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, March 13, 2009
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.
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?
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?
Friday, December 12, 2008
On Our Way!
With the recommended dosage of Immodium in my belly, Joe and I got in a cab and journeyed on to our Globe Aware meeting point. In the cab, I was amazed by all of the people on the street selling goods – everything from hairbrushes to snacks. When the cab stopped at a red light, the car was quickly surrounded by people selling their goods/products. Beautifully balancing their items on their head, they’d try to sell their goods to anyone willing. Although it took some time to get used to being surrounded by people whenever the car came to a halt, neither Joe or I felt accosted or anything like that. In some ways, one can see how practical this commerce system is. I think of it as their version of the drive-thru. I wonder though, if the practicality goes both ways. For the driver, it is a very convenient system, but is that true for the seller, stuck outside in the rain and trying to get interest in their sliced fruit? I don’t know.
Our cab driver took us to the Pink Hostel in a different neighborhood in Accra. Again, the lack of familiar addresses made it difficult to ask to go somewhere, but our driver got us their quickly and with ease. Joe and I were the first to arrive at the meeting spot. The small mini-van was waiting, but none of the participants, nor the head of the Globe Aware program in Ghana, Richard, were there. We were told Richard had gone to pick up some of the participants and was on his way back.
The quiet, serene street was in opposition to my mounting excitement. I wanted to be on our way. I wanted to see the Volta region – where we were staying, who we’d be working with, what we’d be doing. Not long after we’d arrived, a cab pulled up and out came a man with a backpack. This was Scott. Not on the original list of participants, Scott, in a constant state of wanderlust, had decided to come at the last minute. In just a few minutes of conversation, I discovered that he’d been to many, many places in the world for work and for recreation. I was immediately envious. What would life be like spending 6 months here, 6 months there? Nervously, I told Scott the project that I was embarking on. Quickly he agreed to be a part of it and said he didn’t mind being filmed. Whew! One down!
A short while after Scott arrived, another cab pulled up and out came Richard – greeting Joe and I with a warm hug and kind eyes. Also exiting the cab were Jodee, Wayne and their son, Wyatt. A family filled with energy and wrapped in bug-sprayed bandannas, they loquaciously described the problems they encountered in getting to Accra. How they were stuck in Nigeria for a time, how Wyatt had gotten sick on the journey and how they didn’t know if they were going to get to the meeting place on time. Joe and I then explained our project and all 3 seemed excited by the prospect.
Richard interrupted our conversation to explain that we were still waiting for two more participants – a writer, George, and his son Eamon. George was delayed at a jewlers, so Richard said it would be easier to pick him up there.
We packed the van and then crowded in. Joe and I sat in the back and observed everyone else. A short drive later, we arrived at the meeting place to pick George and his son up. With two more in tow, we smushed into the now, very tightly packed van and began our journey to the Volta Region.
I had to steal myself thinking about how amazing it was that this was happening. Joe and I had our press passes, Richard had had a long talk with a representative at the Ministry of Information’s Office and cleared our trip and all but George and Eamon had agreed to be on film.
I was in Africa. I was in Ghana. This was happening.
Our cab driver took us to the Pink Hostel in a different neighborhood in Accra. Again, the lack of familiar addresses made it difficult to ask to go somewhere, but our driver got us their quickly and with ease. Joe and I were the first to arrive at the meeting spot. The small mini-van was waiting, but none of the participants, nor the head of the Globe Aware program in Ghana, Richard, were there. We were told Richard had gone to pick up some of the participants and was on his way back.
The quiet, serene street was in opposition to my mounting excitement. I wanted to be on our way. I wanted to see the Volta region – where we were staying, who we’d be working with, what we’d be doing. Not long after we’d arrived, a cab pulled up and out came a man with a backpack. This was Scott. Not on the original list of participants, Scott, in a constant state of wanderlust, had decided to come at the last minute. In just a few minutes of conversation, I discovered that he’d been to many, many places in the world for work and for recreation. I was immediately envious. What would life be like spending 6 months here, 6 months there? Nervously, I told Scott the project that I was embarking on. Quickly he agreed to be a part of it and said he didn’t mind being filmed. Whew! One down!
A short while after Scott arrived, another cab pulled up and out came Richard – greeting Joe and I with a warm hug and kind eyes. Also exiting the cab were Jodee, Wayne and their son, Wyatt. A family filled with energy and wrapped in bug-sprayed bandannas, they loquaciously described the problems they encountered in getting to Accra. How they were stuck in Nigeria for a time, how Wyatt had gotten sick on the journey and how they didn’t know if they were going to get to the meeting place on time. Joe and I then explained our project and all 3 seemed excited by the prospect.
