International Adventurer

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

My Plea

Last night I watched the Oscar-winning "12 Years A Slave" and for the second time in my life I was completely overcome with feelings of grief, injustice, and mainly guilt. Now some people might read that and think- it's not your fault, it's history, and there's nothing you can do to change THAT. And as much as it pains me, I do know that. I cannot go back in time. I cannot save the billions of African men, women, and children who were ripped of their human spirit. I cannot save the children of Auschwitz. And I cannot dry the trail of tears left by my Native American ancestors. In these things- I am utterly powerless.

However, I feel like I know myself well enough to recognize a pattern. The first time I experienced that overwhelming grief was after watching a theatre production of "To Kill A Mockingbird" during my sophomore year. A few of my oldest friends from college will remember this show as well, some of them might remember my reaction. As that play ended, I found myself uncontrollably emotional. Up to this point, I had never felt anything like this. Anyone who knows me well will know that I cry easily. I am, what some might call, extremely sensitive. I like to think of it as endlessly empathetic. However, this extreme sense of overwhelming injustice was different. I couldn't get a hold of myself. I literally could not stop crying, and I had to step away for more than 15 minutes.

I think the link between these two experiences is important to me- both times were performances that depicted our society in it's most broken, unjust times- during slavery and its immediate aftermath in this country. I feel a strong connection to this time, one that I've felt all my life. Even as a young girl in elementary school, I used to dream vividly about Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad. I actually remember a recurring dream from that time, where I was a slave in the south and tried to escape using the North Star. I have always been drawn to the disenfranchised in my life- even though I have always had just about everything I could need. Sometimes I wonder if I might have had another life as a slave, but truly I can't say why I feel such a deep connection to this time and these people.

All I can understand is that I am connected- whether willingly or not to a deep well of sadness and grief. Perhaps it is just my incredibly empathic nature, but regardless I find myself plagued by the question: How can I carry on with my privileged life when I know there are people suffering from terrible injustice RIGHT NOW?

People are dying all across the earth. Some of them die for their beliefs, but many, many more are caught up in problems that are much bigger than they are. The most heart-breaking detail in "12 Years A Slave" was Solomon's inability to help anyone else. I was struck by the devastating fact that, although one man was released, the rest remained. THE REST REMAINED. All those people who he had shared his last twelve years with- they were all left to the devastating effects of slavery. It reminded me that for every one that we save there are dozens more who suffer. I think about that kind of injustice, where people have been drained of their human spirit, sapped of their hope. I think about the effects of something as drastic as that, about the consequences.

I have always been taught and believed that the United States is the best place in the world to live. I grew up with great patriotism surrounding me, and even as I learned about the sordid past of this country I believed that America was still a place of hope, a place of dreams. While it may have been that to many people, and may be that to many people today, I think it is important to remember that America is not perfect by ANY means. In some ways, Americans are the most sheltered, ignorant people on the planet. Although it may not happen as blatantly as it did in the 1800's, slavery still exists in America. Injustice runs rampant in these United States. It may present itself differently, but it pervades every single part of our society. I have experienced many of those injustices firsthand as a young female, who grew up in one of the most bigoted states in the union. However, my individual suffering is NOTHING compared to the stories I have heard, the news I have read, and the aftermath I have witnessed.

Let me tell you a short story about a woman I met in the psych ward of Fairmont General. This woman was near my own age and by many accounts one of the cheeriest patients in the ward. From the first day I arrived she endlessly tried to befriend me- offering food, advice, whatever she had to share. I did NOT appreciate this attention. In fact, I remember many times when I yelled at her to leave me alone. I was angry and hurting and had no interest in this girl. A few days later when I was dragged into a group therapy session, I found out that this cheerful girl, who was within a year of my age, had lived the majority of her life as a SLAVE. Re-read that statement. Go ahead. I couldn't believe it either. Here I was, so self-involved that I had not even noticed suffering when it was starring me in the face. She was originally from the west coast, and she later told me that she was 11 when she ran away from home- angry at her parents for something- and ended up prey to a man who she referred to now as "her original owner."

I was so floored by this woman's story that I had an extremely hard time believing her. I even supposed that she might be a compulsive liar, just trying to create something crazy and unbelievable to tell the rest of the patients. However, the more I spoke with her the more I could not ignore the symptoms of this horrible past. She struggled with extreme depression, dabbled in all types of drugs, and she had absolutely no self-worth. You might think, this sounds like a completely different person. That's because, in essence, it is. This woman was struggling with things I couldn't even wrap my head around. She hid behind a very child-like exterior, ever-pleasing and devoted. She sometimes seemed to act like she WANTED someone else to be in charge of her life. After all the horrible things she had experienced, her only survival instinct left was to bend to someone else's will.

