WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN LIFE THROWS YOU A CURVE BALL?

Monday, August 17, 2009

What's Next?

So... now that Milestone is finished and being put out into the world, now that I've been to Africa to volunteer as I always dreamed about... now that I visited an old friend in Hibernia, I am left with figuring out how to close ye ol' documentary. Do I simply say my equivalent of "good night and good luck" and move on? Do I end things in a more shock value way by say - mooning the audience? Throw a party? Run naked through the streets? There are just so many options...

But in thinking about it - this documentary is not about exposing an issue. It's not about illuminating a cause that had previously gone unnoticed. This is about what you do when your life takes a turn that you hadn't planned on. Hopefully many people can relate to the idea and, I'll admit, on my best days I hope someone somewhere sees the documentary and feels a little better. But I know that this isn't a story that is going to save the world. Believe me, I totally get that. So, if it's not a story that gives out ideas and arguments and then backs up said arguments with interviews and what-not and then ends, then how does the story culminate? How do you finish a storyline - when - in actuality my story isn't (unless a piano drops on my head) finishing? I'm closing one chapter and diving into a new one. So what is it that would send that message? And frankly, I don't think mooning people sends that message. What then?

SKY DIVING!

Nothing says throwing yourself into what's to come like jumping out of a moving plane! Throw caution (along with your body) to the wind!

That's it! That's next!

Holy shit!

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Milestone is DONE done!

Milestone is finished! The dvd has been burned, duplicated and put into fancy cases with artwork and everything! And to all of that I say... Phew!

Now we're onto the film festival world! I feel like I'm back applying to college again... will they like me? Will I fit in? Will I like my roommate (okay, maybe not so much that one, but the others definitely still apply). It's so hard to know what is going to excite someone about a short film - other than it not being awful. Granted I've been to a number of film festivals, but to tell you the truth, there's never really seemed to be any rhyme or reason to the films that were chosen. Sometimes they'll put the films into themes: like comedies, thrillers, experimental etc., but other than that, there was always a broad range in production value, story content and length.

So where will Milestone be seen? Who knows? But I can't wait to find out!

Thanks to everyone involved!

-jules

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Milestone in Post Production



The short film I wrote and directed, titled, Milestone is very close to being finished. Alicia is furiously editing it and Banana Whale is providing the music, and there’s color correction happening, and foley being added...all sorts of fabulous post-production things are occurring. So, that means it will soon be reaching its finished line; which is thrilling for me!

I’ve been getting asked a lot about what the experience of directing was like and usually I respond with very short answers like ‘I liked it,’ or ‘I learned a lot’, or some sort of something that was positive but general and allowed the person to get on with their life. Lately however, while sitting with Alicia and going through the fine tuning process I’ve realized something... The biggest thing I’ve learned about directing is that the number 1 thing you need to do is surround yourself with people who are both honest and smarter than you. It can be hard to see the forest for the trees when you are listening to your own words and watching performances that you’ve directed. As I expected, there were moments that I would’ve done differently if I had to do it over again and there were lines that, once they moved from the page to the screen were no longer necessary. While I, on my own, could’ve sussed some of these things out, the fact that I had Alicia sitting there with me, offering her thoughts and concerns helped immensely. With her editor’s eye she was able to not only offer suggestions, but was actually able to put those suggestions into the video so I could see them in action. That was amazingly helpful!

So... to all of you newbie directors out there like me... do not operate as a one person show – surround yourself with people that think like you – only better, faster and smarter. You’ll thank me later!

Monday, July 6, 2009

Best Laid Plans Where You Live



So... I realize that I haven’t written in awhile. I wish I could say that I’ve had a good excuse, but alas, I have nothing to offer you other than being in the midst of some things that made it difficult to take a step back and assess. In short, I’ve been avoiding you. That’s right people... I have been avoiding a blog! But hear we are – almost a year since I left for Ghana.

