Today, is my day of travel to Ghana. And, what an interesting day it has been…today I found an old friend, sort of…actually I found a new friend that felt like someone I had known forever! While we did not necessarily talk about anything profound, she told me things that I needed to hear, things about life that I think I knew, but at this low point, needed reminding of. For some reason, it seemed as though we were destined to meet today on that plane. As we wait for take-off, I am talking to my friend Jody about going to Africa. I relay to her all of Jody’s excited screams when she finds out that I am actually on the plane headed to New York. Jody is the friend that I would put at the top of the list to call at a point such as this, because I know how much she appreciates the fact that I am sitting on the plane with my bags under my feet, and we can revel in the experience together as it is happening. We do the same thing with food, and I call Jody every time I am at a fantastic vegan restaurant so that she can "share" my immaculate dining experiences! So, we are discussing this, and in between my giggles of excitement, I am trying to fight back the cracking of my voice as I tell her of some of the recent events. She tells me what she always tells me, that if things are meant to be they will happen, and that you cannot fight things, you have to let them happen the way that they are supposed to, and I will see this in time. She says that she wishes she could show me a glimpse of my future, so that I could rest assured that peace and wisdom were coming from all of this pain. If it is not the right time, then it’s not right, whatever it may be. I tell her that I think that we control our own destiny, and she says that we control our choices, but that we have to take into account the context around us. Although horrifically exhausted from teaching summer session, multiple projects at work, my strained personal life, and preparations for the trip, she somehow renews my excitement as we end our conversation. Tina, the person sitting next to me, turns to me and wants to know why I am going to Africa…and thus begins my finding a new friend today that also happens to be an old friend. We do not talk about anything particularly special or out of the ordinary, but it seemed like what I needed at that moment in time. It is amazing how the most ordinary conversation can also be the most profound. Despite the absolute sadness that permeates every fiber of my being at this time, I was reminded of the joy and the adventures of traveling, and what a gift this trip is. I began to revel in the thoughts of the interesting people that I would meet, and the interesting things that I would do. I mean after all, I am pretty sure that I am going to get to kiss a giraffe…
Then the oddest thing happens to me as I am boarding the plane. It turns out that one of my former students, Holly, who is the kindest, most adorable person ever is sitting next to me during our flight. Neither of us has made seat requests or coordinated with each other when we bought our tickets and we remarked that it was so strange that out of all of the people on this very large flight, how we ended up next to one another. As I open my backpack to take out a snack, Holly pulls my book out to see what it is Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, and excitedly proclaims that she herself has the same book, and has brought it along on the trip. I remark to her that a friend gave it to me as a gift because I was going through a lot, and that I had only just started it. She relays that she had also been given this book as gift from a close friend, and has only recently started. We vow to be finished by the end of the trip, and continue to talk about many other things for the next several hours. And so I got to thinking after our long conversation, as I drifted off to sleep (or the semi-sleep state that is the best you can get while crossing the ocean in a metal cylinder), I began to think about a topic that has been on my mind for some time now, and that has come up earlier in the day during my conversation with Jody. Is there any order or plan to the universe or is life completely random- Is life really like a box of chocolates? Or is this just a cute line in a movie? Are the events in life as random as pulling a truffle out of a box and trying to guess what’s there as you bite into it, or is it more like one of those chocolate boxes that has the map of the flavors right there on the box? Perhaps there is a plan or a map, and everything happens for a reason, but I tend to think that it is random and we convince ourselves otherwise because we are not comfortable accepting that we live in complete chaos. Even if there is some destiny or plan, how much of that could we possibly control anyway. But today I found myself pondering this topic again because I feel lately that the universe has been pushing me in a certain direction and I have been resisting it because I am not sure that I believe in that. But as my personal life becomes less fulilling, and quite frankly, in many ways more of a disaster, I find that more opportunities have opened up at work. I find myself very focused on a number of projects and making future plans even though I am tired of focusing solely on my career. So, was it just random that I sat by two friends on the flight over here and was able to talk about many things and laugh and ponder and share, or did some higher power know that I shouldn’t be alone with my thoughts for 14 hours? Perhaps the universe decided that I finally needed a night to actually rest….whether random or purposeful, I was provided with enough distractions that I did indeed get a break from the incessant questioning and play of events that constantly occupy my mind. I finally did get a little bit of rest.
