed with a nice USAID family in a very nice house. The food at the Ambassador’s was AMAZING. In addition to twelve turkeys, there were copious amounts of mashed potatoes and gravy, carrots, green beans, salad, stuffing, and cornbread. And of course, the pies – pumpkin and pecan (thanks to the Ambassador’s wife’s foresight – she ordered pecans from Waco in September). We also had sangria in addition to the usual offerings at the bar. I somehow managed not to explode, and when I got back to the house at which I was staying, I was just in time for the family’s dinner too. I went to bed bloated and groaning, but happy as a clam.

Needless to say, it was difficult for me to get on that bus to Tamale on Friday morning. I’ve been in a “sophomore slump” of sorts. Apparently it’s not uncommon for volunteers to have existential crises around the one-year mark, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying. It just seems like I’m not getting enough done. The rabbits are dead, victims of some mysterious rabbit disease. The HIV programme for truck drivers hasn’t gotten off the ground yet for a number of reasons. And of course, there are the saboteurs. The emergency water system that UNICEF donated was finally operational for a couple of weeks when it suddenly stopped working. As it turns out, some … jerk cut the main pipe with a cutlass. This isn’t your average PVC pipe – it took effort to get through this one. There was no way it was accidental, nor could it have been a small boy or woman. I have my ideas about who it was, but lacking proof, there’s not much I can do but wait for the chiefs to find and punish the culprit. And we all know how long things take here.

Understandably, I’m pissed off. Before I left for Accra, I was a wreck. But getting away for several days, and especially, talking to other volunteers helped me to realize that even though some things are not going so well, I still have a lot of stuff that IS going well, and plans for other things to keep me occupied. First of all, there’s still no Guinea Worm in Fufulso/Junction, and only a couple of cases for the district in October (none so far for November). We’re still not in the clear yet – we have to wait until March to congratulate ourselves. But it’s looking good so far. The Health Club I started at the Junior High is going really well. We have about 35 members, and about 15-20 of those are really excited about and committed to the club. We’re working on putting together a program for World AIDS Day (December 1st), which will include a drama and HIV quiz for the rest of the students at the school. The Health Club kids wrote the drama themselves and it’s fantastic. They’re also helping with Guinea Worm case searches and I have some other ideas for how they can help me with educating the rest of the community on different health issues. The moringa trees that I planted in April are now taller than the house (at least on one side of the house – on the other side some kids destroyed the fences and the seedlings got chopped by goats). My plan is to start a compost heap now so that by the time the rains come again, I can take down the moringa fences and make a vegetable garden around the trees. I’m thinking tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, green beans, squash, and carrots. I’m getting hungry just thinking about it.

Getting down to Accra made me realize how badly I need a proper vacation. Since it’s really expensive to fly to America, it’s looking like I might hop up to Europe for the first couple weeks of February. Plans are still in the works for that. I know – I’m going to freeze. But at least I won’t be melting for a couple of weeks.

Anyway, I think that’s all I’ve got to say right now. I just posted some pictures on flickr, including Halloween and Thanksgiving pictures, and some cute shots of adorable African children. See them here – http://www.flickr.com/photos/hannahefrank

I hope you all enjoyed your Thanksgiving and have a great Holiday Season.

Hannah

One year ago today, I walked into the lobby of a Sheraton hotel in Philadelphia, ready to start the next adventure. Here I am, still in Ghana a year later and wondering how the time went by so quickly. I’m sorry to my friends and family back home – I’ve been SO bad about keeping yall up to date on what’s going on in my little village in the Northern Region. But consider this – I went on the BBC website yesterday to read the news and I didn’t understand a damn thing. It was all gibberish to me. I’ve missed so much that I don’t know what the heck is going on anymore. But it’s been worth it to disconnect for a while. I’ve gotten to the point where, when I travel out of my little powerless, (semi!) waterless, toiletless village, I find myself itching to get back.

But enough reflecting. You want to know what’s going on in Fufulso/Junction.

First. The rabbits. Or I should say rabbit. I was finally able to get some bunnies from a friend of Maria’s in her village. Unfortunately, about a week after I bought the two girls and one boy, two of them got sick and died. So as of right now I only have one girl bunny. And bunnies have a strange way of not reproducing on their own. I’m planning on getting some more but I keep getting distracted.

UNICEF’s emergency water treatment plant that they decided to send to my village is officially up and running, though no one is using it yet. It’s still the rainy season, so people have rainwater in their houses and aren’t fetching yet. We’re prepping people to start fetching from the system though. Hopefully they will. I tasted some of the water out of the tap. It’s nice. It’s amazing how a simple filtration system can make 2800 g/mL of fecal colliform just disappear.

The guinea worm mural is also finally happening. It only took 4 months, but I finally got the money from the Carter Center to buy the paints for the project. One of the teachers from the primary school is a pretty good artist and has volunteered to help me. And the Junction chief is letting us paint it on the side of his house. Of course, this means we’ll probably have to paint one at the Fufulso chief’s house too, but we’ve got plenty of paint for now.

The last couple months have been really hard for me. I haven’t been able to get a lot of work done. First of all, it’s rainy season. That means lots of rain. And when there’s rain, it’s time to farm. Even if I wanted to get stuff done, most of the people in my village are spending every daylight hour at their farms. I helped with my landlord’s groundnut harvesting, but other than that I’m pretty useless on a farm. School is also on break, so I can’t do anything there. Then there was Ramadan, which lasted until about a week ago, meaning everyone was exhausted during the day and no one really wanted to do anything. On top of all that, I was traveling a lot this summer due to helping with the pre-service training for the new group of volunteers that arrived in June. Then, after swearing-in, one of the new volunteers came to stay with me for a while. Turns out he was allergic to the house he was supposed to live in (specifically to the bat shit seeping through the ceiling and down the walls due to an extreme infestation of bats and the fact that the house had been empty for nine months) and Peace Corps was trying to find out what to do with him. So instead of staying in Accra, he came and hung out up here. They wanted to put him in a village near me that needs a volunteer, but the house they wanted him to stay in there had had bats at some point and there was a little bit of residual poo making his eyes itch, so they had to ditch that idea. It was fun to have another American to hang out with for a while and I was sad to see him go after three weeks at my site. Especially since they decided to transfer him out of Ghana. He left on Tuesday for his new home. Jamaica. That’s right, his new country is Jamaica. And his site is ON THE BEACH. I’m not going to lie, I’m kinda jealous. I also don’t know what to do with myself now that I’m alone again.

I’ve been in Kumasi for the past week for a PEPFAR (President's Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief) conference. It’s given me a lot of ideas for projects to keep myself busy. The biggest is a series of programs I want to put together with the District Health Management Team to target the long-distance truck drivers. As you may recall, my village lies at a major junction on the “highway” between Kumasi and Tamale, the main route for drivers heading north to Burkina Faso. A lot of drivers pass the night at the roadside in my village, and like many young men, they like to … have fun before they move on. The idea would be to train the tea sellers who work the roadside at night as peer educators, maybe even getting them to start selling condoms at their tea stands (since the pharmacies are not open at night for them to buy condoms), then have a weekly educational program on HIV/AIDS, possibly even getting the nurses involved so we can do VCT (Voluntary Testing and Counseling). It’s not like we can tell them, “Hey, come get tested tomorrow!” They’ll be gone by morning. Anyway, it’s going to be a lot of work to get this project rolling. But I think Liz (the new volunteer in Yapei, my market town) and Maria are on board to help.

That’s about it for now. Let me end on a humorous note by saying that watching my 50-something-year-old Ghanaian housewife counterpart learn how to demonstrate how to use a female condom was definitely the highlight of the PEPFAR conference.

PS - I'm thinking about the future. Would I sorta count as a grad student if I went back for another bachelors then a masters? Thinking about following in Kimmie's (and Mom and Dad and Linda) footsteps and going to nursing school. And the best nursing school in the country just so happens to be in the city in which I want to live and has a graduate entry program...

This week was one of those weeks that reminded me how lucky I am. I'm down in Kukurantumi helping out with the training for the new group of Peace Corps volunteers who arrived the first week of June. My time on duty right now just so happened to coincide with President Obama's visit to Ghana. I didn't think we (the Peace Corps) would get to do anything with the President, considering how tight his schedule was for this visit. But three days before he arrived, as I was on my way south for my last round of training duties, I got a very exciting message -

"Peace Corps volunteers will have the opportunity to attend the departure ceremony for President Obama in Accra on Saturday." Wow.

I wasn't expecting much. We are after all just volunteers. There was no way we were going to get special treatment at such an event. But as we discovered when we arrived at the Airport was there was a special standing section for Peace Corps volunteers and other important people (ie - Embassy staff etc) just a few yards away from the podium upon which President Obama would speak. Double Wow. We ARE special.

I thought that would be the end of the specialness. I was wrong. Here is a short excerpt from his short speech to the crowd gathered to see him off...

I want to recognize our Peace Corps volunteers who are here. (Applause.) You know, Ghana was the very first nation to host young people from the Peace Corps. And for decades, our two nations have formed vital partnerships and lasting friendships because of this program. So all of you in the Peace Corps, you are doing an outstanding job and we're proud of you. (Applause.)

(the whole speech, both President Atta Mills and President Obama's can be found at http://www.fosterfollynews.com/news/2009July11PresidentLeavesGhana.php)

The part where it says (Applause) is a gross understatement. We went crazy. If you read the whole speech, you'll discover that not only did Peace Corps Ghana get a shout-out from the President, but we were thanked for our service directly after the country of Ghana and President Atta Mills.

And it gets better still. After the speeches were over and the national anthems sung, Obama got down and came to shake our hands. I wasn't able to push my way to the railing to get a handshake, but I did get one from Mrs. Obama. Triple Wow.

So thank you, President Obama. Thank you thank you thank you. I feel loved.

I'll put up some pics on flickr later on. I don't have my laptop with me to transfer them.

That's right. I'm on the lookout for a couple mama rabbits and a daddy rabbit to start my rabbit colony in Fufulso. This was a decision I made just a few weeks ago at our In-Service Training. Someone was talking about raising rabbits as an alternative livelihood project. You see, rabbits breed quickly, are very tasty and nutritious, and sell for a relatively good price of six Ghana cedis (about $4) a piece. I'm going to start experimenting with raising some at Madam Hawa's house and if they thrive, I'll start trying to get some of the people in my village interested in trying it too.

I've got a lot of plans like this in the works right now. The Guinea worm cases are finally slowing (we've only had 15 cases so far for April), so I finally have time to do and think about other things. Some of these other things are...

