a start....

Here's a start at least. Part of a day in Ghana. Apologies if it sounds like amateur porn.
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The wind was sharp and cool, and I was glad of the scarf that tied my hair back as we rushed along the gravel path. I tipped my head back to marvel at the brightness of the stars, drunk on the wind and my own fatigue from the past 24 hours, something that seems cliche only now as I write this, at the time it was breathtaking. I was seated behind 15 year old Ramon on his rickety but astonishingly fast moped and we were speeding through the woods at 70 kilometers an hour, the headlight from the bike the only light visible aside from the stars.

Ramon's left hand left the grip on the handlebar and snaked back to settle on my thigh. "I have a boyfriend." I announced. Silence. No movement. "We're getting married." Ramon wordlessly returned his hand to the handlebar.

I thought of the events of the previous day and the endlessly rotating cast of characters. 24 hours earlier I was on a bus heading from Bobo Diolasso in Burkina Faso to Hamale, just over the Ghanaian border. I had spent the previous 2 weeks almost entirely alone, in a fog of my own thoughts surrounded by swirling unfamiliar people and languages, so I was thrilled to see the two obviously American tourists boarding the bus in front of me. Somebody was trying to load a rusty stove onto the coach roof (yes, really) and it fell on the foot of one of the Americans. I made my move. "Get your Tetanus shot?" "Ha ha. You're American?!" They appeared as relieved as I to have company so we squeezed into a 3 seat row and set about speaking as much English as possible. They were fraternity brothers at Northwestern, on a 4 month graduation-gift trip around the world. They were smart, attractive, and friendly in an incredibly disconcerting way that seems to come too naturally to those born of wealth and status.

At the border we shuffled on and off the bus at various checkpoints on both sides, until the last stop, immigration. It turns out that one of the frat boys didn't have a visa for Ghana, and since, in Africa, All White People Are Relatives or at least traveling together, the immigration officials took all three of our passports and sat us down together. They told us the boss was home sleeping, so we would have to wait until he arrived. The boys tried unsuccessfully again to explain that I wasn't traveling with them. After 30 or 40 uncomfortable minutes, the boss came in, looking wild-eyed like someone had woken him to tell him about the discovery of a new species of humans. "Americans!!" he yelled to us. "I want to go to America!" After round after absurd round of pleasantries, he finally told us that we could get our passports back the next morning, but we'd all have to take the 5am bus to Wa, 4 hours away, so Mike, the visa-less fraternity brother could get a visa at the immigration office there. We would be accompanied by an armed border patrol officer to make sure we didn't try to escape. And we'd have to buy the officer's bus ticket and lunch. Deal.


(okay just posting this because it's taking too goddamn long! more soon...)

so long!

Hello there ladies and gentlemen. I am officially a shitty blogger. But I'm also headed out today to Accra, Ghana (by way of the Netherlands) for a couple of months so I thought I'd give a little shout out to ya'll.

I'll have access to the internet for most of my trip so I'll post here every once in awhile to let you all know I haven't been eaten by a wildebeest. I will make a sincere effort to make those updates less painful than most boring travel updates, but we shall see. Also, if I don't have your address, please send it to me! I'll send you things in the mail!

Thanks to everyone (especially my amazing visitors) for such an fantastic spring and I'll see you soon!

solo road trip 08

I'm such a bad blogger, which is odd considering my generally self-absorbed nature. Lots of excellent things going on, but today I am preparing for SOLO ROAD TRIP 2008. I'm pretty thrilled about 21 hours in the car with just little old me (though is it bad that I kind of wish Eloise was coming?).

It's going to be very excellent. I've loaded up the ipod, dug out my AAA card, and found the title to my car on the 30% chance it will break down on the way to Minnesota. I also bought postcard stamps so if anybody wants a postcard from whatever freakish or adorable town I land in to buy gas, let me know! I've been practicing my postcard haikus!

During the course of the 21 hours, in between swooning over Ira Glass and Ben Gibbard (shut up), I plan to do the following:

1. Calm the fuck down. About Ghana. About what happens when I get back. About how I wont feel like a real adult until I can learn to keep my f-ing room clean.

2. Get really excited again. About Ghana. About my trip to Minnesota. About what happens when I get back. I'm thrilled and stoked and kind of scared about things but it's all pretty exciting.

3. Not think about land reform in Kazakhstan.

4. Sing really loud and off-key to some god-awful Tom Petty song.

5. Hold conversations in my head with you.

My New Favorite Thing in the Whole World

superstoked

Things are good lately. I met with the team of folks heading to Ghana this summer and I'm pretty stoked about it. There are 5 of us total. 1 Ghanaian Physician's Assistant, 2 Nigerian Public Relations Manager, 1 South Korean woman straight out of undergrad, 1 American writer/researcher who works at the NYU school of the arts...and ME.

The 5 of us will have a month to interview people in the slums around Accra about their water needs and usage, then we'll spend the fall coming up with a proposal to the water authority on how to service those areas and a proposal on how to price and fund the service AND a report on how global warming will affect the service in Accra over the next 30 years. Whew! I'm starting to get a little nervous.

my favorite place in mid-town

This is Deno's Party House/Colon Hydrotherapy, at 30th and 8th. Apparently they have jello shots served by bikini clad waitresses downstairs and all natural enemas upstairs. What more could a girl want?

I'm reading A Tale of Two Cities for the first time, and as much as I hate the super-trite overly used "best of times, worst of times" line, it might sum up this week pretty well. (also that Dickens guy, turns out, can write!)

Bad was getting into a big sad fight with my best friend. Bad/embarrassing was throwing up after spending all of Saturday afternoon perfecting my bloody mary mix. Bad turned Fun/Embarrassing was locking myself and all of my guests outside while brunch was cooking away on the stove inside. Luckily the stoop was sunny, by some miracle the bloody mary mix was locked outside with us (though I declined to partake), and the ranchero sauce was happily simmering away when we finally broke back in an hour later.

Pure excitement is getting ready for my Ghana trip (though randomly losing my passport also falls into the BAD category, mostly). I'm planning to stay in the NYU dorms for a week, rent an apartment in Accra for a month, then spend the rest of my time travelling (hopefully). I'm thinking of trying to travel north to Burkina Faso and Mali (turns out Timbuktu is in Mali, who knew?) which means I need to inoculate the bejeesus out of myself with shots for yellow fever, meningitis, typhoid, hepatitis and on and on. Should be a blast. Let me know if you have a particular hankering for a postcard from anywhere.

Other great things include finding my favorite scarf and $1400 I forgot I had. Not sure which I'm more excited about.

I am hopeful today will land firmly on the "best of times" side. (which means, if you have any bad news for me, prob better to wait until tomorrow). Sad fight is over, going out for a long run in a bit, then fun drinking with some new friends later.

So that's my self-centered update. Comment away;)