After a very long flight (two hour delay while on board, and then 10 hours flying time), I arrived in Accra and went through customs. Once I leave, I realize that my passport stamp does not say Ghana anywhere on it! I am likely the only person who would care about such things, I know, but at least I have the large visa stamp. As I walk out of the baggage claim, the hot, sticky air envelops me. It reminds me of being at a Braves game in Atlanta on a very, hot muggy evening, but this is only the beginning of the day in Accra. As I inhale the sticky air with a hint of salt and musk, I realize that this is the beginning of a new day for me as well. A woman walks up to me, shows me a sticker (which I have no clue as to its meaning) and then asks for a "donation". I do not have any money as I have just stepped off the plane. I tell her this and she asks me for gum. I give her a pack of gum that I am carrying in my bag as I have it readily available. And, then the strangest thing happens; she grabs my hand and holds it for a few seconds as if to say thank you. As I begin to walk to the parking lot, she once again grabs my hand as a gesture of gratitude. I am still not sure why…
While walking to the vehicle to transport me to my hotel, several men came up to me wanting to help me with my bags. While I thought that I packed a lot, you should have seen all of the students’ oversized bags with "heavy" and "overload" stickers attached to them. I was just fine, thank you and definitely could handle my own bags! But, as I approached the vehicle, he grabbed my suitcase from my hand, and then put it in the trunk of the van. He then demanded that I give him a tip. Well, I had not exchanged currency and as I told the other lady, I had not change. He persisted, so I told him that I did not seek his help with the luggage, and that I did not have cash. As there were now five men surrounding me demanding tips (even though they didn’t do anything!), I simply turned to a friend and asked if she would give a tip to the man who threw my suitcase in the trunk. She replied that she had just given the men $30 for all of our suitcases, and told them to divide it up amongst themselves. The men shouted at me that I needed to tip, and that $50 was standard, but that they would accept $20. Knowing this was ridiculous, I once again apologized shrugged my shoulders, and headed to my seat. As the van pulled out of a make-shift parking lot, the one who took my suitcase came to the window, which was fully open, and said to me that he was disappointed that I did not tip him after he had helped me out. I once again replied to him that he should get his share from the pile of money that was given to the group of men (which was at least 20 if not more, by this time). He looked at me intently, and as the van pulled out, he said to me softly, "You will not have a long life….you do not tip." So, leave it to me to be in Ghana for five minutes and get a curse put on me. Good thing I am not that superstitious. I was not worried at all. Now mostly this was because I have little belief in his special powers or ability to know the length of my life (think Angelina Jolie in Life or Something Like It!), but I figured that with the way my life has been going, some higher power who did actually have the ability to curse me already had. And, I am traditionally a very good tipper! So, really, I was not worried about this curse. And, even if I was, once I got to the hotel, there was a tile in the lobby with a strange emblem on it. Upon asking its significance, I was told that it was a symbol of good luck, so I stood on this tile just to be sure that the curse of short life could be counterbalanced by good luck. Now, technically I am not sure that this would undo the curse, but hopefully I will have good luck for whatever time is left of my short life, which would be a nice change from the status quo!
