Junie's Online Thoughts
Saturday, December 14, 2002
Today we are supposed to move. We finally saw the "new" place last night, after we had another black out. I tell you, I am not sure what we did to deserve such a wondrous home, but damn, Im glad we did it. This place is a palace. Huge. Front sitting room. Dining room with a real table and six chairs. Living room. Two bedrooms. An office. A kitchen. A shower and a toilet. Much nicer than where we are now. Well worth the extra $50 a month. Of course there are delays...so we came to the cafe instead of brooding on the front porch and impatiently waiting to move our shit.
Last night we were supposed to visit this artist guy by the aviation center, but the blackout delayed things and instead went to Next Door, this beach side restaurant where you can watch the waves crashing twenty feet from the table. The mosquitoes were terrible, but the night was fun...full of drinks and chatting and sitting. My kind of evening.
Friday, December 13, 2002
We went out for Indian with a girl named Erin from Racine, WI, last night. We had already tried the posh place down the street, but now we wanted to try Tandoor, the other Indian place. Following signs off the main road in Osu, we found ourselves deep in these streets with no real sign of the restaurant. By now the sun had gone down and we wondered where in the hell we were going. Gaining hope from a guy who told us we were going in the right direction, we finally found the place. The food was good, albeit pricey, and more similar to the Indian back in Atlanta. Midway through our meal, the power went out. Luckily they had a generator and we could finish without the aid of the lighter from the guy one table over. (And thankfully Erin had brought enough money with her to help us pay the bill until we could repay her later that night.)
The black out lasted most of the night...meaning we had to try to sleep without the aid of a fan, which sucked. It went out again for a bit this morning, but seems to have been fixed.
When getting dressed, I realized that I had developed deep tan lines around my neck from where my t-shirts end, so I decided to start wearing strappy tanks. I knew I would probably be self conscious about my hairy pits, so this morning I trimmed the tops of them. HOwever, as we walked, I felt really really ultra aware of my arms and how much I moved them, lest I reveal that I wasnt clean shaven like most other folks. When we got home from a few errands and lunch, I was grumpy and thought, well, dammit, if I cant even go about my daily tasks without freaking about my hair, then I'll cut the damn stuff off.
Above the sink, I tried to leave a little bit in the middle, until I saw how stupid it looked. I grabbed the razor and shaved my left pit. And then I cried. And cried. And cried. I regretted that. And immediately felt stupid and naked and raw.
See, aesthetically, I dont like hair. I really dont. I used to nearly vomit when having to touch other peoples hair...but have moved to a place where I can sort of deal. I still pluck the hairs that grow on my face and eyebrows. I tried to let my leg hair grow out, but didnt like the way it looked or felt after more than a few months. I keep all my hair pretty tidy. But for some reason, when I tried the armpit hair experiment last summer when Jeremy was in Ghana, I really, really liked it. I like the way that pit hair looks and feels, and hadnt shaved in more than a year and a half. And now, half of my hair was gone. Even that great cute little cupie like curl right in the middle---it was all down the drain.
See, I could cop out and say that the staring made me do it. Ghanians stare at me when I wear shorts, when I wear pants, when I put my hair up in knobs, when my hair is braided, when I wear my Japanese t-shirts. Even when I look just like everyone else, I get stared at. Why add one more thing to the repetoire of Reasons to Stare at Me? But that's not true. They would stare at me anyway...thats not why I shaved. In truth, what I was really afraid of, was the other white girls. Its not a new phenomena--I felt the same way when I was in Atlanta. I realize that most folks dont like the way that armpit hair looks--thats its this freaky weird lesbian thing or some "French" thing or something generally bizarre. When I wore tank tops at home, I felt the same nervousness and anxiety. Here was no different. When I took a shared taxi with two other gals on Wednesday, I saw how one of the girls looked at my knees and legs with a week's growth on them...so much so that I felt myself comment "oh I need to shave my legs" before tugging down my shorts. And the day before I quit the Alzheimer's ASsociation, I helped at our bi-annual conference. During the afternoon, two co-workers were discussing TLC's 3-d video thing and how disgusted she was at how T-Boz wouldn't shave her armpits until she absolutely had to...all while I wanted to blurt out "well i havent shaved mine in over a year" even though I knew they would freak out at me. Instead I said nothing, but shook my head. Im fully aware of the consensus on hair, and most days I dont really care. But today, lately, for some reason, I did. And I thought I would rather just shave and get it over with than deal with the white girl stares. That was most of the reason for my tears--because I felt sooo stupid for caring. Why should I care what these strangers think of me? Ninety five percent of the foreigners I see on the street I never see again. Who knows why they're here...but its not like those are the people I socialize with. Yet those are the people whose judgement Im afraid of...that is sooooo lame. The last thing I should have to worry about is my armpits...and now mine are itchy and rashy and look bald. Yeeck.