I have had other experiences in my life where I have come into contact with injustice, but none punctured me as fully as this did. This woman was a U.S. citizen- born and raised. And she ended up in my town in that hospital because of a man who "owned" her bringing her to West Virginia. This is the state that I grew up in, and I had just found out that real, honest to God, SLAVE OWNERS, lived there.

No longer can we say that "it won't happen to me" or "that doesn't happen where I live" because believe me people IT HAPPENS. It may be right under your nose. You might see them at the supermarket. For all you know, she's the woman at the dollar store who is paying in nickels. She might be buying balloons and a Twix bar in the speedy check-out at Wal-Mart.

Things like this make me despair at the human race- how someone can be so blind to another's suffering, how someone can trample on another person's basic rights for no reason other than their own selfish desires/beliefs. More than this I think about the blind eye that we all turn on these types of problems. No matter who you are, it really just is impossible to bear the weight of all this suffering, and so we try to look elsewhere. I am guilty to the highest degree. Although I find myself dwelling on this ongoing suffering- from hunger, from war, from slavery, from disease, from injustice. Faces of the children I met in Africa, of the students in the Jenin refugee camp in Palestine, of the woman I met in Fairmont-broken by a life of slavery: these faces inch their way into my dreams at night. Their suffering can make my own life seem bittersweet, leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

Especially now, as I struggle with my own reality of unemployment, piles of bills, student loans, and just scraping by, I feel stuck in a world of despair. Now, I am not looking for any pity from my friends. I am a hard-working, hot-blooded, stubborn young woman with absolutely NO intentions of giving up or giving in. However, even I cannot battle the injustices' of this world all alone. No one person can. There are just too many. There are too many just HERE- in the United States.

But that's the point. There are too many people suffering. Too many people are falling into the bottom echelon of our society, too many people are struggling to have their basic needs met. Too many people are being persecuted for their beliefs, for their sexuality, for their individuality. Too many people are being enslaved, literally and metaphorically. Too many women, men, and children are being treated unfairly- denied treatment for their medical issues, denied the right to vote, denied the right to love, denied the ability to make mistakes and come back from them. And this fact makes me angry.

This is SUPPOSED to be the land of the FREE. This is supposed to be the place where your dreams CAN be valid. And yet, America has become a cesspool of political agendas, industry interests, and CONSTANTLY putting the needs of the people dead last. It can be argued that we are moving forward, our society IS progressing, people are starting to wake up to the injustice all around them. However, I really don't think that a lot of people are GETTING it. For every one step forward- somebody, somewhere reacts in fear and takes 3 giant steps back. All you have to do is look at news. WHY AMERICA?!

Why do we watch as our country, as our rights are put on the sidelines? Why do ignore the OBVIOUS suffering? I'm not expecting anyone to go pick up a homeless person and help them put their life back together. But stop ignoring suffering! Your first world problems are just the half of it. Right beneath your nose injustice is being done. Your server at McDonald's is being forced to hid his sexuality, while working a dead-end minimum wage job just to pay the bills- and guess what, even then the struggle isn't over. He might be estranged from his family, dealing with drug addiction, and drowning in debt. Or he could be suffering from gluten intolerance, with no one to diagnose him, and no money to afford a wheat-free diet. You have no idea what got that person to where they are. Every single person on this planet is fighting their own private battles. It's not your place to judge. Would you want someone to judge you when you're at your worst?

We spend too much time in this life fighting with each other. People are always looking at their differences, focusing only on "what's wrong" with other people. We start this vicious cycle of victim-blaming, telling people it's their own fault. Again- WHY? Just think about how devastated a mother in middle-America would be if someone told her that her miscarriage was "her own fault." How about if someone told you it was "your own fault" that you got laid-off from your job? STOP BLAMING THE VICTIMS. I just cannot understand why anyone would choose to lay blame on someone who is already suffering- REGARDLESS OF HOW THEY GOT THERE. These are people who are struggling- no matter their history, no matter their origin or even their destructive behaviors- they are SUFFERING PEOPLE. So, stop forgetting that. Have a little compassion. Have a little HUMANITY. And just pause to think about all the pieces you're missing from their whole picture.