1) Planting moringa seedlings and promoting them in town

2) Painting murals for both Guinea Worm and HIV/AIDS awareness

3) Starting a student health club

4) Meeting with the District Assembly (once they finally get decide upon a new District Chief Executive for the new administration) to find out how I can help with any district health or WATSAN initiatives.

5) Promoting rainwater harvesting and improving harvesting capabilities at various places in the village

6) Finish my GPS mapping of the village

7) Community Led Total Sanitation - aka, promoting and helping with the construction of household latrines and soak-away pits (to get rid of mosquito breeding grounds)

And on and on.

It seems I have a lot on my plate. Yet somehow, I don't really feel like I'm doing much right now. Part of that is the rains are starting to come small small, so people are starting to go to farm all day, making it difficult to get people to come to meetings and help with other projects. But it's nice to have a bit of a break. Last month, I was able to do a little traveling. I had to go to Accra for medical, then a planning meeting for the upcoming PST, then WATSAN IST in Kumasi, with a couple of days at the beach in there somewhere. Check out flickr for pictures of me bodysurfing and looking like a badass in a matching outfit with my counterpart.

I'm hoping that I'll be able to get at least a few of these projects off the ground before the newbies come in June. I just found out on Thursday that I'm going to be one of the trainers for the new group, so I'll be going down to Kukurantumi quite a bit in the next few months. My friend Alice is also studying abroad in Accra this summer and planning to come to my site for the first couple weeks of August. And some cousins are going to be in country at some point as well. So yeah, I'm going to be busy busy busy. But that's a helluva lot better than bored bored bored.

Leopold is nice and healthy, though he fails at catching the mouse in my kitchen. Maybe I should feed him less.

Life, in general, is good these days. I can finally sleep inside again (sometimes), though chilling in my hammock just before bed is still my favorite part of the day.

Okay, I'm heading back to the village now. Check out the photos (http://www.flickr.com/photos/hannahefrank).

Adios.

I posted some new pictures on flickr today. http://www.flickr.com/photos/hannahefrank

I'll update the blog for real on Sunday afternoon.

In my last entry, I mentioned a little boy named Jabiru. The other Guinea Worm workers jokingly refer to him as my little husband, because I’m always asking about him and making sure he gets toffees when he comes to be bandaged.

Well, when I returned from my weekend in Tamale, I was happy to learn that both of Jabiru’s worms are now completely out and the sores are healing well. He is so much happier now that the excruciating pain is over.

What I didn’t expect was what happened yesterday. As I was returning to my house from yet another trip to the school latrine, I heard someone yell, “MANTENSO!” (that’s my Ghanaian name). I looked up and saw Jabiru, running full tilt towards me across the football pitch. This little boy, who last week couldn’t walk because of the pain, was running again. And quickly. I took him to the house and gave him a lollipop and a bouncy ball.

So even though I’m suffering from a major case of the runs and am still without a latrine, I can’t ignore that I’m part of something amazing. We’re so close to eradicating Guinea Worm, not only in this country but in the world. Hopefully this is the last time Jabiru, and all the other small children in my village, will have to deal with Guinea Worm.

Okay, off to find the masons, who are dodging me instead of working on my shitter.

I’ve been sitting at the computer for a few hours now, trying to figure out a way to convey to you some of what I’ve been going through in the last two months in one short blog entry. I’ve decided it’s impossible. So I’ll tell a few stories and leave it up to you to come visit and see for yourself what it’s like to live in a rural Ghanaian village.

I arrived at the Tamale Sub Office (TSO) yesterday morning. I haven’t taken a day off in over a month (day off in this sense meaning getting out of the village, because even if I’m just at the house reading, I’m not relaxing, because there’s always something going on around me). In order to preserve my mental health, I decided to come here for the weekend, to spend some quality time with electricity, toilets, showers, and other things I don’t have at my site. I splurged on some cheddar (a small piece was 9 ghana cedies – more than my 6 ghana cedi daily pay) and made some chicken fajitas and jollof rice for dinner. It was just me and Mike (filling in for Allison as PCVL for the weekend – she’s at one of the ISTs). After dinner, I browsed through the library and found a collection of Hemingway stories. What a way to spend the day. 24 hours later, I am feeling so much better. I’ve been under way too much stress, so taking a day for myself was amazing. And I have another 24 hours before I’m supposed to go back to site, so I’m going to live it up (and post some pictures and words, of course).

The major reason for my stress is Guinea Worm. Fufulso/Junction is still leading the country with the highest number of active cases. When I left on Saturday, we had 25 cases for February so far. It’s not a pleasant disease. Because we’re leading the country, the Carter Center and the Ghana Guinea Worm Eradication Program (GWEP) are throwing a lot of resources our way. This includes 1) a “stop team” – five guys who have come to stay in the village and help with the daily activities that are needed to stop the current outbreak from causing the disease to spread. The team is living in my compound, which makes for a much louder, busier environment for me 2) a treatment center, consisting of a couple of large tents, lots of bandages and antiseptic, and one awesome technical advisor, Mr. S.S. (he won’t tell me what the S.S. stands for – he says it’s his secret name). 3) Weekly nighttime case searches, conducted by me, the stop team, community health nurses from the clinic in Yapei, and whoever comes down from the GWEP office in Tamale. 4) New dam guards, to ensure the women filter not only in their homes but also at the waterside when they fetch. 5) Lots of education – at the schools, in the homes, and at big events, like the huge concert/drama thing we had this Friday. 6) And on and on.

Because of all this, just about every day is spent doing something Guinea Worm related. I’m glad to be doing so much in a way, because I can say that I’m part of something historical – we’re very close to eliminating Guinea Worm not just in Ghana but in the world, and it’s not everyday that a disease gets eradicated. But at the same time, the constant work is really starting to wear on me. I’ve been having trouble sleeping (lots of work and emotional stress + really really hot nights + cultural adaptations = sleepless nights). And while I like going to help at the treatment center, it’s very depressing to walk into the tent and see every bench full of small children suffering from Guinea Worm at various stages. There’s one little boy that I’ve become rather attached to.

His name is Jabiru. He’s three years old and has a Guinea Worm coming out of each foot. Sometimes it’s takes several of us to hold him still to change his bandages. I usually give him toffees if he’s a good boy while we’re dressing his wounds, but sometimes even that doesn’t help. Like earlier this week, when he bit me while I was holding him still for bandaging. If you have a strong stomach, check out the pictures I’m posting on flickr today. It’s going to be difficult getting rid of GW completely for us, as we have no safe water source. Dam water is notoriously unhealthy - not only does it harbor GW, but lots of fecal mater ends up in the water, thanks to the cattle and donkeys and free-ranging small boys. Because our village sits smack dab on the water divide, drilling boreholes isn’t a realistic option. All their attempts (including one as recent as this month) have come up dry. The White Volta is only 4 miles or so away as the crow flies, but politics and economics mean that we’re not going to be getting water piped in from there anytime soon (just like the lights – power poles arrived three days before the election, but not a single line has arrived since then). That leaves us with a few hand-dug wells and a handful of primitive rainwater collections systems. But these are all part of why I’m here – to work with the village to either solve these problems or find a way to live with them.

On a more positive note, the latrine is finally under construction. John (my Peace Corps boss) came for a site visit last Saturday and ripped my landlord a new one for not having already completed the project. So hopefully by this time next week I’ll have somewhere to poop that’s not a six-minute walk from my house (and more importantly, is accessible at night). I also managed to get rid of the river of sewage flowing outside my bedroom window. All the way from the compound drains from one hole (bathwater, dishwater, wash water….) and it makes quite a smell mess. So we used the broken pots from our ceramic filter distribution (UNICEF donated a ceramic filter for every household in the village) to make a soak-away pit. You dig a hole where the water drains, put rocks (or in this case, ceramic pieces) in the hole, cover with a screen or sheet metal and cover with dirt. The water goes in the hole and the rocks/ceramic shards help the water soak into the ground in a much cleaner manner. Not only does this help with the smell, but it also means that you’ve eliminated another mosquito breeding ground. Score one for the community health volunteer.

And joy of joys, my kitchen is finally operational. I broke down and bought a three-burner gas stove (it runs on a propane cylinder). Though initially expensive, in the long run it’s cheaper than charcoal, as it only costs about 5 ghana cedis to refill the cylinder. And it’s a lot cleaner and easier to cook on. I had the carpenter build me a table and some shelves, and except for the lack of oven, my kitchen is complete. Cooking has been a major stress release for me these last few weeks and the stop team guys really like my cooking (we’ve all decided that the landlord’s wife is a terrible cook, so the guys buy me ingredients and I cook for them as well a lot of the time). Leopold the cat has also helped keep me from going insane. She’s getting big, mostly because I give her a lot of fish to eat. She still likes to cuddle, sleeping in my lap as I’m reading in my hammock and curling up at my feet when I go to sleep at night. I don’t know what I’ll do with her when I have to go back to America but luckily I don’t have to think about that for quite a while.

Thank you to everyone who has/is sending me care packages. You can’t imagine how it helps to get stuff from home, even if it’s something as simple as a Texas Monthly magazine or a roll of Charmin (note – we do have toilet paper her, and I can even get it in my village. It’s just not very high quality). I like letters too and though it might take me a while to respond, I will reply.

And a note on communications. If you’re calling me through Skype, I have my skype account forwarded to my Ghanaian cell phone. If it’s not going through, it’s usually because our cell network frequently goes down for hours at a time. That and I have to send my phone out for charging. So if you don’t get me, just keep trying. Eventually you’ll get through. And when you do, I guarantee it will make my day.

Okay, I think I’m going to stop here. I want to go to the market so I can make something tasty for dinner, since I have access to an oven here. Until next time…

Hannah

Christmas was surprisingly great - my landlord slaughtered a goat and we had a feast. New Years was uneventful. I was stuck at my site for both holidays due to the presidental election run-off in Ghana. C'est la vie.

My village is currently in the lead as far as the number of Guinea Worm cases reported for 2009. That's not a designation we want. I've therefore been keeping busy doing filter inspections, case searches, and am getting ready to do some educational programs at the schools once the students return. We had a football match yesterday with Guinea Worm question and answer afterwards. Both chiefs came and even sat next to each other - an historic moment for Fufulso-Junction.

I still don't have a latrine, a situation which is particularly annoying on days when I want to do nothing but spend the day inside of one. They keep saying the mason is coming to finish it soon. But lord only knows when it will actually happen.

Getting a dog was vetoed by my landlord, who fears them. A girl tried to get me to buy a baby deer, but I saw potential problems with such a pet. So I bought a kitty instead. I named her Leopold. Yes, it's a her. I came up with the perfect cat name, not taking into account that it might be a girl. I couldn't think of another name though. So Leopold it is.

So much has happened in the last month but I don't have time to talk about it now. I uploaded some pictures to flickr, so check them out.