But I have news... First – check out the cool logo for the film that Melissa Jernigan at OTL created for me! I think she did a great job and am grateful to her for her patience in my not knowing what sort of graphic best summarized the project. Big thanks to her!

Second, while I, again, cannot really get into some of the details of what’s occurred in my situation I will say this. It is a SMALL world out there in a very big way. People talk about how huge NYC is, but truly, NY’ers (at least my friends have agreed with this), often stick to their small neighborhood most of the time. You create your own little safe haven in the midst of the city’s noisy chaos. Certainly for me, I’ve had to work at creating a whole new existence in my own neighborhood. Since it’s the same place that I moved into as a married person, all of my beginning memories of living there were associated with that identity. And then breakups happen and you find out how amazing it is that the simplest things trigger monumental emotional recollections – such as walking your dog, or going to certain restaurants. In the beginning of this process, your neighborhood is like a dysfunctional home that feels both safe and like its inundated with land mines. But then, the more things you do on your own, the more territory you take back and fill with new happenings, the more the “safety” scale tips in your direction. It’s your home again.

Neighborhood, by definition (I even looked this up), means “an area surrounding a particular place, person or object”.

Perhaps that’s why then, while chillaxing around my neighborhood with my dog, I was pretty jarred by seeing my past hanging out with his future only blocks from where we lived. Life winked at me in the form of a very jarring reminder that people don’t operate under the same rules. Perhaps nobody is right or wrong, but you learn quickly that the feeling of safety that you’ve built is shaky. If you assume that people have the same life rules that you do, and you create your world with that assumption in mind, you can, like me, be pummeled by the fact that that is wrong, wrong, wrong! So here I am again, learning something new. I’m growing people! If only the emotional growth could expand to my actual physical growth I’d be smiling from ear to ear! Looking back, there’s been so much disappointment this year – so many surprises that I wasn’t at all prepared for or deserved. There were things that I was so sure of a year ago but now realize I was completely wrong. But I’m not in charge of any of those things. Sometimes I can’t help but let the disappointment wash over me and follow me around, but other times, I’ve realized that what I can also do is simply focus on the things I am in control of and surround myself with people who operate under similar life rules as my own. And maybe that’s not a best laid plan, but it’s the best I’ve got right now.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Best Laid Vacations

What do you do when you are given terrible news? Not, tragic news, as in someone dying unexpectedly (or dying at all for that matter), but news that is so upsetting you start hysterically laughing? Or news that you should’ve heard ages ago, but you find out that you’re one of the last to know? Recently, I discovered the answer to these questions and found that for me, I needed to go away. Far away. Life is always cause and effect, right? You’re always acting on something and suffering or celebrating in the consequences. And when they are your decisions; when they are your actions, you can (and should) own it – good or bad. You can say, ‘well, this was my choice and so, I own the outcome.’ However, when something happens outside of your purview but grossly affects your world and your view of it, it’s jarring to say the least.

I needed to go away. I needed to be with someone that I knew cared about me and felt some semblance of loyalty to me. I also needed some time to be by myself. That said, I don’t want to give the impression that my friends here are disloyal because that would be a huge misrepresentation. Although, it’s true that, along the way this year, I have lost many number of people through my change in circumstances, I have also discovered that I have some incredible, devoted (and hilarious) people surrounding me. For that, I am more than grateful. But, they are here and I needed to go away.

I have a friend in Ireland. I met him many years ago in an acting program and we’ve stayed in touch ever since. He’s lent me his ear this year as I blathered on about everything and so I thought, who better to see and where better to go than to Ireland to visit Brendan? A successful actor in Ireland, I was lucky in that he had a week off to take me around to his favorite spots and introduce me to some of the people in his life. I got to rediscover an old friend that I hadn’t seen in ages while I took in some sites I’d never seen before. The freshness of it was grand. Amazingly, I (who normally can’t function on less than 8 hours of sleep) barely suffered from jet lag. I think my body was just longing for the change. So, am I still trying to tackle making sense of news that I didn’t see coming? Yes. But somehow, sitting at your friend’s kitchen table as he makes you a fabulous breakfast and tries out his American accent on you is a treasure. Somehow it makes your own small world make a tiny bit more sense.