Richard interrupted our conversation to explain that we were still waiting for two more participants – a writer, George, and his son Eamon. George was delayed at a jewlers, so Richard said it would be easier to pick him up there.
We packed the van and then crowded in. Joe and I sat in the back and observed everyone else. A short drive later, we arrived at the meeting place to pick George and his son up. With two more in tow, we smushed into the now, very tightly packed van and began our journey to the Volta Region.
I had to steal myself thinking about how amazing it was that this was happening. Joe and I had our press passes, Richard had had a long talk with a representative at the Ministry of Information’s Office and cleared our trip and all but George and Eamon had agreed to be on film.
I was in Africa. I was in Ghana. This was happening.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Globe Aware Begins
[note: once again my apologies for the lateness of this next installment... work has been crazy but it's been all good things!]
Finally! Globe Aware’s official start day arrives! I woke up with such anticipation for the days to come. What would we be doing? What would the group be like? Would they be open to the documentary? Globe Aware had said that they were going to mention it to the other volunteers, but I wasn’t counting on anything. That morning, Joe and I had a hearty breakfast in the hotel’s dining room and made our way back to our room to gather all of our things. The butterflies in my stomach were whirling like nobody’s business as the time ticked by. I continued packing, Joe continued organizing the equipment and my butterflies seemed to be reproducing. Wow! I guess I’m really nervous, I thought. Very quickly I realized that it was not butterflies at all. I ran passed Joe and made my way to the bathroom. (For those of you who are now rolling your eyes at my potty recollections, too bad – you wanted an honest account so here goes!) I’m sure I don’t have to go into more detail than simply noting that I got to know the bathroom quite well that morning. I believe it’s a universal enough feeling to be able to stop there, don’t you.
The time ticked by...
I finally opened the door and almost slammed into the camera – leering at me. Seems while I was busy taking care of my business, Joe was busy taking care of his. He’d waited in the room, red record light flashing, beckoning me to well... Flush.
I. Had. The. Poops.
Downing the recommended amount of Immodium, I yelled at Joe to turn the camera off and checked out of the hotel. Goodbye bathroom... Hello long journey to Ho.
I hope it’s not a bumpy ride.
Finally! Globe Aware’s official start day arrives! I woke up with such anticipation for the days to come. What would we be doing? What would the group be like? Would they be open to the documentary? Globe Aware had said that they were going to mention it to the other volunteers, but I wasn’t counting on anything. That morning, Joe and I had a hearty breakfast in the hotel’s dining room and made our way back to our room to gather all of our things. The butterflies in my stomach were whirling like nobody’s business as the time ticked by. I continued packing, Joe continued organizing the equipment and my butterflies seemed to be reproducing. Wow! I guess I’m really nervous, I thought. Very quickly I realized that it was not butterflies at all. I ran passed Joe and made my way to the bathroom. (For those of you who are now rolling your eyes at my potty recollections, too bad – you wanted an honest account so here goes!) I’m sure I don’t have to go into more detail than simply noting that I got to know the bathroom quite well that morning. I believe it’s a universal enough feeling to be able to stop there, don’t you.
The time ticked by...
I finally opened the door and almost slammed into the camera – leering at me. Seems while I was busy taking care of my business, Joe was busy taking care of his. He’d waited in the room, red record light flashing, beckoning me to well... Flush.
I. Had. The. Poops.
Downing the recommended amount of Immodium, I yelled at Joe to turn the camera off and checked out of the hotel. Goodbye bathroom... Hello long journey to Ho.
I hope it’s not a bumpy ride.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Best Laid Plans (Part 12)
DAY 2
Although I think both Joe and I felt that we could’ve slept the day away, we got up early in the morning so that we could be at the Ministry of Information’s Office first thing. We needed to get our press passes and were told not to begin filming without them.
One of the first things I found most interesting about Ghana is that there are no real addresses – PO Boxes yes – but addresses, no. You can’t say to a cab driver, take me to 145 Prospect Street b/w whatever and whatever. And being somewhat anal, before I left, I’d tried to map the distance between my hotel and the Ministry so that I could have some idea of how far it was and how much time we’d need to get there – but alas, one cannot find a PO Box on mapquest.