Later!

Hannah

After spending a night in Kumasi, where I spent hours catching up on the internet, a group of us started making our way north. We wanted to take our time because we couldn't do anything until the banks opened on Monday, so we stopped at the Boabeng Fiema Monkey Sanctuary outside of Techiman, in the Brong Ahafo region. The story behind this place is kind of fun. There was a hunter walking in the bush one day and he came upon a fetish that was being guarded by four monkeys - two Monas and two Black and White Colobus. The hunter took the fetish and the monkeys ran away. The next morning when he awoke, the monkeys were at his house in the village, guarding the fetish again. The hunter then consulted the fetish priest, who told him that the monkeys were the children of the fetish god. If they liked the monkeys, they should keep the fetish and treat the monkeys like fellow humans and protect them. The monkeys therefore live in peace with the villagers to this day. The come and hang out, mostly in the morning, and even get buried as humans when they die. So if you visit this place, there are monkeys running around every, somewhat similar to the way goats roam about all over the place in other Ghanaian villages.

The monkey cemetery was definitely the highlight of the tour. We were staying at the guest house in Boabeng that night and couldn't resist the urge to walk through the forest to the cemetery after dark to tell ghost stories. It was fantastic, and SOOO scary.

If you want to see pictures, I just put them on flickr.

Off to my site now...

The answer, of course, is be flexible. But I’ll get to that a bit further down. As of yesterday, I am officially a Peace Corps Volunteer. We swore our oaths in front of the Ambassador and our new Country Director at an awesome ceremony at one of the secondary schools in Kukurantumi. But more on that in a minute. I have to back up and tell a little about the last week or two.

The Ghanaian presidential election took place on Sunday. It was uneventful. There were a few disturbances in Greater Accra and in the Upper Volta, but nothing to be alarmed about. If recent history is any indicator, nothing more will happen. The results didn’t come out until Wednesday. The Ghanaian constitution dictates that a candidate must get more than 50% of the vote in order to be elected without a run-off. The NPP’s (the current party in power) Nana Akufo-Addo got just shy of 50%, which means he and the NDC’s (the previous party in power) John Atta-Mills will be in a run-off election on December 28. That’s bad news for me because it means I’ll have to stay at my site for both Christmas and New Year’s and face the holidays without my friends. I think I’m going to make stockings for Maria and Meagan (my neighbors) and have one of the tro drivers deliver them on Christmas. Other than that, all my plans have been shot to hell. C’est la vie.

Monday was our last day of home stay. It was kind of anti-climatic. While I was glad to feel like an adult again, leaving my family on Tuesday morning was very sad. They’ve been so good to me and I will miss them all. My host mom had matching dresses made for me and for her. It’s kind of ugly but it’s the thought that counts. There were a few tears shed and away I went, to stay with the other trainees in hotels until Swearing-In.

Monday was also a sad day for many of us because our friend, Phuong, decided to go back to the states. Sometimes the people we leave behind won’t let you leave so easily, and her family needs her. We’ll miss you, Phuong! Ice cold fantas won’t be the same without you here.

We finally got to meet our new country director this week as well. He came down a day or two before swearing-in to talk with us and with the PCVs who were having a conference nearby. After a time in the marines and a career as a lawyer, Mike joined the Peace Corps and served in Vanuatu. Immediately after service, he became the country director in Kiribati, an island nation in the Equatorial Pacific. Sadly, PC Kiribati was closed this year due to transportation issues (tiny coral islands spread far and wide). But with Bob leaving early to deal with his mom, Mike was transferred here as his replacement. I hope I’ll get to talk to him some more in the next couple years, but as I don’t plan on going to Accra anytime soon, it’ll have to wait.

I passed my LPI (language proficiency interview) with not only a passing grade, but a high one. In fact, the language trainers said I was their best student in this training class. Woohoo! I still feel like my Gonja skills are not nearly what they should be, but that’s what the first few months at site are for. Maybe I’ll be able to pick up some Dagbani too, as many of the people in my village are Dagombas who have moved to the Gonja land for work.

LPI and Tech Evaluation done, there was nothing to do but wait for Swearing-In. Friday was the big day. I had a fantastic dress made, as did several of the other trainees. I also had a bit of fun shaving the bat signal into Steve’s beard.

The Ambassador was present to administer the oath, as were a number of Ghanaian bigwigs. In addition to the formalities of the ceremony, we also had a few fun presentations. Each language group did something in their language. Meagan and I had a little skit prepared in Gonja. We were going to do a song, but Braimah’s sister passed away and he had to leave before he taught it too us. We did well though. Afterwards, we did our traditional drumming and dancing. I was one of the drummers – the one luckily enough to be wielding the giant cowbell. More cowbell! It was one of our better run-throughs, hot and sunny though it was. I got quite a sunburn just from the 15 minutes I spent out performing.

We received some awesome advice from Mike during his speech. He told us that whenever you find yourself having trouble, just ask yourself, “What Would Gumby Do?” Because flexibility is the key to the life of a Peace Corps Volunteer. He then gave all of us a miniature Gumby doll – how cool is that?! He also said that PCVs are the kind of people who look at the glass as half-full, the figure out a way to take a bath with it.

I decided early in the week that after swearing-in, once I would no longer see my host mother everyday, I could finally shave my head. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, especially after Kathryn and Julie did theirs last week. A number of factors led to this decision. I’m out of shampoo for one, and even if I wasn’t, it takes a lot of water to wash your hair and there’s not a whole lot of water in my village. At least not safe water. Also, it’s really hot in Africa. Really. I was also sick of my hair and as I’m starting a new life in a new place, now’s my chance to start fresh in the hair department. So sorry to all those who liked my hair. But the deed has been done. After the ceremony and dinner, all the new and old PCVs went to the For You Spot, our local hangout. We had told them to stock extra beer and bring more chairs and they did. The definitely made a killing off us last night. After a couple of beers helped get my courage up, I sat down at let my stylist go to work. Kevin started out with the clippers, but was helped along the way by several of my fellow new volunteers. It turned out surprisingly well. I got a lot of compliments on the shape of my skull. Few people can pull off the shaved look, but apparently I can.

But then, a few months here have skewed my perspective. A lot. What looks awesome to me could look horrible to you. Either way, it’s now much easier to bathe. And much cooler.

P.S. - I'm uploading all my pictures to flickr as I type. So check it out - http://www.flickr.com/photos/hannahefrank

As I prepare to move North, please start sending anything you want to

send to me to my new address...

Hannah Frank, PCV

Peace Corps/Ghana

P.O. Box 962

Tamale, Northern Region

Ghana, West Africa

Stuff will still get to me if you send it to Accra, but it will get to

me quicker if you send it to Tamale (the PCVL only goes to pick up

mail in Accra once a month).

More later when I have more time on the internet.

Merry Christmas,

Hannah

(I originally wrote this on Sunday but wasn't able to post it until today) The last few days have been spent in a fever induced stupor. As I mentioned in my last entry, I had what I thought was the flu on Wednesday. Turns out it was a little more than the flu – the PCMO said it was either malaria or dysentery. Though I have no background in medicine, I’m leaning towards dysentery. If it were malaria, I’d probably still be in bed. More on that in a minute. Let me expand upon the Thanksgiving festivities.

Though I’d had a temp of over 102 on Wednesday, I was feeling okay on Thursday morning. The original plan was for all of us to cook in the morning and get together for a potluck on Thanksgiving afternoon around 3 or 3.30. We were supposed to have the entire day off, seeing as it’s a major American holiday. However, on Wednesday night, half of the group got phone calls from our training director, saying that they would have to go to Accra on Thursday morning to open their bank accounts. Why this couldn’t be done on another day, or why they waited until the night before to tell them is beyond me. They were assured, however, that they would be back by noon.

B.S.

While I was feeling better, I wasn’t feeling so well that I wanted to go about making 60 apple pies (McDonald’s style pies, not big ones) all by my lonesome. So instead of starting in the early morning, I moseyed over to New Tafo to use the internet and what not, waiting for the others to return from Accra. I knew they wouldn’t be back by noon, but I wasn’t expecting them to arrive at 5.30 in the evening! By about 2, I resigned myself to making the pies alone and started peeling apples. Luckily, Kimmie and Andy took pity on me and came to help. Mame Esi was also instrumental in the pie making process (she is after all, a professional maker of meat pies and other tasty items). While she thought our filling was way to sweet, she liked the changes we made in her dough. Instead of Maggi (shrimp flavored bullion cubes), which she usually adds to the dough for her meat pies, we added sugar. By 5 o’clock, 60 steamy apple pies were being pulled from her big clay oven. We threw them in a box and headed to the spot (we were too pissed off to have the potluck at the PC office, so we went to our favorite spot in Kukurantumi and bribed Sister Grace to let us have a party there). I was instantly a hero. Half the people who were supposed to bring food couldn’t because they’d been in Accra all day. But when 60 warm apple pies walked through the door, the evening was salvaged.

The plus side of the trip to Accra was that we got some mail. And, joy of joys, even I got a letter. The stars aligned just right this week and the Thanksgiving card my granny sent actually arrived on Thanksgiving Day – something that never happens, even in the states. In the end it was a good Thanksgiving, even if by that time I was feeling too sick to eat anything.

Like I said, I had been feeling better early in the day but by Thursday evening, my stomach was rebelling again. When I finally left the Thanksgiving celebration, all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball on my bed. I had no desire to go to session on Friday, especially when I woke up unable to control most of my bodily functions. But I knew that the PCMOs were coming to the hub office to give another talk, so I dragged myself out of bed and staggered to the taxi circle. When I got to the hub office, I went to lay in the sick bay to wait for the PCMOs to arrive. A few hours later I woke up completely drenched in sweat and every muscle in my body ached. According to the ancient celcius thermometer I found, my temperature was 39.3 (102.7). I lost count of how many times I went back and forth to the toilet. It was not fun. As I said earlier, when the PCMO finally got there, she decided that I had either dysentery or malaria and therefore gave me medicine for both. I got permission to spend the night in the sick bay, since there was a fan and a flush toilet. By about nine, my fever finally started to break, even though I was still having trouble keeping food down and keeping away from the bathroom.

I didn’t go home until last night but by this morning, it was like I had never been sick. I even ate all my breakfast! Braimah is convinced that it wasn’t dysentery, but simply too much yam fufu. Hmmm – interesting diagnosis. If eating yam fufu leads to dysentery-like symptoms, I’m screwed. That’s all they want to feed me at my site. I can’t wait to set up my kitchen.

On a happier note, I just heard a Christmas song on the radio. Even in Ghana, a few days after Thanksgiving is not too early to start with the carols.