And you discover that seven days fly faster than a light sneeze.

What do you do when you are given terrible news? Not, tragic news, as in someone dying unexpectedly (or dying at all for that matter), but news that is so upsetting you start hysterically laughing? Or news that you should’ve heard ages ago, but you find out that you’re one of the last to know? Recently, I discovered the answer to these questions and found that for me, I needed to go away. Far away. Life is always cause and effect, right? You’re always acting on something and suffering or celebrating in the consequences. And when they are your decisions; when they are your actions, you can (and should) own it – good or bad. You can say, ‘well, this was my choice and so, I own the outcome.’ However, when something happens outside of your purview but grossly affects your world and your view of it, it’s jarring to say the least.

I needed to go away. I needed to be with someone that I knew cared about me and felt some semblance of loyalty to me. I also needed some time to be by myself. That said, I don’t want to give the impression that my friends here are disloyal because that would be a huge misrepresentation. Although, it’s true that, along the way this year, I have lost many number of people through my change in circumstances, I have also discovered that I have some incredible, devoted (and hilarious) people surrounding me. For that, I am more than grateful. But, they are here and I needed to go away.

I have a friend in Ireland. I met him many years ago in an acting program and we’ve stayed in touch ever since. He’s lent me his ear this year as I blathered on about everything and so I thought, who better to see and where better to go than to Ireland to visit Brendan? A successful actor in Ireland, I was lucky in that he had a week off to take me around to his favorite spots and introduce me to some of the people in his life. I got to rediscover an old friend that I hadn’t seen in ages while I took in some sites I’d never seen before. The freshness of it was grand. Amazingly, I (who normally can’t function on less than 8 hours of sleep) barely suffered from jet lag. I think my body was just longing for the change. So, am I still trying to tackle making sense of news that I didn’t see coming? Yes. But somehow, sitting at your friend’s kitchen table as he makes you a fabulous breakfast and tries out his American accent on you is a treasure. Somehow it makes your own small world make a tiny bit more sense.

And you discover that seven days fly faster than a light sneeze.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Best Laid Plans: Milestone Part 3



Every writer says to write what they know. So this past year or so, that’s what I’ve been trying to do. Writing about what I know has certainly brought on Best Laid Plans, for example. It’s brought on my first effort at a novel and it also brought on Milestone. While the circumstances surrounding the plot in Milestone are certainly not autobiographical, the emotional place the story lives in is. So then, the question becomes, how do I direct a story that comes from such a familiar emotional place? Truth is, I had no idea.

In watching Becky's and Brian's audition, I realized that it was so helpful to see great actors interpret the script in their own personal way. They brought certain moments and ideas to their performance that struck me as both interesting and different. So while I was entering territory I’d never really been in before with regard to directing a film, the one thing I did know was that I wanted to hear from the actors. I wanted their ideas and thoughts about who they were playing. This could not only broaden the story in that three heads are better than one, but it could also move me further away personally from the story – which I thought was vital. Nobody wants a director that is too tied in emotionally to a story that they can’t see the forest for the trees, so talking to them – getting their point of view was amazingly helpful.

Rehearsals were a blast. Brian and Becky were so much fun to work with and I got lucky in that they were open to any and all ideas. Whenever you’re trying something new – and even sometimes when you’re doing something you’ve done a thousand times before, you’re always waiting for someone to call you out as a fraud. You’re always anticipating that someone will tell you that you don’t know what you’re doing. Thankfully, both Becky and Brian never looked at me sideways, never called me out as a first-time writer/director and always added on to my proposals. I realized I loved directing and the push and pull of knowing when to throw your two cents in and when to let the actors run with it.