Well, I certainly couldnt walk around with one bald pit and one half hairy pit...so I cried some more and asked Jeremy to help me trim the right one before I just shaved it off. When will I learn? When will I just NOT CARE what everyone else thinks about me when Im totally okay with parts of myself? I know I have to shave them again for my sister's wedding, and Im willing to do that for her, but likewise, as soon as that wedding is over, Im going back to my hairy pitted ways. I mean, really...what is the big deal anyway? Its just hair...why do we have such an aversion to hair????? I dont choose it to grow. In most circumstances, I wish my hair wouldnt grow back, but thats life. It grows there. Why cant we deal with it? And why do I feel compelled to explain myself because I like the way it looks when my pits grow out? Why do I even care if someone who reads this disagrees with me? If you dont like it, you can shave. As for me...Im returning to my roots.
Thursday, December 12, 2002
Last night, I was introduced to the world of soccer. A bunch of gals from here get together on Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings to play games and practice. I thought I had never played and volunteered to give it a shot. Within a minute of play, I realized that I had played soccer once before in grade school gym class. I sucked, desperately prayed the ball would never come to me and eventually had a ball smack me in the face. I dont know why I didnt develop an aversion to the game, but instead blocked the whole thing out.
I didnt get much instruction--mostly "try to get the ball and win." Uh, thanks. What position do you want to be? Jesus, dont ask me...I will just try to stay out of the way. All in all it was fun...it felt great to run around and sweat like a fool, it was hard not to be afraid of the ball and I really did suck (once kicking the ball to the opposing team so they could make a goal and once reflexively raising my hands to whack the ball away as it neared my face to give the opposing team a penalty kick.) We lost, but I wasnt shunned...in fact some said I did pretty well for never playing before. I may go back on Wednesdays, when it seems more low key with practice games and drills. Not quite ready for a "real" game on Sundays. (Real meaning they play the lowest ranked Ghanian team or local girls teams...and always lose.) The field itself is owned by the American government and there are a few employees of the embassy who can show badges and let us in to play. They have a big swimming pool and everyone goes swimming after games on Sundays...that may be something to consider. I sure could use a good swim.
Today I accompanied Susan to the class at the middle school so we could make dolls. Water here comes in a few forms--the most expensive is the bottled water. The cheapest is boiled tap water. The middle option is plastic bags filled with filtered water. You bite off a corner of the plastic and drink away. (Bottled costs about 3000 to 6000 cedis per liter, bagged is about 15 to 20 seventeen ounce bags for 5000 cedis...definately more water for your buck. And they freeze to make great reusable ice cubes.) Anyway, most people just chuck their empty water bags in the street and sewers when they are done, and Susan wanted the class to think about waste. We used the empty water bags as the base of the dolls--filling them with newspaper to make them round, using string and material to make clothes and faces. They did a great job...about 25 to 30 kids ranging in ages from 12 to 16. Very inventive...my own doll sucked ass compared to theirs, but that was pretty cool. Susan is leaving next week, and Im going with her once more to the class. I think they want me to take over teaching the art club...I may be willing to do it once a month, but I really dont want to be tied down every week, straining my brain to find proper activities for these kids to do when I didnt really bring any art supplies for them to use. (Susan brought a whole suitcase of markers, material, scissors, pencils, etc. because she's a teacher as a job. I didnt bring anything like that, except a handfull of my own art materials.) I will think about it and call Vicki, the teacher, after the holidays are over. It all makes me leary....no training at teaching and no real interest in actually being a teacher. But once a month I could do....we'll see.
Tonight is wide open...we have to decide if we are travelling over the holidays or are staying in Accra...and if so, what we will be doing. Its hard to imagine recreating a typical holiday extravaganza when its hot as hell and it doesnt feel like yuletime. No tree, no cookies, no brandy slush, no family, no snow, its all very weird. I think we would fair better if we just did something completely different...like went somewhere new instead of sitting at home. Tomorrow is another attempt at finding the post office with the personal mail bags....this time I feel like we're close to succeeding.... :)
Wednesday, December 11, 2002
See, the best thing about Towers online cafe is that they have a) air conditioning b) cable tv and c) pretty comfortable seats with decent internet speed. Im sitting in the first smaller room, because Im too afraid to go into the main room I usually use because when we were there last night, the computer froze and wouldnt sign off and Jeremy was like, here's our money, we're leaving NOW, and I dont want the girl to be mad at me. This--coming from the one who wanted to be a bounty hunter? (head shake) What is my deal???
Anyway, we are watching this groovy music videos show from Europe and EVERYONE looks just like N'Sync, Britney, Madonna or P Diddy...oooooo ooooo here's the actual Britney instead of the French version. Oh dear.
Finally dragged my butt out of bed (late) to try some yoga. Jeremy's mom had given me a book a few Xmases ago and I tried it. The problem is that its advanced even for a beginner....after a few stretches I was supposed to be able to do a headstand. Sorry---I did a flip instead and miraculously didnt hurt my back! Yeah! I think I will wait until I find a proper mat or blanket and work up to that. Im meeting some gals for a soccer game tonight. Never played soccer before in my life, but I'm willing to try in the name of overdue exercise.
Jeremy is at the archives today...Im hiding out from the heat in the cafe. Watching Shakira. Can life be any better???? :)
Still no post office box, but we will keep trying for those who want to mail things. Be patient...we're on Ghana time now......
