The Good the Bad and the Ugly

Finally. I have time to write. Let me begin by telling you that I can't even articulate what it is really like here in Ghana, but that by my 2nd day here I had no idea what I had gotten myself into, and seriously wanted to go home. But now it's been a week and a after a nice, fun weekend in Kokrobite, a beach "resort" and I am feeling semi-normal and enjoying myself.
I arrived at 8 o'clock on Tues. night and was picked up with a girl from my program named Rebecca, who is currently my roommate. We were taken into a completely different world-- a concrete compound with a very extended family--Auntie Dinah, Papa, Ebenezer, Zimbatia, Nicolas, Felicia, Janet, George and the little ones, Edna and Edward. There are always new people I have yet to meet hanging around the house. The 3 other volunteers were there to greet us, and being that I really had to use the restroom, I was immediately schooled by a stranger in the Ghanian way of peeing in the "shower." It's a concrete 4 sided structure that has no roof but a drain, so you pee there and take your bucket shower there as well. Our room is set up like a dorm situation with bunk beds and mosquito nets, and that is where we "take" all of our meals, (as a local would say). The meals are typically bread and butter for breakfast, as Auntie Dinah bakes and sells the bread to our neighborhood. (It is called Dome by the way. Pronounced Doe-may) Dogs, cats and chickens run freely through out the house, but you have to understand that it is not our type of house--it's very airy and doesn't have any outside doors. It helps you to really hate roosters. The backyard consists of the dump, a large heap of rubbish, a chicken/rabbit coop, the aforementioned shower, and of course, my favorite, the outhouse. If you ever find yourself in the situation of using a community outhouse with not toilet seat, the best advice I can give you is to breath through your mouth and forget you have a nose. The neighboring bar has to rent out space from Auntie Dinah because she has a refrigerator, so you go across the street to buy beer and they come to our house to get it. Funny, eh? (One of the volunteers is Canadian, and eh is quite catching)
Everyone is so nice and we have had so many laughs over our culture shock and bonded quickly. Ghanaians are very touchy feely people and it is not usual to have someone holding your hand as a friendly gesture. You have to get used to people always wanting to talk to you, shake your and and hug you on a 24 hour basis. The guys involved in the program are our constant guardians, they go everywhere with us, do everything for us, are very sweet and trust-worthy. So, my other brothers here are named Issac, Eddie (pronounced Edie) Rasta, and James. On the third night there, Yotam, the token male volunteer, brought out his guitar and we all had a lovely sing-along with the family and neighbors. It was a great night and helped me slip a little further into a comfort zone. (and I do mean a little, because I still can't really sleep all that well though my appetite is greatly improved. Still, we can't finish a plate for some reason).
The program is very intense. These people have been dancing and drumming all their lives but expect us to pick up the steps right way. We have learned 3 dances, along with accompanying AIDS dramas which we practice in a rural village. Tons of people, especially children, come out to watch us practice and I am TRYING, but that's about all I can say as for my dancing progress. It's funny because at practice you are such a spectacle but you are so busy being a voyeur that you hardly notice. One particular little girl always finds me and hangs on to my hand, smiling proudly at her friends. It's a trip. Our actual first performance is on Tues. so one more day to practice and we go into the trenches. I think the fact that us North Americans are trying to be a part of the culture is what really matters and it draws a big crowd. I'm excited and a bit nervous. It is so crazy barely eating and then working out but atleast it's a cooler time of year, over-cast and muggy, but pretty bareable.
After a grueling 3 days (yes it was only 3 days!) we got to take that excursion to the beach that I was talking about. It was a little rustic paradise, at Big Milly's Backyard a community of bungalows, Rastafarains, travelers and locals situated beach-side. I was thrilled to get there and eat spaghetti, have my shower come out of a hose instead of a bucket and to escape the roosters for 2 nights. Last night they had a giant Reggae party, complete with live music and endless dancing (in the rain nontheless). So many nice people from all over the world came there as a retreat--2 guys working at a Liberian refugee camp, a British medical student, some serious Rastas who really felt my vibe etc. etc. I was a hit at the concert, being bombarded with 3 men at a time attempting to dance with me. I was able to elude them (mostly, with some help from my girls and Ghanaian brothers). I woke up this morning feeling great as I got a good night's sleep for maybe the first time since my arrival thanks to some Ambien.
So, I know my writing is so crazy but so am I, rushing against the clock to get out as much as possible, yet missing so many details! Is Africa, poor? Yes. Is it dirty? Yes. Have we gotten sick? You betcha. Is it so amazingly foreign that it makes my head spin? Yes. But the most important thing is that this is experience has already been so valuable and overwhelming and humbling! I miss my loved ones like no other and I appreciate home so very much! It is actually agonizing how much I miss Brett. Thanks for reading! I'm looking forward to your comments! Bye for now! :)