I know that some film directors do very little rehearsal, but for me it was essential. Playing a new role on set meant that I wouldn't have the space in my wee brain to really give the actors my full attention once shooting began. I didn't want to be in the position of debating moments on set while the rest of the crew was waiting around. I knew that ideas would still be percolating but I wanted to make sure the actors had a solid foundation to work from (and me too for that matter). Although I can't speak for them, I think the actors were pretty keen on the rehearsal process as well - or - being good actors, they surely hid it very well! By the time the production dates approached, I felt pretty damn good about the performances and could make room in the 'ol noggin for everything else I needed to be thinking about... like say... the shot list.

Yikes.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Best Laid Plans: Milestone Part 2

Of the two characters in the movie, I assumed that finding Billy would be more difficult than finding Denise. I know a number of great actresses in the city and knew that any number of them could take a bite out of the role. However, with great actresses giving their all to a role, you quickly realize that what it comes down to are small details. How did Alicia and I see Denise? What kind of vibe did she have? Should she come off as a professional? As a giddy woman doing something she’s never down before? As a ball of nerves? Tightly wound? All of these things? In terms of physical appearance, I saw a huge range of people – all different sizes, shapes and look. Alicia and I had agreed that Denise, above all, needed to look like an every-woman. She needed to be someone that we could all recognize. So again, we were back to just needing a great actress.

Decisions, decisions...

When Becky White read for the role, she was in San Francisco doing a play. I always feel it’s a disadvantage to see someone on tape when you’re seeing everyone else in person, but regardless, I had asked her to read for Denise and she had expressed interest in the role. Part of what I had appreciated about Becky’s audition was the amount of work she had clearly put into it beforehand. There is nothing more satisfying as a writer/director than seeing that a person has put a lot of energy into their audition. It gives the sense that the project will matter just as much to the actor as it does to you. And Becky definitely gave us that sense. Beyond that, casting Becky was a lesson for me in terms of learning about the nuances in the casting process. When you see a number of great actresses, it may just simply come down to a person’s energy or some small detail that they brought to their audition that catches your eye. It wasn’t that anyone else was bad or wrong, quite the opposite actually, it was just this indescribable nuance that we saw in her.

So the casting process was finished. I had my Billy and now I had my Denise.

On to rehearsals.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Best Laid Plans: Milestone


Finding Billy.

How about this order at a drive-thru window: I'd like a male prostitute between the ages of 25 and 30, with a great body and more specifically, a six-pack; who is not a street thug, but more like a sensitive, high-priced escort who can give you the best sex you've ever had? And can I have fries with that?

When one writes a short film that includes a man with a six-pack, it means that when the director has to cast said man, they have to ensure that said actor has said six-pack. Needless to say, I had girlfriends offering to volunteer for the casting session to help me make such a difficult decision.

I've helped On the Leesh cast stuff before but, while we may have been seeking actors with a certain look, we've never had such a specific body requirement as this story called for; and I was never the director. So beyond making sure that they had the physical requirements of the role, I had to make sure that they were also able to make the emotional connection to the part.

Obviously, I'm usually on the side of the actor. Going into auditions and getting notes from the director and/or casting director and trying to suss out what they wanted. With me on the other side of the table, I wanted to make sure that I was clear in what I said; that my notes made sense. That I wasn't putting any actors in the confused position I've occasionally found myself in when getting a note. I was incredibly nervous, actually. I wanted an actor that came in and seemed to be in the same ballpark as how I'd heard the role in my head, but was also able to change it up if necessary. And I knew that I needed to give myself room for error, so I also wanted an actor who would be able to bring their own ideas to the table as well. And I needed the actor to work for no pay.

Hmmmmm... tall order.

Half-way through the auditions, in walked Brian Patacca, an actor On the Leesh knows quite well since he's a regular on one of our webseries, The In-Betweens of Holly Malone. He had seen the ad for the audition and asked if he could read for the role of Billy. Now, just to be clear, we saw a lot of guys that day. We were sent A LOT of headshots. Apparently, there is an abundant amount of six-pack-having male actors in NYC. Who knew? So we saw a number of guys who gave great auditions, but Brian walked in and nailed it. For me, it was like the directing gods were giving a little gift to the newbie. He made me interested in the character in a new way. We called him that night and he accepted the role.