I try to live my life as compassionately as I can. I strive to relieve as much suffering around me as I can, whether it is through courteous service, a genuine smile or thank you, whatever I have to give- which these days, feels like it isn't a whole lot. However, even with no money to speak of, I feel this driving NEED to live with compassion- because you know what, this life does NOT show compassion. Whether you believe in a higher power or not- no one is going to intervene to fix all your problems for you. There is no cosmic power reaching into your life to make your problems magically go away. So, if God isn't gonna pluck all the thorns from your life to relieve your suffering then WHO IS? What happens to people who have so much suffering piled on top of them that they cannot crawl out on their own? How many times in your life have you just thought "I cannot do this alone"? So what the hell are we all here for if not to HELP each other!?

I find it a terrible tragedy that in a rape prevention class, I was taught to scream "FIRE!" instead of "HELP" because actual STUDIES have proved that people will respond to a fire- in hope of watching- rather than responding to a plea of help- because it requires them to get "involved". No offense to those who don't curse, but WHAT THE FUCK, AMERICA?! Have we become so complacent with the faults in our society that we choose to ignore them entirely? STOP PASSING THE BUCK AROUND! I swear, this is the most disgusting and frustrating thing in American culture. TAKE ACTION! TAKE ON SOME RESPONSIBILITY! The humanity of our race is at stake here, people. Please, I'm begging you. Stop this "bystander" mentality. You DO NOT have to be a bystander. And you are certainly not "entitled" to become a bystander just because you have already suffered. Help people. At least TRY. What kind of life can you have if you only wallow and focus on your own problems?

As a human being I believe that my purpose- and man's purpose on this planet in general- is to relieve the suffering of others. Until we can learn to set aside our differences and see each other's HUMANITY, we will never find peace or happiness. I know everyone who reads this will have their own maybe more pressing issues in their life. The mortgage needs to be paid, your daughter was in a car accident, whatever it is- you are fighting a personal battle everyday. But can you take a break from yours to help someone else in their fight? I don't mean just donating money, and in most cases these days I feel like that really isn't even a possibility for most of us. I mean, HELPING.

All I have to work with are my personal talents, and I don't have much-mainly my art. But, I am a writer, so I'm writing THIS- as a wake-up call, as an inspiration. I challenge every person who reads this to forward it on if you feel, re-post it, but more importantly TAKE ACTION. Take at least one action in your life to help someone else, not expecting anything reciprocal, each day or even each week- it can even be a stranger in your life. Tip your waitress an extra few dollars and leave her a thank you. I cannot tell you how happy it makes servers to get even a little thank you note. CALL a facebook friend- talk to them like a real person instead of just re-posting other people's words on their internet page. Volunteer your time. Buy an extra burger for the homeless man you pass everyday on your way to work. Donate your "out of season" clothes. Just LISTEN to people. Most of us who are struggling really just want ONE sympathetic ear. We all just want to feel like we aren't alone in our fight. For God's sake, just be loving! Treat others how you WISH everyone treated you- with respect, with understanding, with love. Take care of each other. I'm begging you. Lift each other up.

As one human spirit to another. End Suffering.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

New Year's Resolutions

I decided to post my resolutions for the year in hopes that it would be an extra boost to help me follow through with them. Lots of goals, but I am up to the challenge. :D

2013 New Year’s Resolutions

Start a graduate school program in the fall
Be able to do a full split in karate
Run & Finish a Marathon
Learn to Swim well and hold my breath without holding my nose underwater
Finish a Triathlon
Maintain my long-distance friendships
Begin training my body for intense hiking—preparing for life goal of hiking Everest
Plan a backpacking/camping trip—hit as many National Parks as possible
Start trying my hand at directing/creating social justice theatre
Pay off all accumulated student loan interest

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

2012 Reflection

Bringing in the new year always makes me marvel at how far I have come. But none so much as this year. 2012 was probably one of the most difficult years of my life. As that year dawned, I was coming home from Africa feeling like practically a stranger in my own town. In 2012, I began the year with fierce hope for the future, only to have my dreams dashed on the rocks.