For some reason, government people (regardless of the country) make me nervous. I always immediately find myself itching to confess a crime that I don’t even know exists. I also find that I have to keep myself from blurting out inane information that, while wouldn’t necessarily make me a criminal, would definitely make me seem like a nutter... Such as ‘when I was 15 I told my sister that there were no more brownies when, in fact, I had the last one hidden away in a cabinet for my own selfish consumption!’ So along with my official paperwork, I also carried with me my odd compulsion to admit idiotic wrongdoings. Joe on the other hand, was simply itching to start filming whatever possible. At least one of us was focused.
Thankfully, we were seen right away and the official that we spoke with was very nice while also putting the fear of god in me. She explained a number of reasons why, if we didn’t follow the rules, we could be arrested. She wanted an explicit rundown of where we were going to be filming, which would have been fine but for the fact that I had no idea. She said that if we were discovered to be filming outside of where we said we were going to be, our equipment would be confiscated and we could be arrested. I suddenly found my confession compulsion and my visions of a Ghanian prison merging into one holy-hell nightmare of epic proportions. I looked over at Joe so that we could share each others fears silently but he looked so relaxed that I became concerned he was gonna fall asleep. Apparently, the sound of the Officer’s voice, while making me quiver with anxiety, was like a lullaby for Joe. When she turned her attention away from us to find a typist that could put together our press passes, Joe smirked at me and said that she was just trying to scare us. I reminded him that they don’t serve pancakes in prison but he was unshakeable.
After informing us that the typist was not in the building and would be coming in from a different location, she asked again where we wanted to film. The Volta Region was too general for her. I explained that we would be in Ho and then in surrounding villages that we didn’t yet know the names of, to which she reminded me of confiscation and imprisonment. I was worried that we were at an impasse. I gave her Richard’s number – he was the Globe Aware contact in Ghana but her attempts to reach him were unsuccessful. Would we get our press passes? If she refused us would we shoot anyway? I looked over at Joe and, as if he knew what I was wondering, he winked at me. Well, maybe he and I would share a cell.
Amazingly, after about 20 minutes, without specifics on where we were going to be filming, we were handed our press passes. I hate when Joe is right.
Along with our press passes, she sent us away with her assistant in tow. I had asked her whether she knew of any good markets in Ho and she said that the best markets are in Accra. She also said that her assistant would accompany us to them (for a fee) and we could film it.
Well, well, well... At least I knew we wouldn’t be arrested (at least not that day) and Joe knew that we’d get some great footage. We both got what we wanted.
Although I think both Joe and I felt that we could’ve slept the day away, we got up early in the morning so that we could be at the Ministry of Information’s Office first thing. We needed to get our press passes and were told not to begin filming without them.
One of the first things I found most interesting about Ghana is that there are no real addresses – PO Boxes yes – but addresses, no. You can’t say to a cab driver, take me to 145 Prospect Street b/w whatever and whatever. And being somewhat anal, before I left, I’d tried to map the distance between my hotel and the Ministry so that I could have some idea of how far it was and how much time we’d need to get there – but alas, one cannot find a PO Box on mapquest.
For some reason, government people (regardless of the country) make me nervous. I always immediately find myself itching to confess a crime that I don’t even know exists. I also find that I have to keep myself from blurting out inane information that, while wouldn’t necessarily make me a criminal, would definitely make me seem like a nutter... Such as ‘when I was 15 I told my sister that there were no more brownies when, in fact, I had the last one hidden away in a cabinet for my own selfish consumption!’ So along with my official paperwork, I also carried with me my odd compulsion to admit idiotic wrongdoings. Joe on the other hand, was simply itching to start filming whatever possible. At least one of us was focused.
Thankfully, we were seen right away and the official that we spoke with was very nice while also putting the fear of god in me. She explained a number of reasons why, if we didn’t follow the rules, we could be arrested. She wanted an explicit rundown of where we were going to be filming, which would have been fine but for the fact that I had no idea. She said that if we were discovered to be filming outside of where we said we were going to be, our equipment would be confiscated and we could be arrested. I suddenly found my confession compulsion and my visions of a Ghanian prison merging into one holy-hell nightmare of epic proportions. I looked over at Joe so that we could share each others fears silently but he looked so relaxed that I became concerned he was gonna fall asleep. Apparently, the sound of the Officer’s voice, while making me quiver with anxiety, was like a lullaby for Joe. When she turned her attention away from us to find a typist that could put together our press passes, Joe smirked at me and said that she was just trying to scare us. I reminded him that they don’t serve pancakes in prison but he was unshakeable.