Several hours later after everyone has checked into their rooms and I have a much needed nap, I head to the dining room for dinner. I was a little nervous as I have to be very diligent about avoiding dairy unless I want to suffer relentlessly for the rest of the trip. But, I am quickly relieved when I am brought a traditional Ghanaian dish called Chicken Jollof. Now, everyone knows that I would typically prefer to eat vegetables or seafood, but in this situation beggars can’t be choosers. But the rice was fanatastic, so spicy, so fragrant, leaving just a hint of heat behind and giving your mouth almost the same sensation as a long, passionate kiss. I decide that I could live off of this rice for a month for sure. And, then my colleague, Cheri decides that she loves it so much that she asks for the recipe so that we can prepare it back home. Our host says that he would be delighted to arrange an appointment with the chef for us so that he can personally show us how to make this delightful dish. We take him up on his offer very thankfully, and marvel at the hospitality and generosity that has just been shown to us. So for everyone local in Virginia, Jollof at my house when I return!
I am finally ready to retire to my room for the night, which by the way has lots of air-conditioning and hot water (if I can get the Jollof delivered to my room I may never have to leave it…)! Before I do I stop to say good night to the man behind the desk and remind him to leave my pass to the fitness center out for me in the morning (I am determined to look halfway decent by the time I get to Zanzibar), and he has of course already taken care of it. Jolki, one of the trip leaders for the students, joins me in a conversation with our new friend, Osei. He tells me that that he will leave my pass for me but that he will not be there in the morning as he has to go to school. It turns out that he works all night in the hotel, and then attends school during the day. He only sleeps for a few hours before returning to his job. When I remarked how difficult this must be, he says that he is simply lucky to be have a job and be able to go to school. In Ghana, as in South Africa, I notice many people, particularly young men, just lounging around at the side of the road. They are there because of the high unemployment rate; some choose to hang out or sleep, and others join the women in selling almost any piece of merchandise imaginable to passerbyers. Osei tells me the story of how he is named after an Asante King, and then bids me a good night. I walk up the stairs thinking about how incredibly lucky we are in America, even if we do not always recognize this fact. And, then I think, how generic- who doesn’t visit another country and at some point have this thought? But it is so true so I allow myself to think about it wholeheartedly and embrace the gifts that I have been given, which has received considerably less attention than the list of things that I do not have over the past few months.
As I snuggle into bed, I am still not particularly tired because of my earlier nap and my misguided decision to drink some tea after a late dinner, so I decide to pick up my book. As I flip through the next several stories, I begin to think about how this book has mirrored my life at the times that I am reading it. When I started the book a couple of months ago, the author was recounting the ending of two very significant, yet different relationships. She continues on to describe her need to fulfill herself spiritually, her battle with depression and loneliness, and her decision to rediscover herself abroad. I have had two relationships end in the past couple of years, one in many ways similar to her marriage, and the other, similar to her all-consuming affair with David after her separation. I have fought my own battles with the "universe" and been told that I need to find some sort of spirituality, in any form. Recently, I have been so numb that I didn’t believe in much of anything or in anyone, nor did these sentiments particularly trouble me. But as she described, sometimes it takes a while to admit that you are actually lost in the woods. I have come to realize that and can now begin the healing process. I have traveled almost 10,000 miles away from home, and while I realize that everyone says that it is impossible to run from your problems, I feel genuinely good for the first time in months. I feel a new sense of clarity, and take this as a sign of the inevitable healing that is coming….