Don't be surprised if you don't here from me until later next week. Things are getting very hectic in the run up to the election here and I want to avoid all the crazy crowds. In addition, everything will be closed and even taxis aren't running on election day (Sun, Dec. 7), so I won't be coming to use the internet. There are lots of plans and backup plans in place for our safety, so no worries, ya hear!

See you on the flip side. Next time I post, I will be done with training!

Once again, it’s been a long time since I last wrote and a lot of exciting things have happened since I last made it online. Forgive me, therefore, if I’m somewhat long-winded today. There’s a lot to tell.

I’ll start with the Sunday before last. My host family invited me to a wedding in Koforidua – one of Mame Esi’s nieces was the bride. They wanted me to have a dress made for the occasion, something I was more than happy to do, as I need some formal Ghanaian wear for swearing-in as well. However, because of the financial crunch we’re under, we weren’t paid our allowance the previous week and I didn’t have the money to buy the cloth until the Friday before the wedding. As good as Ghanaian seamstresses are, that’s not enough time to have a nice dress made.

The solution – my family played “dress up the obroni.” I was going to wear the dress I had worn to the Ambassador’s function the first week of training but Mame Esi said it wasn’t formal enough and lent me this fantastic sequined number. I looked absolutely ridiculous but all the old ladies kept on telling me how beautiful it was.

The festivities began at about 6 am. Members of the family traveling from Old Tafo started gathering at our house, eating breakfast and making sure everyone looked nice, from me down to little Kofi. A rented tro then pulled up at about 8 am to ferry us all to Koforidua. I asked what time we would be back, as I had to pack that night for the trip I was leaving on the next day, and Ama said 3 or 4. I shouldn’t have taken this to actually mean 3 or 4, knowing that time is completely relevant when church is involved. But more on that later.

I didn’t realize that weddings could be so traumatic. I thought the church services, which are regularly around three or four hours in length, were bad enough, but add five times as many people and lots of wedding traditions and it was ten times as long. And very, very loud. There was a full two hours of dancing and worship before the bride and groom even arrived. Everything was said in both Twi and Ewe, neither of which I can speak, making the whole thing that much more frustrating. I had no idea what was going on for most of the day. And instead of a billion bridesmaids and one pastor as you might find in an American wedding, there was once maid of honor and TWENTY officiating ministers.

As if I didn’t feel out of place enough, come noon, my sister Emma pulled me out of the church because it was time for me to take my lunch. So even though I wasn’t hungry, she took me across town to get some banku and okra stew and then we sat in this random relative’s house awkwardly for about an hour, watching football and waiting for Mame Esi to call us back to the church. When we eventually got back we sat for another two or three hours of frivolity. After the ceremony was finally over, we boarded the tro again to go to another facility for the refreshment – another couple of hours of formalities, this time with food and drink, and lots of shoving in the line for said food and drinks. It was nearly dark by the time we escaped and when I finally returned I went to Phuong’s house to relax with an ice-cold Fanta before heading back to my house to pack.

The next day after language class we were supposed to have all our bags packed for our site visit. They suggested that we bring as much of our stuff with us as possible because we would have our counterparts with us to help on the trip up to our individual sites. I took everything except for my computer, mandolin, and a few small items. Most of this would get left at my new home when I came back to Old Tafo for the last few weeks of training.

Before heading out for out weeklong site visit, we had a three day workshop with our counterparts and supervisors. We were hosted by the Bunso Cocoa College, not far from Old Tafo. I knew my counterpart was female but I wasn’t expecting the cute little 4’9” lady who walked up to me and introduced herself. Madam Hawa is awesome. Not only does she make me feel tall, but she also reminds me a lot of my host mom. She too is a baker, had a big family, and treats me like her own daughter. And tiny though she is, she was a big help in getting my massive amount of stuff onto the bus to Fufulso.

The workshop itself was torturous. It was primarily meant to help the counterparts understand their role in Peace Corps but we trainees had to sit through the whole thing, even though most of the information was stuff we’d already had drilled into our heads in the past month and a half. But you gotta do what you gotta do. On Thursday morning, we all went our separate ways to visit our new homes for the next two years. Those of us heading to the Tamale area we able to get on the STC bus from Accra (kind of like Greyhound – the high class way to travel in Ghana, complete with air conditioning and Nigerian movies). There were a few delays getting there but I eventually got to Fufulso late that night. Because my village is on the main truck route between Tamale and Kumasi, I was able to have the bus stop for just a moment and let me alight just a few hundred yards from my door. We had to wake my landlord up to let me into my room, where I passed out from the weariness of the road.

The next morning I had my introduction to the village. First order of business was to greet the chief of course. Or chiefs I should say. The community I live in is actually two separate villages that have merged into one – Fufulso and Junction. There are therefore two separate chiefs, both of which I had to greet. I waited for them to assemble their elders, then went with Madam Hawa and my landlord (who is the District Assemblyman for the community) to the Junction chief’s palace followed by the Fufulso chief’s palace (though by palace I mean it was more like a weathered mud-brick compound – we are in Africa after all). Those formalities aside, I was taken to meet the police captain then the school teachers. The teachers we kind enough to allow me access to their personal facilities for the week – my latrine is still under construction so they gave me the key to their latrine at the school for my private use. And so everyone would know they weren’t to use it, they added some words in chalk to the outside of the building – STRICTLY FOR USE BY U.N. PEACE CORP VOLUNTEER ONLY BY ORDER. Subtle, huh? I can’t wait until my latrine is down, so that I won’t have to walk across down and through the school yard to relieve myself.

Other than the lack of a complete latrine, my accommodations are very nice, particularly by Peace Corps standards. Like I said, I live in the Assemblyman’s compound, which is the nicest building in town. I have two rooms and a porch to myself. One room has been furnished as a bedroom and even decorated. I have the most fantastic color scheme going on – green walls, a blue floor, and bright pink sheets on the bed. So wonderfully colorful. I’m going to have to replace the curtains – I’m not digging the laciness as much as the rest of the room. The other room is a blank canvas. I’m going to make it my living room/kitchen. The carpenter was supposed to visit me while I was there but didn’t make it before I left. I want to have him make me a couch and some shelves, so I have somewhere to put the ten million books/manuals that PC has given us since we’ve been here, as well as a place for my clothes. My only problem right now is how to get the two-year-old daughter of my landlord to stop screaming in terror every time she sees me.

The water situation in my village is pretty bad. Several NGOs have tried to put in boreholes, but without success. The water table is too deep or something along those lines. Most people use hand-dug wells in the wet season, but these dry up pretty quickly and not long into the dry season, the sole source of water is the dam, favorite hiding place of guinea worm and other fantastic diseases and parasites. Madam Hawa told me that the year before last, even the dam dried up by the end of the dry season and the people where forced to go all the way to Yapei to fetch water. So I’m going to have my hands full here. The beautiful tin roof at the school looks perfect for a rainwater collection system. The only one I’ve seen in town is the one at my house – my landlord built a giant concrete collection tank in the middle of the courtyard. It’ll hold about 50 barrels (about 2800 gallons?) – more than enough for the needs of myself, my landlord, and his wife and child. Let me put this into a little perspective for you. Everything you take a dump, the flush of your toilet uses at least a couple of gallons. Some older toilets will use as much as 6 or 7. The average Ghanaian uses about a bucket a day. Even as a heavy water user by Ghanaian standards, unless I’m doing wash I rarely use more than 2 buckets, or about 8 gallons. And I take two baths a day.

The one semi-productive thing I did while at site was to visit a village with Maria and several of the Carter Center volunteers to do a Guinea Worm program one night. We drove two hours into the bush until we got to this tiny village that is still having trouble with the worm. It was nice to get to know some of the people I’ll be working with. Maria is the only other PCV in my district and because she’s only about 15 km from me, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.

I can’t wait until I have my kitchen set up. The food situation was absolutely ridiculous this week. Because I didn’t have anyway to cook for myself while I was visiting, Madam Hawa wanted to make sure I was eating. So even though the Assemblyman’s wife was cooking me breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Madam kept make me lunch and dinner too. Now I like Ghanaian food, but not so much that I want to eat five meals a day. But when someone goes to the trouble to pound fufu for you, you are obliged to eat it. I’m pretty sure I gained about 10 pounds in the few days I was there. Bleh.

I didn’t really do much while I was there – just met a bunch of people whose names I can’t remember and started the slow process of finally settling in somewhere. I even set up my hammock on the porch. The about halfway through my visit, I came to the conclusion that it kind of rocks having two chiefs. One of the Fufulso elders came by one even with a giant bag and a rooster, saying “Chief said to bring you these yams and this cock.” It was a beautiful rooster and looked very tasty too. I thanked him for his welcome gift and was only sitting a few minutes before one of the Junction elders arrived, also with a bundle of yams and another rooster. After all, two cocks are better than one (sorry Granny, I couldn’t resist being obscene – it’s better to giggle as I type this than to laugh when someone hands me such an expensive gift). Madam Hawa’s son slaughtered one of them for my dinner the last night I was there, then killed and smoked the other one to take with me on the trip back to Old Tafo.

Instead of taking the STC bus (which is after all expensive), we decided to be economical and take tros to get back to Old Tafo. We didn’t want to get in late (and technically aren’t supposed to travel at night until after the election), so we only traveled as far as Kumasi on Tuesday, spent the night at the KSO (Kumasi Sub Office, which beats the socks off the Tamale Sub Office in terms of comfort and cleanliness), and continued on to Old Tafo in the morning. We even had a chance to get hamburgers while we were in Kumasi. While there were only 9 of us coming from the Northern Region, the PCTs from Upper East and Upper West were also staying at the KSO that night, so we were able to hire a whole tro to take us home. We got a great price.

Unfortunately for me, I was sick when I woke up on Wednesday morning. Yay for the flu! Diarrhea and a high fever = horrible companions on a three hour tro ride. By the time I got home, my temperature was 102.5. Tylenol brought that down a little but it was a horrible 24 hours.

I’m feeling much better this morning. My stomach is still a little funky but the fever is gone, relieving my fears that it was malaria. I can now look forward to tonight’s festivities. We’re having a Thanksgiving potluck at the hub office. That means it’s time for me to go now – I have 45 apples in my room, waiting to be peeled and made into pies. It rocks having a baker as a host mom! Happy Thanksgiving!

Another long week has passed. It’s been quite a drama-filled week too. The first trainee to go home left this week. I’m not going to go into the details – we’re all pretty bummed to see him go. The moral of his tale is don’t get involved with members of your host family. I think I’ll just leave it at that.