We had our Billy. We were half-way there in this two-person story.

All that's left was finding Denise...

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Best Laid Plans - Introducing Milestone (Part 19)

Like most adventures, coming home from Ghana felt a little... Well... Anticlimatic. I had an amazing time but needless to say the week flew by and it seemed suddenly Joe and I were back on the plane (where we were sanitized) and heading home. Once we got back, I gave everyone their gifts and then Joe left the project and I was left with this footage thinking – what do I do now? Things didn’t feel over. It seemed like it was part of a larger story. What is this life I’m leading now? What does it look like? The trip to Africa felt like just a part of it rather than the total IT. Everyone around me was either very seriously attached, married and/or starting a family of their own. I couldn’t see my life in theirs anymore and Africa didn’t change any of that (of course). It’s not that I necessarily expected it to, but after it was over I felt like it was more of an inauguraul entry into a new life rather than the culmination of something. Like it or not, my life isn’t going to be filled with coming home to a husband or partner. It’s not about sleepless nights with a crying baby. So what is it? The question again comes back to – what is my Plan B?

The answer is: Adventure.

A couple of months back from Ghana, I had an idea. A short comedy about a woman who’s friends go to extreme measures to help her get over her husband leaving. It was about 10 pages long and just launched out of me onto the page. When it was finished, I gave it to Alicia to see what she thought. The next thing I know, we’re talking about adding it to the On the Leesh roster of projects and she’s asking me if I have any interest in directing. Me, direct? I’ve never directed a film before. I always looked at having someone else direct my words as it being a safety net for the script. Writer/directors don’t always have the ability to see the forest for the trees when something isn’t working – and I greatly feared that. But isn’t that what this year is about – doing things I fear?

Suddenly, part 2 of my story was becoming clear.

Here we go... I was going to direct a film! And so... I introduce you to “Milestone”.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Best Laid Plans (Part 18)

Voodoo (Part 2)

So there I am in a hut with my fellow traveler, Jodee and two women from the voodoo village. They’re helping us take our shirts and shoes off. Yep, shirts were coming off. Honestly, beyond my initial surprise at the priest’s request, the first thing that came to mind was ‘why in the hell did I wear the fartiest bra in the world that day’. Oh well...
After Jodee and I took our shirts off, the very gentle women then wrapped us in white sheets. So there we stood, wrapped and ready for the church. The Voodoo priest told the group that appropriate attire whilst in the church did not include shoes or a shirt. So while the men just disrobed out outside, Jodee and I were taken to a more private area.

Then we were ready.

Our group was escorted into the church. I didn’t know what to expect in there – I didn’t know just how ill the people would be and what sort of ceremonies would take place. It also wasn’t a church in the way that I knew them. It didn’t have tall ceilings, it didn’t have a steeple, or pews, but it was an honored, though makeshift space. The benches were in an L shape and the priest and his assistant sat in chairs at the front. Our group filed in and sat down on the nearest benches and, after a hello from the parishioners, the music began. It was loud and beautiful and heartfelt. I don’t know what I had anticipated I’d feel when I went into that church, but it was not this. It was like the rest of the world closed down and there was only this space with these people. The music and the singing was amazingly engaging and then, two-by-two, people got up and danced toward the priest. This was a celebration and nobody seemed ill at all. It was like they were all borrowing energy from each other and were moved to move. Clearly, what I don’t know about voodoo is a lot.

Robert and Richard turned to me again to see if I wanted to say something to the priest about my heartbreak. I couldn’t do it. First of all, I’m sure that all of these people had way bigger issues that required his attention and secondly, I didn’t want anything to invade this experience.