Thinking about it now 2012 was the end of the world as I knew it. In March, Ross, my fiance, left me. Hopeless and alone and completely lost. When things first ended I remember feeling like my whole world had been turned on it's head. Like every day was more a waking nightmare than my true life. I felt soulless and empty and hurt. I had had such hopes for us. I'd had a plan for my life, our life together. Suddenly that was all snatched away like it had been a cruel joke. I didn't understand, and I didn't really want to understand at that point. I sunk into one of the worst depressions of my life. No matter what those around me did, I just couldn't be happy anymore. Those of you who know me well know that I have always been a happy person, easy to laughter and quick to smile. Suddenly it was as if every smile was painful, no matter how much I wanted to mean it. In April I was admitted to the hospital and sent to the psych ward after trying to commit suicide.

There have been other bad times in my life. I've been through my fair share of struggles. But that was the first time that I had ever felt that there was no hope. There was no light left in the world. I felt totally alone and unloved and unhappy. I remember talking to doctors at the hospital and everyone kept asking me "How are you feeling?" and "Why do you feel like that?" I got so angry thinking about it. I felt like they had snatched away my only escape. I remember lying in my bed and crying for almost an entire day. I didn't move. I didn't speak to anyone. I just wept. Every time I thought that my tears were finally spent they would begin again just as strong. It felt like an unending flood of sorrow.

My doctor tried to help me see the bigger picture. I was supposed to be graduating from college in a few months. I had already traveled the world more than most people, and from all accounts I had a bright future ahead of me. I remember sitting in his office with my legs tucked into my chest and as he said those things and I thought, it's all empty though. Why would I want to travel the world if there's no one to share it with? Why would I want to finish school if no one is there to celebrate it, to be proud of me? Why would I want to do anything ever again if no one even cares about me? If no one loves me?

When Ross told me that he didn't love me, that he wasn't sure he'd ever loved me, something inside of me died. I feel like I could have dealt with anything but that. Suddenly it was like the last two years of my life were all a lie. It had felt so wonderful and blissful and happy at the time, but here he was telling me it was all in my head, it wasn't real what I had felt. That was something that I just couldn't grasp.

That week in the hospital turned out to be exactly what I needed though. I met people from all different walks of life, all dealing with their own issues, and after a while I realized that I so blessed in my life. I may not be happy, but at least I knew what happiness felt like. I may not like the way my life looked at the moment, but at least I had the power to change it. At least I had a fully-functioning mind, a family who cared for me (even if they didn't always show it), friends who worried about me, who didn't even know I was in the hospital.

I remember the day that I finally started to let myself heal while I was there. We were in group therapy and I was sitting at the piano in the common room we were in. I had been tinkling through "You are my sunshine" on the piano. Ross used to sing that to me. And I sat there playing it softly and crying. When we had to go around and talk about how we were doing, I barely even answered. The therapist asked me again to talk about how I was feeling, and suddenly I just burst out- "I feel empty. I feel dead inside, and I really wish I were dead. At least then it wouldn't hurt so much. I've got nothing left. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of remembering. I'm just tired. There's just no light left in the world." The room got quiet, and even the therapist seemed sad and at a loss for how to reply. Then from the back corner of the room an old man, old enough to be my father, maybe even grandfather, spoke up. I had no idea who he was and I had never even heard him speak before, but he looked right at me and he said, "I know what it feels like to hurt. But there is always a little light. It may seem far off and impossible but it's there. It just needs time to grow."

I still don't know that man's name, but what he said felt like the only truth that had ever mattered.

Over time I began to heal. I poured myself into my schoolwork. I pushed myself to finish college. I found strength and courage in places I didn't know existed. I found support from people who didn't even realize what a difference they were making. I graduated. I worked. I found out how to keep going forward- the vital importance of just putting one foot in front of the other. That summer I struggled with depression. I used every distraction I could think of. Movies. TV. Alcohol. The list goes on and on. But I found that at night when I was alone, I still cried. There were not enough distractions in the world to make me feel truly loved.

Then I moved to Hawaii, and I had a fresh start. I began a journey with "The Artist's Way" (a book that was given to me by some very wise theatre faculty at my school), and my life changed. As I got to know my sister and her family in Hawaii, I started to find joy again. The kind that only families can bring. "The Artist's Way" taught me how to take care of myself, how to be kind to myself instead of tearing myself apart. Suddenly, I was not crying anymore. I was taking walks and pressing flowers, collecting rocks and listening to choral music. I rediscovered interests I had, dreams that had been put on the shelf years and years ago. I didn't just find a reason for living, I found a new way to live, a much fuller, more exciting, more healthy way to live. For the first time, I was able to look at my relationship with Ross and see the problems coming from both sides- instead of just blaming myself. I began to understand Ross's reasons for leaving, and I found that I wasn't hurt by them anymore. I found peace.