Then the oddest thing happens to me as I am boarding the plane. It turns out that one of my former students, Holly, who is the kindest, most adorable person ever is sitting next to me during our flight. Neither of us has made seat requests or coordinated with each other when we bought our tickets and we remarked that it was so strange that out of all of the people on this very large flight, how we ended up next to one another. As I open my backpack to take out a snack, Holly pulls my book out to see what it is Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, and excitedly proclaims that she herself has the same book, and has brought it along on the trip. I remark to her that a friend gave it to me as a gift because I was going through a lot, and that I had only just started it. She relays that she had also been given this book as gift from a close friend, and has only recently started. We vow to be finished by the end of the trip, and continue to talk about many other things for the next several hours. And so I got to thinking after our long conversation, as I drifted off to sleep (or the semi-sleep state that is the best you can get while crossing the ocean in a metal cylinder), I began to think about a topic that has been on my mind for some time now, and that has come up earlier in the day during my conversation with Jody. Is there any order or plan to the universe or is life completely random- Is life really like a box of chocolates? Or is this just a cute line in a movie? Are the events in life as random as pulling a truffle out of a box and trying to guess what’s there as you bite into it, or is it more like one of those chocolate boxes that has the map of the flavors right there on the box? Perhaps there is a plan or a map, and everything happens for a reason, but I tend to think that it is random and we convince ourselves otherwise because we are not comfortable accepting that we live in complete chaos. Even if there is some destiny or plan, how much of that could we possibly control anyway. But today I found myself pondering this topic again because I feel lately that the universe has been pushing me in a certain direction and I have been resisting it because I am not sure that I believe in that. But as my personal life becomes less fulilling, and quite frankly, in many ways more of a disaster, I find that more opportunities have opened up at work. I find myself very focused on a number of projects and making future plans even though I am tired of focusing solely on my career. So, was it just random that I sat by two friends on the flight over here and was able to talk about many things and laugh and ponder and share, or did some higher power know that I shouldn’t be alone with my thoughts for 14 hours? Perhaps the universe decided that I finally needed a night to actually rest….whether random or purposeful, I was provided with enough distractions that I did indeed get a break from the incessant questioning and play of events that constantly occupy my mind. I finally did get a little bit of rest.
After a very long flight (two hour delay while on board, and then 10 hours flying time), I arrived in Accra and went through customs. Once I leave, I realize that my passport stamp does not say Ghana anywhere on it! I am likely the only person who would care about such things, I know, but at least I have the large visa stamp. As I walk out of the baggage claim, the hot, sticky air envelops me. It reminds me of being at a Braves game in Atlanta on a very, hot muggy evening, but this is only the beginning of the day in Accra. As I inhale the sticky air with a hint of salt and musk, I realize that this is the beginning of a new day for me as well. A woman walks up to me, shows me a sticker (which I have no clue as to its meaning) and then asks for a "donation". I do not have any money as I have just stepped off the plane. I tell her this and she asks me for gum. I give her a pack of gum that I am carrying in my bag as I have it readily available. And, then the strangest thing happens; she grabs my hand and holds it for a few seconds as if to say thank you. As I begin to walk to the parking lot, she once again grabs my hand as a gesture of gratitude. I am still not sure why…
While walking to the vehicle to transport me to my hotel, several men came up to me wanting to help me with my bags. While I thought that I packed a lot, you should have seen all of the students’ oversized bags with "heavy" and "overload" stickers attached to them. I was just fine, thank you and definitely could handle my own bags! But, as I approached the vehicle, he grabbed my suitcase from my hand, and then put it in the trunk of the van. He then demanded that I give him a tip. Well, I had not exchanged currency and as I told the other lady, I had not change. He persisted, so I told him that I did not seek his help with the luggage, and that I did not have cash. As there were now five men surrounding me demanding tips (even though they didn’t do anything!), I simply turned to a friend and asked if she would give a tip to the man who threw my suitcase in the trunk. She replied that she had just given the men $30 for all of our suitcases, and told them to divide it up amongst themselves. The men shouted at me that I needed to tip, and that $50 was standard, but that they would accept $20. Knowing this was ridiculous, I once again apologized shrugged my shoulders, and headed to my seat. As the van pulled out of a make-shift parking lot, the one who took my suitcase came to the window, which was fully open, and said to me that he was disappointed that I did not tip him after he had helped me out. I once again replied to him that he should get his share from the pile of money that was given to the group of men (which was at least 20 if not more, by this time). He looked at me intently, and as the van pulled out, he said to me softly, "You will not have a long life….you do not tip." So, leave it to me to be in Ghana for five minutes and get a curse put on me. Good thing I am not that superstitious. I was not worried at all. Now mostly this was because I have little belief in his special powers or ability to know the length of my life (think Angelina Jolie in Life or Something Like It!), but I figured that with the way my life has been going, some higher power who did actually have the ability to curse me already had. And, I am traditionally a very good tipper! So, really, I was not worried about this curse. And, even if I was, once I got to the hotel, there was a tile in the lobby with a strange emblem on it. Upon asking its significance, I was told that it was a symbol of good luck, so I stood on this tile just to be sure that the curse of short life could be counterbalanced by good luck. Now, technically I am not sure that this would undo the curse, but hopefully I will have good luck for whatever time is left of my short life, which would be a nice change from the status quo!