So here’s my advice... If you ever have the opportunity to go to a voodoo village in Ghana, do it.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Best Laid Plans (Part 17)

What would you ask of a voodoo priest? (Part 1)

Before going to Ghana, I found out about the history of the practice of voodoo in the country. Although today, the majority of the population of Ghana is Christian, there are a number of Ghanaians that still practice Voodoo. Robert, one of our guides told me that sometimes, if something happens to someone – say something of theirs was stolen, they'll go to a Voodoo Priest to find out who did it and to exact punishment. Both Richard and Robert explained that voodoo is not all negative though – that it’s not about hurting people, but rather about empowering yourself.

My personal experience with this practice stops at those kitschy voodoo dolls that a person can buy at a gift shop. And I’ve never thought of myself as particularly superstitious – though I do often find myself knocking on wood, and if someone asks me if I’ve seen a roach in my apartment I find I’m afraid to answer so that I don’t ‘tempt fate,’ so-to-speak. But beyond that, I walk on cracks in the sidewalk (is this why I trip so much?), I don’t throw salt over my shoulder (though to be honest, that might be because I know I have terrible aim) and I don’t think that when my ears ring it means that someone is thinking about me (or whatever significance that's supposed to hold). However, who am I to say that there isn’t magic out there? People spend their lifetime studying mysticism and voodoo and little ol’ me is certainly in no position to discredit anyone’s belief system. I choose not to question it not only because I am in no position to, but also because, to put it plainly, I would be terrified to piss a practitioner of voodoo off. So, although there was some part of me that feared the unknown, I was also on a mission to experience things in spite of my fear. Therefore, when Richard offered to take me to a voodoo village just beyond our work site, I found myself agreeing without reservation.

I was going to a Voodoo Village!

It was our final day of work and after lunch, Richard and Robert told the group that I had wanted to visit the village and offered to take anyone else who wanted to go. Turns out, everyone was just as curious as I was. So off we all went into the woods. We crossed the very stream that the villagers use to do their laundry and pick up their water and headed into the tall grass. My group was told more about the settlement. It was a healing community that was built for people to stay for the duration of their illness. It seemed that the only people who lived their full-time were the Voodoo Priest and his assistant. This news made me even more curious about what I’d find there. Would there be rows of cots with people extremely ill? Along with the priest, would there be a doctor there as well as a nurse? What types of illnesses did most of the people have? Malaria? Cancer? How did voodoo come into play with a person's sickness.

As we continued walking through the forest, both Richard and Robert told me that I should tell the priest why I was in Ghana. That I should talk to him about my divorce so that he could help me. Hmmmm...
Grateful for the offer, I explained to them that, while I was devastated at the abrupt demise of my marriage, I didn’t want to go back to New York and hear that my husband’s penis randomly detached from the rest of his body (or something along those lines). Again they promised that the priest’s focus would be on helping me, but I still declined.

The dirt pathway in the woods led to an opening, which led to... A Voodoo Shrine. Robert, a believer in much of the religion, turned to me and said quietly, “don’t touch anything.” I absorbed this warning with very wide eyes and an open mouth. Quickly, I turned to Joe who was filming the figure and chided, “don’t you touch anything!” He looked at me like a kid who was wrongly accused of bad behavior by their mother. Granted, he wasn’t touching anything but I didn’t want to take any chances. The shrine was a face with its tongue out. By face, I don’t mean to suggest that it was a statue of someone being silly and jutting their tongue out because trust me, it was nothing like that. It definitely had a more serious tone to it. Adding to that heaviness were objects that I guessed were offerings.

After taking in the shrine, I headed into the village...

Friday, March 13, 2009

Best Laid Plans (Part 16)

Here's the thing... I'm in okay shape. I'm not ready to run a marathon or anything, but I'm pretty capable of carrying semi-heavy loads around. Adept in construction I'm not, but toting things around is totally feasible for me. However, I am (and was) not quite in the necessary shape to carry a freshly cut tree plank from the woods to a construction site. How do I know this, you ask?