Since then, I have taken huge steps toward a brighter future. I have a new outlook on life. I have peace of mind concerning my past, and a sense of exploration and thrill thinking about my future. I feel like I am closer to my best friends than I have ever been. I have been so blessed, it hardly seems possible that in April I was in the hospital. My life has been completely turned around. I feel a sense of purpose. I feel like I know myself better. I love more freely, live more fully, and laugh more often. It may sound silly, but I learned to love myself again, and that has made all the difference.

Bringing in the new year, I find that I am filled with a sense of excitement. I am sure the road ahead will have struggles and pain, but I feel like I am infinitely better equipped to deal with them. For the first time in my life I understand the saying "The world is your oyster."

So here's to a brand new year, new beginnings and new adventures. I can already tell that it's gonna be a great year and I can't wait to see what's in store. :D

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The Re-Invention of Eliza Huff (A new outlook)

A note on college (and I suppose life in general):

Time flies. Looking into the past 5 years of my life I feel a renewed sense of wonder at how I have gotten to where I am today. 5 years ago I was a senior in high school, where the majority of my time and energy was spent in the high school theatre and music departments. My main concern in life was my boyfriend, Alex, and after that I spent the remainder of my energy on friends from school. To this day, of all of those people, I am only close with one of my friends of high school. Of all the people I knew and took classes with, who I performed with in choir and theatre, of all the people that I grew up going to elementary and middle school with, I can honestly say that I have not kept track of more than a dozen, most likely not even that many. I was looking at pictures from Honors Society, Theatre, Choir, Graduation, and I realized that I don’t know what has become of any of those people really. They could all be married, or have children, or be gay activists for all I know. They could be anything. They are not the people that I knew in high school. And as I realized this, I thought, “well, I’m not the person I was in high school.” As this realization dawned on me, I also started to take stock of my last four years in college- what made me change so much? Am I better for it? Is there anything that I regret?

The truth is college required more of me than I knew was inside of me. My experiences there, the challenges that I faced, the mistakes that I made, taught me valuable lessons. College taught me how to study- not just for classes, but how to study behaviors and people. I learned to observe personalities, learned how to deal with different kinds of people. College taught me about trust, about how to trust your partner, how to trust yourself. College taught me the importance of family. Before I left home I had no idea how special my family was. They are crazy, and they drive me crazy oftentimes, but there is no other family like them, and no one else can ever understand who I am without first understanding where I come from- my family. College taught me independence, true responsibility. Suddenly, no one was there to tell me yes or no, to tell me it was time to quit, to remind me of this or that. I went to college, and I had to learn how to take care of myself in totality. This was probably one of the hardest lessons for me to learn. I wanted independence in a conceptual form; however, I was also afraid that independence meant being alone. I had to overcome that fear the hard way; by being turned out on my nose and having to pick up the pieces of a shattered dream. College taught me about living.

Today, I am 22 living in Hawaii. I have traveled across 3 continents, been to 7 different countries, living in Africa for 4.5 months, and I have had the opportunity to skydive, visit many National Parks, learn to ski, and have my writing published- all through my college education. If you had told my 17 year old self that I would, in the next 5 years, have done all of the things listed above I probably would have laughed in your face. At 17 I was planning on studying music education at Shepherd University, marrying my high school sweetheart, and having children before I was 25. Now, less than 3 years from that age, I have a bachelor’s degree from Fairmont State University in theatre arts; I am single and planning to start my graduate studies soon. I have no intention whatsoever of having children anytime soon, and no desire to be tied down by a relationship. When I used to imagine my life some 40 years from now, I used to see something very similar to my own parents’ existence. I thought I would be a grandmother, spending all of her time and energy spoiling her grandkids and taking up such hobbies as knitting and cross-stitchery to fill the time. My life now seems infinitely fuller and more interesting that I could have imagined. Imagining myself 40 years down the road there is a sense of exhilaration thinking of all I could accomplish in that time and all the skills I will have acquired, plus all of the things that I could try out still. I want to learn all sorts of languages, and travel all over the globe doing interesting work and learning about all sorts of cultures. I want to hike Everest, swim with sharks and dolphins, ride on elephants, chill out with some kangaroos, maybe own a pet monkey. Now I want to explore all the edges of this world and soak in all the adventure and experience I can manage.