The other major issue I had to deal with this week was the lack of funds in the Peace Corps coffers. The budget for Peace Corps/Ghana has not been increased in several years, despite inflation and the rising cost of food and transportation. So when PC needs to give us our weekly allowance, the cash is not always there. We were supposed to get paid last Friday but no money was sent up from Accra. We ended up having to wait until this Friday to get our $2/day. Now, I know we’re supposed to be living near the poverty line and all, but I find it incredibly irritating that they just didn’t give us anything at all for an entire week. Luckily we get our meals for free during training. But there are other expenses that simply can’t be avoided. Take toilet paper. One roll is 40 pesawas (100 pesawas=1 cedi). That’s more than the cost of a taxi to New Tafo. So when I found myself facing the choice of either getting to the Hub Office to maybe get paid or buying something soft with which to wipe, it was difficult to decide. It’s a good thing I had a lot of notebook paper lying around.

On the plus side, Marion and Alan returned yesterday. Marion’s mother passed away unexpectedly a few weeks ago, so PC sent her home for two weeks. Her husband Alan went with her. They confirmed their awesomeness by bringing freshly baked cookies and several newspapers and magazines with them when they returned. Marion said she’d help me with baking the pies for our Thanksgiving potluck (since I live with the baker, I’m lucky enough to have access to an oven). I think we’re going to go with chicken instead of turkey, since turkeys are so expensive and we’re all broke. There has been talk of a roast pig though - one of the environment volunteers is staying with a pig farmer. Of course, that may just be wishful thinking.

Monday we’ll be meeting our counterparts, who are coming to town for a workshop. Then we’ll all go with them to our individual sites. I’m planning on taking as much of my stuff as possible with me, as I’ll have my counterpart to help me. After that, there’s just two weeks more of training before we swear in. Fun times.

Okay, I have to go to Addo Nkwanta now – the environment PCTs are having a cross-sector demonstration for us. As we say in Gonja, “To, kamanto!” (“We’ll meet again!”).

PS – Here’s a funny anecdote I have to share. I was walking down the path with one of the Ghanaian trainers when she says to me, “Wow, look at that huge cock!” She was of course speaking of the big rooster standing on a porch nearby, but I couldn’t help but laugh on hearing these words come from an elderly woman’s mouth.

It’s been an exciting few weeks for me. After a busy week of more language and more technical training, Halloween kind of snuck up on us. We had intended to have a big party, with costumes and more, but the following morning we would have to be on a bus at 5.30 to head north for our sector-specific field trip. We had to settle for a couple of hours at our favorite local spot, with a few impromptu costumes thrown in (and lots of funny looks from the few non-Americans who happened to be there).

The big story I have to tell is that of the field trip itself. We’re now halfway through training and the Peace Corps wanted each sector to travel together to get some more hands-on practice amongst current volunteers. The Environment crew head to the Upper West region, while SED (Small Enterprise Development) went to a site not far from Kukurantumi in the Lower Volta. WATSAN however is a larger group and is somewhat divided from within between those assigned to the Northern Region to on work primarily on Guinea Worm Eradication (that’s me) and those going to the Nkwanta District in Upper Volta to work more closely on Health and Hygiene. We therefore divided into two groups for field trip, with those of us assigned to the north going to a site not far from Tamale and the others going to Nkwanta.

The problem with this plan was that WATSAN had the same budget as the other two sectors even though we were doing two separate trips. We were told we would have to make due with just one car for both groups as Peace Corps couldn’t afford to give us two. Here’s the thing – while if you look at a map, it’s technically shorter mileage wise to go from Kukurantumi to Tamale through the Volta Region than it is to go through Kumasi, the roads in Upper Volta are ABSOLUTE SHIT. It actually ends up taking a lot longer to go through the Volta, unless you have a private car. We were in a privately hired tro, but not one that was equipped to handle dirt roads of this level. But we had to go this way anyway, so that we could drop off the Nkwanta group before heading farther north.

When Martin (are technical trainer) gave us the schedule for the trip, I laughed. He had us scheduled to arrive in Tamale at 4 pm. Having already traveled in the Nkwanta training during Vision Quest, I knew that it would take AT LEAST seven or eight hours just to get to Nkwanta, and that was only halfway. Even though we left close to on time on Saturday morning, we didn’t get to Nkwanta until about 3 or 3.30. We had taken way too much time to eat lunch in Hohoe due to Martin’s insistence that we eat at a restaurant instead of a chop bar (Ghanaian fast food). After we dropped the others, we continued on towards Tamale, covered in dust already and getting hungry again. What we didn’t know was that we wouldn’t arrive in Tamale until 10 pm, and it was another hour from there to get to the place we’d be staying the night. Let me just say that traveling down dirt roads late at night is not a pleasant experience, no matter where you are.

I had a cool person sitting next to me for most of the ride – Sub Chief Larry, one of my new neighbors once I get to site. He’s an older volunteer, working as a SED PCV in Daboya, northwest of Tamale. Because he’s older and male, he gets a lot more respect from his community that I can ever hope to get. They even went so far as to enstool him as a sub chief. He’s also one of the few PCVs who has studied Gonja, so we talked about that and my extensive plans for cooking once I have a place to set up a kitchen. I get the impression he’ll be visiting me a lot after all the tasty meals I described. How many of you can say that you’ve entertained royalty?

Anyway, by the time we reached Tamale, we were all orange from the dust, absolutely starving, and ready to pass out. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stop at the Tamale Sub Office (TSO) – all the sleeping mats had already been moved to Mike’s site (where we’d be staying) and our meal had already been paid for and prepared by his Assemblyman’s wife. We had to continue. Back on the bus we went and a little over an hour later we finally pulled in for the night. After we got some cold TZ in our bellies (think really thick grits smushed into balls and eaten with peanut soup) and actual showers thanks to Mike’s polytank, we sprawled out in his courtyard with a couple of mosquito coils and called it a night.

The actual bulk of the trip was pretty cool. We spent time with a few different volunteers, helping with their projects and seeing their sites. We played a football (soccer) match against the town team at Shawn’s site as part of an AIDS education thing, but Martin had failed to mention we’d be playing, so we had to play in our Chacos. I wiped out at one point, much to the delight of the three hundred some-odd children standing along the sidelines. We also learned a lot about the Guinea Worm projects, even taking samples of the dam water in Savelugu and going house to house inspecting and replacing filters. We spent the last day at Johnnie’s site, which is somewhat close to my own (which I’ve yet to see).

We tried working out someway we could go home by a different route, but another vehicle could not be found (or, more likely, they just didn’t want to pay for one). We HAD to go back the way we’d come to get the others. Instead of staying at Johnnie’s site again like we were supposed to on our last night, we headed to the TSO after dinner, so that we could get a head start and leave at 4.30 on Wednesday morning. (We also had the slight ulterior motive of wanting to be at the TSO so we’d be able to look up election results on the computer as they came in). We ended up passing out pretty early though, since we knew we’d have a long day on Wednesday. Inez called me at 3 am to give me the news about Obama (woohoo) and the day began with a slight boast, a boast that was soon shot down by many long hours of bumpy, dusty roads. About 2 hours in, the clutch on the tro started going out, and every time we stopped to let someone pee in the bush, it would take us 20 minutes to get going again. As we had discovered the previous evening, the vehicle was actually infested with cockroaches – the little baby ones that are so annoying were crawling over everything, including our legs. I didn’t know that cockroaches bite but these ones did. Eck. The similarity to Little Miss Sunshine was striking, as the bus was yellow and our crew a motley one. Fortunately, unlike the movie, we had no dead grandfather to deal with – just a bunch of very irritated Peace Corps Trainees, including one slightly OCD nurse.

By the time we limped into Nkwanta, I thought people were going to strangle Martin (he had stayed behind with the Nkwanta group while Braimah went north with us). We stopped at the guesthouse the others had been staying at while the driver (the poor guy who’d been with us the whole time) went to “fix” the clutch. No amount of caffeinated beverages or cookies could make us feel better. Then JJ had a brilliant idea – why not turn the last half of the ride into a celebration?! Just as any celebration in Ghana isn’t complete without the traditional pouring of libations, so was our trip in complete without libations of our own. Mixing gin and tampico (think Sunny D) in a nalgene bottle and passing it around amongst the group may not sound very good to you; it might even sound nauseating. But to us, it was heavenily. And more importantly, it allowed us to indure the final leg of our journey – dust, roaches, and all. Because we decided not to stop for meals, instead buying food on the road along the way, we made it back to Old Tafo in slightly less time than it had taken to get to Tamale. After leaving at 4.30, I finally got back to my house at 9.30 in the evening. I’ve never seen my host mom’s eyes so big. The first thing she said to me after “Welcome Home!” was “I will get you water for your bath.” I was absolutely disgusting. It took me several hours to wash all the clothing the next morning, even with help from my sister (who was nice enough to even wash my backpack and pack pillow for me). I almost feel human again today.

I decided to forgo going to Koforidua with the group today. A bunch of people wanted to visit the Bead Market that is held there every Thursday. I had found time to go last week, so I didn’t really feel up to it. I did however get Kymberly to look for some earring for me, to match the new Ghanaian dress I just had made by Consuelo’s host mom.

A note on beads. One of the things women do with beads here is tie strings of the little ones around the waist. I’ve heard someone say that one reason is to keep track of weight, a reason I believe, especially when I see that every small child is wearing a string or two. But the interesting things about waist beads is that they are part of foreplay for Ghanaian women. Having waist beads exposed is somewhat similar to showing your thong in America. Good girls just don’t do it. As my host mom said to me, “Only let your husband see your beads.”

I bought a few strings when I was at the market last week. They were very cheap and most are beautiful. Being the UTD nerd that I am, however, I couldn’t resist buying a string of orange and green waist beads. Gotta have a little school spirit every now in then.

Okay, now I have to go prepare for tomorrow. Phuong and I are giving a presentation on Ghanaian pop music. Time to make a playlist….

In our language class yesterday, we learned words and phrase to use in the market. "How much is this yam? That is too expensive, reduce the price. Please give me a little extra." etc. The topic also included colors (though we only really learned four - apparently we don't need more than for colors to make it in Ghana) - red (peper), black (lembir), green (fitiri-bunjbunj), and white (fuful). As Braimah (my language teacher) said the word for white, I started giggling. I suddenly understood the root of my village's name - Fufulso literally means the "white place." Or As Braimah put it, the place without color. I'm going to be spending two years living in the blank spot in the road. That's what I get for telling my APCD (Associate Peace Corps Director - my boss when it comes to WATSAN) that I want to be placed somewhere pretty. But I'm excited - I'm close to lots of good places, and more importantly, lots of friends.

We're going on a field trip this Saturday. We're going based on sector and assignment, so all the WATSANers that are assigned to the north are going to the Northern Region together for a week. We'll spend some time at a volunteer's site, helping with a few things and seeing some more of the country, then we'll head back to Old Tafo for a few weeks before we go on our individual site visits to our villages.