Several hours later after everyone has checked into their rooms and I have a much needed nap, I head to the dining room for dinner. I was a little nervous as I have to be very diligent about avoiding dairy unless I want to suffer relentlessly for the rest of the trip. But, I am quickly relieved when I am brought a traditional Ghanaian dish called Chicken Jollof. Now, everyone knows that I would typically prefer to eat vegetables or seafood, but in this situation beggars can’t be choosers. But the rice was fanatastic, so spicy, so fragrant, leaving just a hint of heat behind and giving your mouth almost the same sensation as a long, passionate kiss. I decide that I could live off of this rice for a month for sure. And, then my colleague, Cheri decides that she loves it so much that she asks for the recipe so that we can prepare it back home. Our host says that he would be delighted to arrange an appointment with the chef for us so that he can personally show us how to make this delightful dish. We take him up on his offer very thankfully, and marvel at the hospitality and generosity that has just been shown to us. So for everyone local in Virginia, Jollof at my house when I return!
I am finally ready to retire to my room for the night, which by the way has lots of air-conditioning and hot water (if I can get the Jollof delivered to my room I may never have to leave it…)! Before I do I stop to say good night to the man behind the desk and remind him to leave my pass to the fitness center out for me in the morning (I am determined to look halfway decent by the time I get to Zanzibar), and he has of course already taken care of it. Jolki, one of the trip leaders for the students, joins me in a conversation with our new friend, Osei. He tells me that that he will leave my pass for me but that he will not be there in the morning as he has to go to school. It turns out that he works all night in the hotel, and then attends school during the day. He only sleeps for a few hours before returning to his job. When I remarked how difficult this must be, he says that he is simply lucky to be have a job and be able to go to school. In Ghana, as in South Africa, I notice many people, particularly young men, just lounging around at the side of the road. They are there because of the high unemployment rate; some choose to hang out or sleep, and others join the women in selling almost any piece of merchandise imaginable to passerbyers. Osei tells me the story of how he is named after an Asante King, and then bids me a good night. I walk up the stairs thinking about how incredibly lucky we are in America, even if we do not always recognize this fact. And, then I think, how generic- who doesn’t visit another country and at some point have this thought? But it is so true so I allow myself to think about it wholeheartedly and embrace the gifts that I have been given, which has received considerably less attention than the list of things that I do not have over the past few months.
As I snuggle into bed, I am still not particularly tired because of my earlier nap and my misguided decision to drink some tea after a late dinner, so I decide to pick up my book. As I flip through the next several stories, I begin to think about how this book has mirrored my life at the times that I am reading it. When I started the book a couple of months ago, the author was recounting the ending of two very significant, yet different relationships. She continues on to describe her need to fulfill herself spiritually, her battle with depression and loneliness, and her decision to rediscover herself abroad. I have had two relationships end in the past couple of years, one in many ways similar to her marriage, and the other, similar to her all-consuming affair with David after her separation. I have fought my own battles with the "universe" and been told that I need to find some sort of spirituality, in any form. Recently, I have been so numb that I didn’t believe in much of anything or in anyone, nor did these sentiments particularly trouble me. But as she described, sometimes it takes a while to admit that you are actually lost in the woods. I have come to realize that and can now begin the healing process. I have traveled almost 10,000 miles away from home, and while I realize that everyone says that it is impossible to run from your problems, I feel genuinely good for the first time in months. I feel a new sense of clarity, and take this as a sign of the inevitable healing that is coming….
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