After informing us that the typist was not in the building and would be coming in from a different location, she asked again where we wanted to film. The Volta Region was too general for her. I explained that we would be in Ho and then in surrounding villages that we didn’t yet know the names of, to which she reminded me of confiscation and imprisonment. I was worried that we were at an impasse. I gave her Richard’s number – he was the Globe Aware contact in Ghana but her attempts to reach him were unsuccessful. Would we get our press passes? If she refused us would we shoot anyway? I looked over at Joe and, as if he knew what I was wondering, he winked at me. Well, maybe he and I would share a cell.
Amazingly, after about 20 minutes, without specifics on where we were going to be filming, we were handed our press passes. I hate when Joe is right.
Along with our press passes, she sent us away with her assistant in tow. I had asked her whether she knew of any good markets in Ho and she said that the best markets are in Accra. She also said that her assistant would accompany us to them (for a fee) and we could film it.
Well, well, well... At least I knew we wouldn’t be arrested (at least not that day) and Joe knew that we’d get some great footage. We both got what we wanted.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
I'll admit... its been awhile...
Whew! Its been awhile since any of you have heard from me. I wish I could say that it’s because I’ve been busy with the editing process, or because I was thrown into some adventure relating to the documentary, but alas, that would not be the case (and I am a terrible liar). So here we are in October and its been many weeks since I’ve last written. I think the reason is three-fold.
1. I found it difficult to so quickly review my day’s events during my time in Ghana. The week was so jam-packed with experiences that, I don’t know, I think I felt like I was inserting a tone onto the experience rather than waiting for some perspective on it. Does that even make sense?
2. Before leaving for the trip, I was under the assumption that when I returned from this supposedly life-changing experience, I would be, well, changed somehow. However, in actually experiencing my homecoming, I found that while I did feel amazingly accomplished in having seen this trip through, I discovered that I was still basically the same person, with the same feelings. Heartbroken? Check. Somewhat lost? Check. Excited and cautious of what’s to come? Check and check. The trip didn’t replace anything for me, it merely added a new feeling – albeit a positive one, but it was addition, not substitution.
3. Lastly, the third thing that took me away from writing about my experiences is quite a major event. I’ve lost my director of photography and editor. Sadly, Joe is no longer a part of Best Laid Plans. He did great work in Ghana but I am now having to go about the rest of this experience on my own.
This year has given new meaning to the term, best laid plans for me - in multiple aspects of my life. So, Alicia and I have decided to simply go with it. Originally, I was to experience this volunteer vacation and go to Africa as a way to invite the things that I’d have had to put off had my husband not walked out, and had I had children with him. I was to be part of a two person team. But my best laid (original) plans for the documentary hadn’t worked out. Now it’s just me. So, with Alicia’s expert guidance I’ve decided to shift things again. The documentary will not end with my plane landing in the US. Life goes on and so does Best Laid Plans. Stay tuned as more information is to come...
And yeah, I’ll continue the journal entries of my time there... You’ve all asked for it and I promise that next time I write, it’ll be about day 2!
1. I found it difficult to so quickly review my day’s events during my time in Ghana. The week was so jam-packed with experiences that, I don’t know, I think I felt like I was inserting a tone onto the experience rather than waiting for some perspective on it. Does that even make sense?
2. Before leaving for the trip, I was under the assumption that when I returned from this supposedly life-changing experience, I would be, well, changed somehow. However, in actually experiencing my homecoming, I found that while I did feel amazingly accomplished in having seen this trip through, I discovered that I was still basically the same person, with the same feelings. Heartbroken? Check. Somewhat lost? Check. Excited and cautious of what’s to come? Check and check. The trip didn’t replace anything for me, it merely added a new feeling – albeit a positive one, but it was addition, not substitution.
3. Lastly, the third thing that took me away from writing about my experiences is quite a major event. I’ve lost my director of photography and editor. Sadly, Joe is no longer a part of Best Laid Plans. He did great work in Ghana but I am now having to go about the rest of this experience on my own.
This year has given new meaning to the term, best laid plans for me - in multiple aspects of my life. So, Alicia and I have decided to simply go with it. Originally, I was to experience this volunteer vacation and go to Africa as a way to invite the things that I’d have had to put off had my husband not walked out, and had I had children with him. I was to be part of a two person team. But my best laid (original) plans for the documentary hadn’t worked out. Now it’s just me. So, with Alicia’s expert guidance I’ve decided to shift things again. The documentary will not end with my plane landing in the US. Life goes on and so does Best Laid Plans. Stay tuned as more information is to come...
And yeah, I’ll continue the journal entries of my time there... You’ve all asked for it and I promise that next time I write, it’ll be about day 2!
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