I realize now that this has always been the case. These things are not new dreams or desires. These are all those, once impossible, dreams that I have dreamed my whole life. It is the culmination of years of watching and envying others who get out and do amazing things. It is the result of a lifetime of suppressing my inner adventurer, my truest self. These are my dreams, crazy, silly, maybe childish, possibly dangerous or expensive or difficult, but they are the shimmering things that I have held out of my own grasp all my life. Now, as I enter a new chapter of my life, a new era as it were, I am finally allowing myself the extreme pleasure of really going for my wildest dreams. Every time that I am daunted, and I think that I can’t possibly or, there’s just not time for it all, or I’ll have to make some big sacrifices for all this, that’s when I stop myself and say- “I have the rest of my life to accomplish any and every dream I can dream up. That’s 60 good years. And if I don’t do it, if I let them go, then those 60 years will pass me up, and I will find myself sitting back and wondering what in the world I spent all that time doing if not realizing my dreams.” I was to seize the day, every single day, carpe dium, and I want to “suck the marrow out of life.” I want so much more than a conventional life. I want to look at my life as I lay dying- no matter when that day comes- and be able to say “now THAT was living.”

Monday, November 21, 2011

Update

Hey Everyone,

Sorry for not updating for like, over a month. Anyways, a lot has been going on. I had my directing class performance, had my full-length play reading, and finished my finals for dance, drumming, choir, and songs. So, all I have left is a written final for "History and Development" on the 9th of December. Up until then, I am just hanging out pretty much. Trying to plan some trips, find people to travel with. Might be going to Togo and Benin pretty soon. Thinking about doing a few day trips on my own this week and next. Thanksgiving is coming up as well, so we have a special Thanksgiving/Farewell dinner with ISEP on Thursday. That should be very fun. Umm... I am terrible at tracking everything back so I will just tell you I have made even more friends here. The past few weeks have been absolutely amazing.

I have a new favorite memory in Ghana. I made a bunch of spaghetti for some friends and myself, and ended up feeding about 5 grown men plus myself and my friend Marge. It was so much fun, all eating the Ghanaian style, straight from the pot and all digging in at the same time. I really felt like I had a family in that moment. We said grace, we laughed together over dinner, fought over the last bites. It was wonderful. I can't even begin to express the kind of warm love and endearment I feel for those guys. Maybe it's dumb but they are like family to me now. We hang out a lot, went to the beach together, eat together, laugh together, go out dancing together. It's just been a blast. I cannot thank God enough for the blessing that they have been in my life. I only wish I had more time with them. It feels unfair that I've just met them all a few short weeks ago, and now I only have a few weeks left to spend with them. It's thoroughly depressing, so I try not to think about it too much. Leaving will be much harder than I thought. If you would have asked me a month ago if I thought I would cry at the airport, I would have said, you're kidding right? Of course, I won't cry. I get to go home! But now, I'm not so sure. As much as I miss home and everything, everyone there, I will be really sad to say goodbye to the wonderful people I've met here, all of the people who have made this experience worth while and memorable and great. These Ghanaians seem to have a way of creeping into your heart and sticking there before you even know it.

Anyhow, still trying to upload pictures. Spent a weekend on an island called Marinata in the Volta Region a week or so ago. It was amazing. Spent the night in a beach hut. Played soccer/football (depends on which country you are from, lol). Swam in the Volta River, nice and warm and perfect. I want to go back so bad. We'll see if I can fit it in though. And in the evening there was a drumming group on the beach there, and I played on the drums a bit with one of the guys, and sang some of my traditional songs with them, AND they invited me to dance with them, so I got to practice what I learned in my traditional dance class. Overall it was just about the most amazing experience I've had here. I also just got back from a beach trip. I went to Kokrobite with my friend TG. It was a lot of fun, and relaxing, just sitting around being beach bums. And I bought some cool souvenirs so it was overall a successful trip. We'll see what the next few weeks bring. Gonna try and travel to the Volta Region, the Northern Region, Togo/Benin, and Koforidua Bead Market before I leave. And if I can manage it do some touring around Accra and some day trips in the surrounding areas. Might even make it up to Kumasi again before I leave, but we'll see.

Try and get the rest of my pictures posted here and on facebook soon. I NEED HI-SPEED INTERNET!! Uugh! LOVE YOU ALL!