Well, see, one day during my week in the village, our group was told to venture into the neighboring woods. We followed Robert down a narrow path and came upon a newly cut humungous tree. The tree had been cut into long planks of wood and that wood needed to get to the construction site, and we were the ones that had to do it. Looking at the longest freaking planks of wood I'd ever seen I thought of those weird health surveys you sometimes have to fill out at the gym or at a doctor's office. Like -
'how quickly do you get out of breath when exercising?'
'how fast can you run a mile?'
'how many wet tree planks can you carry from the woods?'
I had a partner with me, ready to carry the damn plank from this chopped tree to the building site, just as everyone else did. Though it did seem that nobody else's mouth was hanging as far open as mine was. There they'd go, two-by-two, a plank on their head, trudging down the overgrown path, across the dirt road and up to the computer center. Everyone was doing it. I hadn't quite experienced peer pressure like this before. Frankly, I think I would've been more comfortable if the group had taken me out to the woods, surrounded me and offered me cocaine. That, I think I'd be fully able to comprehend how to handle. This, I had no reference point for.

I looked over at my fully willing (and strong) partner. He was ready. And I said to myself - isn't this why I came all the way to Africa - to experience things I had no reference point for? Sure, I anticipated that those things would be more along the lines of new environments, new food, new sites (new bugs), but you simply can't anticipate everything. I mean, when I walk along the lanes of my local park, I'm not exactly observing the vegetation as something that I'm going to pick up and carry to my home. So there I am, in the woods, terrified that I'm going to drop this plank, thereby injuring my poor partner in labor. Of course, everyone is saying that maybe the 5'1" girl should avoid the heavy plank and do something else, but I've been presented with a challenge and I hate backing down from challenges.

They put it on my head.

The plank begins to sink into my brain.

My partner says he's ready to begin the walk back to the site.

The plank sinks further into my brain.

I adjust said plank a little.

I fear brain damage.

[Note: this is the moment in the hollywood story when the protagonist rises up and defeats the challenge. This is their moment of triumph! Success! This is not one of those stories]

I call it quits.

Afraid for, not only mine, but my partner's brain, I say I can't do it. Joe takes over and I try to film him.

Ah, failure. I feel that I'm getting to know you quite well.

The fact is, when you are facing down a failure as big as your marriage breaking down, it makes every other failure that occurs in the same timeframe seem as if it's quite massive. So, while not being able to carry the freaking wood from the forest to the center might seem like a small thing, I was quite pissed and embarrassed. I am getting a divorce AND I can't carry planks of wood. What use am I?

And you can see how the thought process degrades from there...

Joe, of course, was thrilled because it all made for better television programming. CONFLICT! YIPPEE!

Oh, and by the way, do you know who carried the remaining planks of wood? The women of the village. One by one, they carried their very own plank of fresh, wet wood (which were probably around 200lbs. each).

Huh.

Friday, February 27, 2009

Best Laid Plans (Part 15)

Here is a sentence I never thought I would utter...

I HAVE HAD SCHNAPPS WITH THE CHIEF OF A VILLAGE

Have you ever had plain schnapps? I had previously heard of various flavored schnapps... peach, peppermint - but plain? Really? More on this later...

So after a long drive in a packed bus on various paved and dirt roads we arrived in the village. Richard had explained that our first day of work would start with a welcoming ceremony with the Village Elders and Chief.

Then came the schnapps.

As part of the ceremony, a gentleman from the village who assisted in translating, got up and, after a small ceremony within this welcoming ceremony, poured schnapps into a shot glass and began offering it to each person in the room. Part of the ritual included drinking what you could and then pouring the rest of the contents on the floor in front of you. This ritual is one I was *extremely* thankful for! When I brought the glass to my mouth, my nose hairs immediately stood up on end. To say that my lips burned as the liquor touched my mouth is to put it mildly. One thing I knew for sure, any viruses, germs, bugs what-have-you that were making a little home for themselves within my body were now killed dead as the schnapps made its way through my digestive system.