Even though we're leaving at dawn on Saturday, the fact that Friday is Halloween has not escaped us. We're planning on having a cross sector get-together of some kind, including costumes and maybe even a little trick-or-treating. Why not - our homestay families already think we're insane.

Happy happy birthday to my big sister, Emily. I have to head back to Old Tafo for my lunch.

A MOST BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HANNAH!!!!!!

October 25, 2008

I just got Hannah's letter dated Oct 9th.....so here it is transcribed ...

Dear Friends

I just got back from what the Peace Corps calls my "vision quest". I travelled to a current volunteers site for a few days visit, to see what life is like in a village. It was so great to have at least a little freedom,even if it was brief. I had a lot of fun with my host, Sarah. It helped that I brought my M&M's and beef jerky, along with my mad cooking skills. She lives in Tutukpene, a town in the Nkwanta District of the Volta Region.

I wish I could live in Tutukpene too-it's nestled at the base of a mountain and there is lots of good "chop" (fast food Gana style) available. And though Nkwanta is "isolated" because travel is so difficult in the district, the volunteer sites are relatively close to one another and they work together a lot. There may not be electricity and internet and phones are hard to come by, but

I would love living there for two years.

I am supposed to have my site placement interview today or tomorrow to determine where I'll be. We're now at our training site in Kukurantumi. I move in with my host family on Saturday and on Monday I find out where I'll be sent once I finish training in December. Everything is going so fast but I wish it would move faster still. I am ready to go to work!

Though I don't know what language I have to learn for my site, I have been practicing Twi for travel purposes (and so that if I do get to go to Nwanta, I'll have a head start). My favorite phrase so far is "Yemfre me obroni; yefre me Hannah" ..."My name is not white lady, my name is Hannah".

The little kids are so cute when they try to get an "obroni's" attention (Obroni literally means "one from over the sea"), but it is sometimes frustrating . They are usually happy if I just wave back- if I speak Twi to them it makes their day. By the end of my stay with "Ama Olila" ( Sarah's

Ghanaian name) the kids in Tutukpene knew me as Sister Hannah and would call to me

wherever I went. I have run out of room now and time....the Fufu has arrived!

So for now, "Yo Meeks!" Hannah

I think I’m going to have to admit failure – at this point, I don’t think the “proxy blogging” thing is working out too well. In theory it’s a great idea, but in practice it’s a bit annoying. While I like sending letters to people, the postal system (both Ghanaian and American) is too slow for the kind of information sharing I normally do with my blog. The letter I sent to be posted two weeks ago still hasn’t made it onto the blog. And though my access to the internet is erratic, I can access it. The proxy blogging idea was more of a contingency plan for if I got placed somewhere without any internet access at all. I wasn’t sure until last week where I would be sent within Ghana and therefore how easy it would be to get online. But now that I know where I’m going, the situation is a bit different. Ultimately, it’s cheaper for me to post to the blog myself – it’s 1.40 Ghana Cedis (GH¢) to send a letter to the states, while it’s usually about .60 per hour at an internet café. When I’m only making 6 cedis a day, that’s a lot of money. I guess I should back up a bit and share the letter that I was going to send to Kathe to post for me so that I can bring you up to date…

“Dear Friends,

It has been an exciting few days, full of ups and downs and in between times as well. After months of waiting, I finally found out where I’ll be going once training is over in December. I’ve been assigned to the village of Fufulso (a.k.a. Damango Junction). It is in the Northern Region, about 30 minutes west of Tamale. I couldn’t have asked for a better location. Only 30 minutes from the PC sub office (and therefore free internet) and right on the main truck route between Tamale and Kumasi. I’m also only about 2 hours from Mole National Park, one of the biggest game reserves in West Africa. And, joy of joys, there are quite a few of us clustered around Tamale – so lots of friends to hang out with and bounce ideas off of. I won’t be without some challenges of course. I don’t have electricity at my site. I’ll also have to use either the dam or a stream for my water – my village doesn’t have any boreholes (the safest source of water in rural areas) due to its geological profile. But that is why I’m here – to figure out how to make situations like this work. I think the rainwater collection guide I brought will come in handy very soon.

Because I now know where I’ll be going, I’ve had to switch language classes. No more Twi for me (as much as my host family wants to speak it to me). I’m on to Gonja now (and no, it’s not pronounced like ganga – it’s pronounced GOOn-ja). My language teacher, Braimah, is a lot of fun and after only a few sessions, I can already greet people, introduce myself, and ask for my favorite Ghanaian dishes to eat.

I like the village we’re staying in for training. It’s not very big but it has everything I need. Except internet (but I can take a car to New Tafo for that if I get desperate). I still feel really awkward living with a family and having every hour of every day dictated for me. It was really tough this week, as my “little brother” Kofi contracted malaria and had to spend three nights in the hospital. Seeing a two-year-old get a blood transfusion is so sad. He’s back home though and healthy enough to be playing on my porch as I write and listen to music.

We’re getting ready to celebrate birthdays on Monday. Four of us share October 20th as a birthday so it’s going to be fun. I hope I don’t have a repeat of the Russian birthday party from a few years ago.

I also bought a cell phone this week, so that’s the best way to get more details on my adventure (011-233-242660968). I have so much to talk about and so little time. But life is good and I’m loving it here. Especially when the sun goes down, the temperature drops, and I have time to reflect on each wonderful day that has passed.

Until next time,

Hannah”

So I will have semi-regular access to internet (depending how often I make it to Tamale – but I’d have to go there to post letters anyway). Right now it’s kind of a pain to post stuff to the blog, as I have to go to another town to do it and on my own dime (during training, we only get 2GH¢ a day too – that’s only a little over $2). But it’s far cheaper to spend a few pesawas (100 pesawas=1 Ghana cedi) on getting online than an entire 1.40Gh¢ sending a letter that might make it on the blog within a month if I’m lucky.

I had a fantastic birthday celebration. The others I share a birthday with were all in different towns as we’re all in different sectors and therefore split up for most of training. I told my host family that I wanted to cook for my birthday. They humored be and let me use the kitchen after class on Monday. By the time my “chili” was done however, they had set a table and gathered quite a crowd for the greatest birthday party I’ve ever had. Only a few of my American friends were there, as I had no idea my family was going to go to such links to make me feel special on my birthday. We a great time. My host mom even baked me a heart-shaped cake! Let me just add, living with a baker is awesome. My brother Samuel borrowed a stereo from somebody and for an hour we alternated seamlessly between really loud gospel music and really obscene rap. After my “dance party” was over, the five of us Americans headed to a spot (in Ghana, bars are referred to as spots) to have a beer with some of the others. All in all, a great end to a great day.

At my dad’s request, I set up the skype account like I had it set when I was in Russia. Now, if you call 512-377-1987, it goes to my skype account and is then forwarded to my Ghanaian cell phone. Free for you and cheap for me. I love technology.

Before I go, let me list a few things I’ve learned to do this past week:

-Carry a baby on my back with only a “two-yard” (a piece of fabric)

-Pound fufu (a Ghanaian dish made from either boiled yam or boiled plantains and cassava mixed together)

-Construct a pit latrine (though I haven’t practiced this yet)

I also got complimented on my laundry technique by an old Ghanaian lady. I guess all that hand washing I did in Russia has finally paid off. If only my clothes would stay clean for more than five minutes – stupid humidity.

That’s all for now. Tune in next week for more.

The very first missive from Hannah has arrived-and she also called just a few days

ago and we had a nice very quick phone call! Here's both sides of the postcard....

Ta Dah!

I finally have a chance to put a little message up here, letting you all know I'm safe and sound in Accra.

We arrived a few days ago, after a very long flight from Philadelphia. Things have been moving at whirlwind pace thus far, but we finally had some free time to explore today. Technically, we're on a cultural scavenger hunt, but one of my tasks was to find an internet cafe and see how much it is for an hour (the answer - 0.60GP - roughly 50 cents, and 1/6 of my daily allowance while here).

Now I'm off to buy a sim card for my cell phone. I'll try to reply to individual messages later.

Love to all.

Hannah

PS - Plantains are in season and fantastic. And no, my banana allergy does not extend to plantains. Mmmmm, fufu.

Stage two of the road to the Peace Corps is underway. Erica just pulled out of the parking lot, leaving me to wait for my train to Philadelphia.

The train is running about an hour late. I’m not surprised. Unlike with other train systems (even the Russian ones), I’ve never talked to anyone who’s ridden on an on-time Amtrak train.

As I sit here waiting, messing about on the computer for lack of anything better to do, it seems weird to me that I’m nearly gone. I’ve been wasting away all summer, waiting for my departure, waiting to meet my fellow trainees, waiting to do something more useful that sitting around waiting. I get blue with each goodbye, with each facebook message or email wishing me well. But I can’t wait to get going on this next grand adventure.

I had to repack my bags after flying up here on Saturday. The bathroom scale that I used to weigh my backpack was apparently a full 8 pounds off and my perfectly packed bag was therefore 4 pounds overweight. Since my carryon was already packed to the gills, I decided to bite the bullet and buy a small rolling duffel and split up the 54 pounds in my large pack into two bags. It's more luggage that I wanted to take but I'm way underweight now, which takes a load off my mind.

I had a good time here in Charlottesville with Erica – a perfect combination of cheesy tourism (ie – visiting Monticello) and goofing around (ie - hiking in skirts, sandals, and goofy hats). I even had time to continue Erica’s education in regards to classic movies. I did manage to injure myself at a very inopportune time – cutting my thumb in an attempt to sharpen my pocket knife (doh!) while Erica was in class. But all is well now as I leave for Philadelphia, where I’ll meet up with my fellow Peace Corps trainees and depart for Ghana.

Uncle Todd is going to meet me in Philly for my last few free days. I think some Philly Cheesesteaks and baseball are in order.

I like to think of myself as an artist when it comes to packing. Anyone can pack for a week long trip, but how many people do you know can pack a bag for a 27 month trip without going over weight?

I took all of this stuff...

...and these two backpacks...

...and this was the result...

The big green one is only 45 lbs, putting me within the free limits for Delta, with whom I am flying to Accra. I have this wonderful feeling of accomplishment. Of course, I haven't gone over my list to make sure I have everything, but no one's bursting my bubble today (not even the fact that Hurrican Ike ruined my going away party plans).

For some of us summer hasn't been long enough. For others it cannot be done soon enough!

That person would be Hannah who has been eagerly awaiting her epic journey to Ghana via the Peace Corps.

Well Hannah- your time has come. We all wish you a fond Bon Voyage and safe return. I will await your mail for me to post here on your blog.