Tuesday, December 10, 2002
Breakfast was very exciting today. We bought Fruit and Fibre..and I had soy milk, and bread, and freshly squeezed orange juice and bananas. I felt like I should be on one of those commercials for a totally balanced breakfast. All I was missing was the eggs......
Today we shopped and I got ideas for gifts. Then we ate at Frankies (too hot for the cheese pizza we ate.) and are emailing until I meet a gal at 4 pm to meet a seamstress who can make me some pants. Then a gal in our complex is returning to the U.S. and she is having a party at a bar near the airport. She gave me a skirt, a shirt and a hanger yesterday...what a nice lady. Not too much else is going on.....just trying to control my raging hormones and stop sleeping for 12 hours every day. I feel like a lazy beast. :)
Monday, December 09, 2002
As we walked home last night, we found out the soccer game was between Ghana and Morocco. When we turned the corner near our house, five or six men erupted from a house wearing nothing but shorts, twirling their shirts in the air and screaming "GGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAALLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I guess Ghana made a goal...(they won the game too.)
Today was supposed to be a day of errands. Sadly, it turned into an unsuccessful exploration instead. After getting up late, we walked to the internet cafe to ask my aunt to call the storage place. We had asked a friend to mail our check to pay us through next year, but she's in Rhode Island and never told us for sure that she did it. I had visions of all of our stuff being tossed or sold and started to panic. Sadly, neither she nor my aunt have gotten back to me so we are left in limbo...if we dont hear by tomorrow morning, I may try to call the place directly just to beg and plead for our stuff to be okay. Anyway, we then took a tro tro to Circle in search of the post office with personal mail bags that Tim told us about. After six sets of directions, an hour of walking and much sweating, we instead found ourself in an industrial section of town, surrounded by car dealership and factories...and no where near any post office. We walked back to the round about to catch another tro tro back to Circle. By then, the heat and dehydration and hunger had made us zen about the search. The post office is where we find it. We are the post office. The post office is everywhere and no where. There is no post office, there is only suffering. We boarded the tro tro....our own little sauna....wedged in the back of the full, hot metal van....for an extended drive that took forever.....until we finally had to get out. My eyes watered at the breeze and our clothes were soaked through. Never did find that post office....didnt find the "electrical section" of town either. Instead we snuck into a "chinese" restaurant...which kept screwing up our order and giving me fish instead of vegetables. We finally left...went home feeling fragile and weary....cuddled and showered and napped....and now we are here hoping for a response on the storage issue. sigh.......No resolution for now.
Sunday, December 08, 2002
I am in a surprisingly good mood today. Dont really know why....but its nice. Ive smiled at people as we have walked today, I dont mind the things that usually annoy me...who knows. After sleeping late this morning, we walked to Southern Fried Chicken near Nungwa circle and had falafel sandwiches (although they add twenty tons of raw onions and these super hot pickles). Then we discovered a chinese restaurant (with real chinese people!) that sells fresh tofu. HOoray! We are making a coconut peanut stir fry tonight if we can find some veggies to go with the tofu and onions we already have. Yippee!!!!! Who would have thought I would get excited about cooking? Who am I turning into?
Yeah, its interesting to see how coming here is subtley changing me....my walking pace, my reaction time, my libido, my multi-tasking...is all going opposite that it normally does.....I guess when I have nothing to do all day I can just relax and see what I feel like doing at that moment. Weird phenomena....cant say as i have ever been like this for so long......
This morning as we left the house for lunch, a woman drove her car into the sewer. See, the roads are narrow to begin with and along the sides of the road are Ghana's version of ditches--these really deep sewer trenches. Some are covered with concrete slabs, but others are gaping open holes ready for things and people to fall into. We arent quite sure what her problem was..if she was just a bad driver or what, but she drove straight into the ditch and plopped one wheel into the pit. We walked over and with the help of two other folks on the street, we pushed them back into the road. We continued, amazed that she hadnt broken her axle, when she nearly ran into us in an attempt to honk and thank us for helping her. Jeez...no problem, lady, just dont kill us now.....
I guess we will nap and read today...no real plans. Originally Jeremy mentioned this internet cafe called Cyberia that plays movies on Sunday nights. But tonights selection is Half Past Dead with Steven Segall and Jeremy wont see it with me. NOrmally, I wouldnt want to see a movie with lameo SEgall in it, but I guess I am jonesing for TV so bad that any American crap seems good. :) Maybe next week.
Jeremy starts work tomorrow after he goes with me to the post office and bank. Then I get to run around by myself during the day or find someone in the complex to hang out with me. I think next weekend we are already have two plans...to go to the Irish pub called Ryan's on SAturday night when the place fills up with all the white folks and foreigners and go to the beach so I can walk around and see the ocean. Oh, and Im going to a tailor with another gal on Tuesday so I can make some pants and find out how many yards of fabric it takes to make me a dress.
Ive been pondering gifts for my family, but have no idea what to get them....STacy, mom and dad...maybe you can send me your measurements and I can make you a shirt or dress.....? Let me know....