With the welcoming ceremony over we made our way to our construction site. Many in the village were already busily working on the computer center's frame. A Globe Aware group that had been there previously had begun the structure of the building but there was still much work to be done. Next to the soon-to-be computer center was the school. The school itself consisted of cement walls, cement floors and a tin roof. If children wanted to sit on chairs, or use tables, they had to bring it with them every day. Richard had explained that when the previous GA group was there, the school was missing its roof, so they ceased work on the computer center for awhile and instead, put on the roof of that building.

Every day we were there a large number of people from the village came out to work as well. But when a group wasn't there, the work didn't really continue. This is not from laziness, it's from the attention that every day life requires. People have their own work to do whether it be farming, construction, whatever. They have to make a living, and while a computer center would be vital to this village, the building of it isn't going to put food on the table. The Chief had explained to all of us that they wanted to build the computer center for multiple reasons. An obvious one was so that students and adults could have access to the world around them. The village, without proper transportation, is quite far away from even the nearest city of Ho. The Internet could connect them in a way never before experienced. The other reason was because, for the children that went on to higher learning, they more often than not, permanently left the village. The hope was that the village would remain current enough to appeal to its youth so that after they receive their education they would come back and contribute to the life of the village.

On the whole, the village is beautiful. On one side, there were mountains surrounding us. Some of the people I met told me that they farmed there. On the other side was a forest that contained the river that many still used to bathe in, drink from and do their dishes and laundry. This place was different yes, but beautiful none the less. To have the majority of a town come out for an event like this is unheard of in the hustle bustle of a city like Manhattan. Here it seemed that most everyone knew each other. In my world, you rarely gave eye contact to strangers no less know their name.

Different, yes. But different was just what I was looking for.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Best Laid Plans (Part 14)

After the long journey from Accra to Ho, our van pulled into a long dirt driveway. A small, unassuming bar stood at the corner of the road. We’d all come to know this bar as the place to relax on a break or as a way to end the evening. Further on down the drive, there was a large concrete building that was well built and looked rather new. This was to be our home. All of us expressed surprise at the accommodations and I’ll admit that I was glad it wasn’t just me who had anticipated a much more ad hoc dwelling. Each room had two single beds and their own bathroom with... wait for it... flushing European-style toilets! We were told that there wasn’t anything but cold water to be had, but frankly, we’d all assumed that was going to be the case so that was no surprise. But finding out that I had a nice place to put my tushy when nature called felt like a gift from heaven. The place felt almost decadent!

After getting set up in the rooms, Richard picked us up and took us to his place in Ho. There we met his friend and partner, Robert. Robert and Richard – along with working with Globe Aware - had started their own nonprofit called DIVOG (Disaster Volunteers of Ghana). Their group does similar work to Globe Aware and Richard and Robert often host the DIVOG volunteers in their own home. At the time I was there, Robert had given one bedroom of his two bedroom home to two volunteers from Spain while, him, his wife, their children and another family member all stayed in the other room. Their dedication was extraordinary and their energy unbelievable.

After we all settled into his living room, Richard (finally) explained how we’d be spending our week! Every day, we’d be driving about 40 minutes outside of Ho to a small village called Tsyome-Afedo.



Our assignment was to help build a computer center in the village. The project had been started by past groups, but needed a lot more additional work before it was ready. So there it was – a fear realized - I was told I’d be doing construction work. I’d be building something that people were expected to be able to USE. Not only were people going to need to use the building, but they’d also be storing expensive computer equipment between the four walls that I, a lady who often has others change her light bulbs, would be helping to build. In a faraway place, I could hear laughter... I believe it was the ‘get-off-your-ass-and-do-something-gods’ challenging me to, well, get off of my ass.

As would often happen throughout the project, my trepidation brought a big smile to Joe’s face.

Did I remember to bring band-aids?