Your proxy blogger- Kathe W.

It's September. Holy crap.

I've been waiting for September to come all summer, because September means my imminent departure, the beginning of the next exciting adventure. It's exciting, but also terrifying.

I'm not terrified about spending the next couple years of my life in Ghana - that's the exciting part. I'm terrified because the arrival of September means that I have just a few short weeks to get through an extraordinarily long to-do list.

A few examples of items currently on my to-do list...

~Sell my computer

~Somehow find enough money to buy the rest of the stuff I need to pack

~PACK!

~Write my will

This is just the tip of the iceberg. Even though I don't have to be in Philadelphia for staging until the 27th, I'm leaving Texas on the 20th-ish. That leaves a little less than three weeks.

Crap.

I received a letter today that indicated it is once more time to fire up the blog. It reads as follows...

Dear Prospective Volunteer: Please give this letter to your family/friends and ask them to hold on to it for as long as you are in Ghana.

Dear Families,

Greetings from the Ghana Desk in Washington, D.C. It is with great pleasure that we welcome your family member to the 2008 Ghana training program. During the past year we have received many requests from Volunteers and family members alike regarding travel plans, sending money, relaying messages and mail, etc. As we are unable to involve ourselves in the personal arrangements of Volunteers, we would like to offer you advice and assistance in advance by providing specific examples of situations and how we suggest they be handled.

1. Irregular Communication. (Please see #3 for the mailing address to Peace Corps' office in Accra the capital of Ghana). The mail service in Ghana is not as efficient as the U.S. Postal Service. Thus, it is important to be patient. It can take from three to four weeks for mail coming from Ghana to arrive in the United States via the Ghanaian mail system. From a Volunteer's post, mail might take up to one to two months to reach the United States depending upon how far the Volunteer is from the capital city, Accra. Sometimes mail is hand carried to the States by a traveler and mailed through the U.S. postal system. This leg of the trip can take another several weeks as it is also dependent on the frequency of travelers to the U.S.

We suggest that in your first letters, you ask your Volunteer family member to give an estimate of how long it takes for him or her to receive your letters and then try to establish a predictable pattern of how often you will write to each other. Also try numbering your letters so that the Volunteer knows if he or she missed one. Postcards should be sent in envelopes--otherwise they may be found on the wall of the local post office.

Volunteers often enjoy telling their "war" stories when they write home. Letters might describe recent illnesses, lack of good food, isolation, etc. While the subject matter is often good reading material, it is often misinterpreted on the home front. Please do not assume that if your family member got sick that he or she has been unattended. The city of Accra has medical and dental facilities, and there is a Peace Corps Doctor and nurse there as well. Most Volunteers can reach Accra in less than one day's time. Many Volunteers also have access to a telephone (most have cell phones!) so that they can call our Medical Office. In the event of a serious illness the Volunteer is sent to Accra and is cared for by our Medical Unit. If the Volunteer requires medical care that is not available in Ghana, he/she will be medically evacuated to South Africa or the United States. Fortunately, such circumstances are very rare.

If for some reason your communication pattern is broken and you do not hear from your family member for at least one month, you should contact the Office of Special Services (OSS) at Peace Corps in Washington at 1-800-424-8580, extension 1470. The OSS will then call the Peace Corps Director in Ghana, and ask him to check up on the Volunteer. Also, in the case of an emergency at home (death in the family, sudden illness, etc.), please do not hesitate to call OSS immediately, so that the Volunteer can be informed in person by a member of Peace Corps/Ghana staff.

2. Telephone Calls. The telephone system in Ghana has reliable service to the United States. While few Volunteers have access to a telephone (land line) at their sites, more and more Volunteers are choosing to buy cell phones. Some sites have clear cell phone reception and others do not. In any case, most Volunteers have access to a phone (land line or cell) when they travel to a larger town within a few hours from their sites.

When dialing direct to Ghana from the U.S., dial 011 (the international access code) + 233 (the country code) + the number. Volunteers generally set up phone calls with people in the U.S. in advance, and have the distant party call them, which is much less expensive than calling the U.S. from Ghana. You may also choose to call your volunteer on their cellphone, if they decide to buy one in Ghana.

The Ghana Desk in Washington, D.C. usually calls the Peace Corps office in Accra at least once a week. However, these calls are reserved for business only and we cannot relay personal messages over the phone. If you have an urgent message regarding travel plans, etc., you can call the Desk, and the message will be relayed.

3. Sending Packages. Parents and Volunteers like to send and receive care packages through the mail. Every package mailed to the PC Accra P.O. box is opened by Ghana postal staff in the presence of a Peace Corps staff member to verify that the contents match what is listed on the (small green) declaration form. For example, it is therefore not appropriate to write "Religious material inside" if there are no religious materials inside.

You may want to send inexpensive items through the mail, but there is no guarantee that these items will arrive. We do not recommend, however, that costly items be sent through the mail. Even though most Volunteers eventually get local post office boxes, you may always use the following address to send letters and/or packages to your family member:

John Doe, PCV

Peace Corps

P.O. Box 5796

Accra-North, Ghana

West Africa

It is recommended that packages be sent in padded envelopes if possible, as boxes tend to be taxed more frequently. Packages can be sent via surface mail (2-3 weeks arrival time) or by ship (4-6 months). The difference in cost can be a factor in deciding which method to utilize. For lightweight but important items (e.g. airline tickets), DHL (an express mail service) does operate in Accra, but costs are very expensive. If you choose to send items through DHL, you must address the package to the Country Director, c/o Peace Corps, 26 West Cantonments, Switchback Lane, Accra, Ghana, West Africa. The telephone number for the Peace Corps office in Ghana is (233) 21-775-984, should DHL need this information. If you send the item to the Country Director, no liability can be assumed. For more information about DHL, please call their toll free number, 1-800-CALL-DHL, or visit their web site at www.dhl.com.

Sending airplane tickets and/or cash is not recommended. Certain airlines will allow you to buy a prepaid ticket in the States; they will telex their Accra office to have the ticket ready. Unfortunately, this system is not always reliable. Many airlines (eg., KLM, Air France, Sabena, Ghana Airways) fly into Accra, but each has its own policy on pre-paid tickets. Please call the airline of your choice for more information. You could also send tickets via DHL as mentioned previously. However, Peace Corps will assume no liability in the event of a lost/stolen airline ticket.

Trying to send cash or airline tickets is very risky and is discouraged. Volunteers are meant to live modestly and not accept any additional financial resources to support their service. If your Volunteer family member requests money from you, it is his/her responsibility to arrange receipt of it. Volunteers will also be aware of people visiting the States and can request that they call his/her family when they arrive in the States should airline tickets need to be sent back to Ghana.

We understand how frustrating it is to communicate with your family member overseas and we appreciate your using this information as a guideline. Please feel free to contact us at the Ghana Desk in Washington, DC, if you have further questions. Our phone number is (800) 424-8580, ext. 2326/2325, or locally at (202) 692-2326/2325.

Sincerely,

Country Desk Officer

Country Desk Assistant

This is all I can say at this point. I'll try and keep the blog up to date in this, the month leading up to my departure.

The fact that I'm leaving for Ghana in a little over 7 months is making it impossible for me to concentrate on anything BUT Ghana. I've been researching everything about the country and keep finding more and more to research.

My first order of business though, besides calling all my family and friends, was to make myself a t-shirt to tell the world...

I mean, come on - who could resist that pun? I think next I'll have to make one that says, "Here today. Ghana tomorrow." Hehehe. The Voits are rubbing off on me.

I also decided that I needed to get my hands on a good guide book for the country. Lonely Planet (often referred to by my friends and I as the traveler's bible) doesn't have a book specifically on Ghana, only one on West Africa in General. That didn't really matter though, as Barnes and Noble carried neither the Lonely Planet West Africa book nor the Guide to Ghana that I eventually settled on. I decided to try Half Price Books on the way home, and though they too were deficient in books on Ghana, I was able to find a Twi-English dictionary. Twi? Yes, Twi. Twi is the most widely spoken of the non-English languages in Ghana. A good starting place for someone like me who is going to be living there.

I'm still on the prowl for guide books and possibly a good map to display prominently on my wall.

Did I'm mention I'm excited?

Here's the news we've all been waiting for.

As I was driving back to Dallas from my dentist appointment in Austin on Monday, I received a phone call from an unidentified number. Since I've been waiting for THE call to come, I answered politely, "Hannah Frank."

"Hi this is ---- from the Peace Corps Placement Office. How are you today?"

Mmmmmm, "Great" now that you've called.

After pulling over and having a thirty minute conversation with the nice lady from DC, I was informed that a letter of invitation was on its way to my door.

For some reason, they could not reveal the specific country to me over the phone, but I did learn my departure date and region - Africa, Sept. 20, 2008. That left me with 3-5 business days in which to pace back in forth in angst, wondering where I could be heading.

You can imagine my excitement when I went to take the trash out on Friday afternoon and saw the mail man at the mail station. Poor man - I probably scared him half to death.

"HEY! Did you bring me anything exciting today?! Possibly a large envelope from Washington?!"

Joy of joys, there it sat, at the bottom of his bin of mail. I could have hugged him, if he had looked more like the sort who would liked to be hugged by a stranger.

I couldn't wait until I got back to my apartment. Halfway between the mail box and my building I read the magical word - "GHANA."

That's right folks. I'm leaving on September 20th for the West Africa nation of Ghana. I haven't had a lot of time to research the country yet, as I had to leave for a retreat about 20 minutes after receiving the letter. I do know off the top of my head that it was the first country to which Peace Corps volunteers were assigned when the program began in 1961. Therefore, I feel like I'm joining quite a team.

I'll try and keep you posted as time toils on between now and then. If you're in the mood for a little reading on the Peace Corps in general between now and then, I've added a bunch of stuff to my website (http://web.mac.com/hannahefrank/iWeb/Site/Peace%20Corps.html).

Until later,

Hannah

Those of you who actually read my blog may have noticed a sizable gap between my last blog entry and this one. The explanation is both simple and complicated. Simple in that I simply don't want to talk about all the shit that's gone down in the past few weeks and complicated in that the shit that has gone down has not been of the sort that is easily explained in a blog entry. To sum things up - people are assholes.

Let's just leave it at that.

That being said, I'd like to think that I've had a good weekend. I finally convinced myself that three weeks of coughing is enough and went to the doctor. Thanks to some amazing antibiotics, I am now over the allergy-induced bronchitis and am able to go about business as usual. Though I had been planning a trip to Big Bend since October, in the past week all the friends who were to join me found a way to cancel on me. I'm not rich by any means; there's no way I can justify driving to Big Bend by myself for a long weekend. I should have been depressed by this development, and I was until I saw my email on Tuesday. As it turned out, my favorite singer-songwriter, Terri Hendrix, was coming through Dallas on Friday night. I bought myself a ticket and went to see her show at Bend Studio (if you haven't been to a show there, you should go - http://www.bendstudio.com). I finally had a chance to thank my rock star friend for the fabulous shirt she sent...

If any of you want to know what's been going on in the past few weeks, you know my number. I've had enough and am ready to move on. If things go as planned my next blog entry should have something to do with my peace corps placement....

I was having the most fabulous trip for the first two days. Yes, the bus ride was long, but not that bad. We had lots of good food and company, especially hanging out on the rooftop terrace in the hostel. The problems started on the third morning.

When I woke up, my first thought was that the "hangover" I had was not in proportion to the amount of alcohol consumed the previous evening. As it turned out, it was not a hangover at all. It was the very beginning of a major case of Montezuma's Revenge.

As the average reader of this blog may already know, I'm quite a well-travelled person. I've been to Mexico numerous times and never once suffered more that what Russell once described as "soft-serve poo." The rules I follow are rather simple - No ice. No water unless from a bottle, even when brushing teeth. Mouth closed in the shower. Nothing fresh that doesn't have a peel. Yet, somehow, by the end of the day on the 30th, I found myself cloistered in one of only two shared bathrooms of the hostel, much to the chagrin of the other residents. I've decided that the fault lies with the chile verde enchiladas I had the night before. But lets go back to the beginning.

After waking and dismissing my mild nausea as the result of our fiesta, I joined the others on a hike to the top of la Buffa, the mountain that over looks the city (which is already at almost 7000 feet). About halfway up the side, I was about to pass out, but still insisted that it was some combination of a hangover and altitude sickness. I made it just shy of the top before I finally relented and laid down in the shade. (On a cool little side note, while laying there, a woman passed with a Peace Corps patch on her bag. I talked to her for about 20 minutes and am still so excited, I can't wait to find out where I'm going).

After a round trip of about 10 miles, we finally made it back to the center of town. I tried to eat some soup but to no avail. I ended up going to bed and not getting up except to go to the bathroom until late the following afternoon.

I like to look at the bright side of things though. Mexican medicine is amazing stuff, though I really don't want to know what's in it. Blake went to the farmacia for me the next morning and broke back some magical pills that in a few short hour took me from unable to hold down water to eating saltines and pounding back the gatorade (I was probably severely dehydrated at this point, but as I had other problems, I wasn't too upset by it). By nighttime, I was ready to enjoy my New Year's Eve, even if the celebration wasn't exactly what I had in mind.

The three of us staying in the hostel (out of our group of seven), were invited to the house of Senora Magdalena, the other four's host. She made roast pork and insisted upon ringing in 2008 with cider and 12 grapes (each person must make a wish for each one - 12 because of the 12 months). I never thought that celebrating New Year's with an 82-year-old woman would be so much fun, but we had an amazing night. And it wasn't just because I was finally able to hold down something other than crackers, though that was certainly exciting.

Nonetheless, I'll have to remember next time to order Mexico sin vomito.

I love Guanajuato. I had forgotten how much until I stepped off the bus yesterday morning and on to its busy streets. After over 24 hours of bus riding madness, from Houston to McAllen to Leon, I finally made it back to my favorite Mexican city.

It´s a city unlike many others in this country. As a UNESCO World Heritage site, regular traffic is kept to a minimum and only cars and smaller buses can navigate its narrow, winding streets. Roaming about as a pedestrian is quite an adventure.

We arrived only yesterday morning and already it feels like we´ve been here a week. The food is sooo tasty and sooo cheap, as are the cervezas. After a relaxing first day, we hopped a bus this morning to Cristo Rey, a monument to (who else) Jesus at the top of a mountain. It was a long, very bumping and hair-raising bus ride but we got to see the giant statue. It was worth it, as the view from the top was amazing.

I´m not sure what the plan is for the next few days. We´re just sort of playing it by ear. But odds are they will include 1) good picture opportunities 2) tasty yet cheap meals and 3) siestas on the rooftop terrace of our hostel, with cervezas in hand. What more could a girl as for?

I've had quite a bit of fun these past few days. After a couple of days with Grandma Glenna and Grandpa P.D. in Glen Rose, I finally made it to Austin on Thursday night, just in time for dollar night at the Library (yes, there is a bar called the Library - and here you were thinking I was a giant nerd). The plans I had made to meet up with some friends for said dollar night didn't pan out, but as luck would have it, I had a wonderful alternative. The day before I received an email out of the blue from a good friend of mine who I hadn't heard from in quite a while.

I hadn't seen my e-club buddy Chad in a couple of years at least (we tried and couldn't remember when the last time was). He's been down in the Caribbean for awhile helping the Bach's rebuild their sailboat (check out www.kaiohana.com if you want to know what I'm talking about). He's in town for a couple of months right now before he heads to Prague for at least 6 months and possibly 4 years if things go as planned. So of course I had to see him! I drove down to his neck of the woods as soon as I got into Austin.

A few rounds of pool and a couple of beers later, at about 1 in the morning on Friday, we came up with a brilliant plan (or at least what we thought was a brilliant plan at the time). Desiring to get away from the traffic that was sure to come from the hoards of holiday shoppers on the Saturday before Christmas, we decided that a roadtrip to Enchanted Rock was in order. And you can't just drive out there for the day. Well, I guess technically you could, but that would just be lame. By the end of the evening we had decided to head out early on Saturday and camp out at the base of the rock (since they won't let you camp on top of it :-D) until Sunday morning.

What we didn't realize at that time was the weather forecast for Saturday night wasn't quite ideal for camping. But Mavericks that we are, we couldn't be swayed. While Saturday would prove to be sunny and beautiful, the solstice sunset brought with it frigid temperatures, just as the weatherman predicted. Instead of the nice 65 we had seen during the day, we were subjected to a low of 28, according to the ranger lady I asked before we left. We had a good time though. The hiking in the daytime was fabulous, I had a chance to get a growler of ale from the Frederickburg Brewery as we passed through on the way to Enchanted Rock (even if it was too cold to drink any of it while we were there), and I had a wonderful time catching up with a good friend.

I would however like to take this moment to pause and say thank you to the powers that be for the wonderful gift we has a people have in woolly socks. In the words of Pablo Neruda,

"Beauty is twice beauty

and what is good is doubly good

when it is a matter of two socks

made of wool in winter." (From "Ode to My Socks")

And on that note, I'll say goodbye with some words once sung by Robert Earl Keen,

"Merry Christmas everybody. Happy Holidays, yall"

(You'll want to download and listen to "Merry Christmas from the Family" at this point, as it's the only Christmas song I can listen to over and over again and not go crazy).

No, I haven't gotten the good news I've been waiting for (my Peace Corps assignment, that is). But I did get some good news this weekend that was almost as nice to hear. The semester grades are up and (drumroll...) I ended up with 4 A's and 2 A+'s. Woohoo! Much better than I thought was possible. I am definitely guilty of being a senior, and spent much of the semester playing catchup due to my spectacular ability to procrastinate. But I made it through alright, and it's all downhill from here. Next semester's classes will be difficult, but the graduate ones (which are the hardest of the ones I'm taking) don't count towards my GPA, which takes quite a bit of pressure off.

I'm still waiting for that dang letter to come from the Peace Corps. It'll be awhile yet, I'm sure. But I keep deluding myself into thinking that it could come any day now between now and May. I therefore check the mailbox religiously each day at 5 oclock. Even on Sundays, just in case Saturday's mail was late or something. I just want to know where I'm going. That's all I ask.

Whatever the case may be, I'm getting more and more excited each day.

Today was wonderful. A nice bike ride in even nicer weather (shoot, the temperature shot up into sandal range today), and a concert by my very favorite singer/songwriter. Terri - thanks for writing my theme songs. Some day, I might get around to writing one of my own. But first, I have to figure out this mandolin...

Right now though, there's a beer in the fridge with my name on it (quite literally - I didn't want Erica to drink it) and a book that I've been dying to read.

Hannah B., signin' off.

I made it through finals week...finally. It was one of those horrible semesters where I had an actual exam in almost every class. Bleh. But I managed to get through them without going crazy, mostly because they were nicely spaced. I'm still waiting for grades to come out but I feel like I did alright, in most of the classes anyway.

So where does that leave me for the next month? It's turning into quite a busy winter for me. I'm flying to St. Louis tomorrow afternoon. After enjoying a wonderful evening of Chris' hospitality (which we all know is awesome), I'm stealing his car and driving to Southeast Missouri State University in Cape Girardeau. SEMO is home to the Center for Faulkner Studies, which houses one of the best Faulkner archives in the country. They have a couple of items that I am interested in looking at, as they relate to my honors thesis. After spending all day in a sort of nerd euphoria, I'll head to Carbondale to hang with the Leonards (it's only an hour to Carbondale as opposed to the two hours it would take to get back to St. Louis). After that I'll loop back around to St. Louis and spend Thursday hanging out, doing something fun like going to the museum (which is free in St. Louis and quite good). Maybe a sandwich on The Hill (little Italy).

I'll be back in Dallas on Friday. Saturday I have tickets to see my hero, Terri Hendrix, at some little place up near Denton. (I'm sooooo very excited about this - my last chance to see her for quite a while). Then it's another week of getting by in Dallas, with most of my friends gone for the holidays.

On Thursday (the 13th), I'm going to head down to Austin for a long weekend. Uncle Todd and I are contemplating a whirlwind trip to Denver (now that there's nonstop service there from Austin), to see cousin Susan and maybe get some snowboarding in. Then once again it's back to Dallas to deal with more stuff.

Christmas. Bleh. We all know how that is. I wish I could just skip over it. Except for maybe the annual Christmas Eve mission to the Armadillo Xmas Bazaar with Uncle T to see the Texana Dames play and get some cds at Cheapos. I missed that last year because of the jerks in Russia, but not this year.

The most exciting thing about my break from school comes right after Christmas. Molly and I decided that sitting around in our respective hometowns for the week after Christmas (which happens to be her 21st birthday) would be just too boring. So we bought a couple of bus tickets. We're leaving on the Greyhound from Houston on the 27th, will arrive in McAllen (deep south Texas) later that day, and hop another bus which will take us across the border and all the way to Guanajuato. Woohoo! Some friends are meeting us in McAllen and traveling with us from there. More importantly, these friends speak Spanish (all I can do is order drinks and ask how much something costs). We found a great hostel for a great price. We're going to live it up in one of our favorite towns. Maybe even see some of our local friends. I'm so excited I can't sit still.

Unfortunately, I still have to pack and get up really early in the morning. So adieu for now.