"You can't lead the people if you don't love the people. You can't save the people if you don't serve the people."
— Cornel West
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Peace Corps
I know I kind of left my Ghana adventure unfinished due to lack of internet access for our final weeks. For anyone who was left in suspense, I arrived back home safely after my second month of volunteering. No need to worry that I was eaten by a crocodile in Paga.
The reason I decided to start blogging again is to update readers (aka J and Cori this is for you) because of my latest decision to join the Peace Corps. More accurately, I should say that it is to write about my acceptance and invitation to the Peace Corps since I decided to join the Peace Corps back in September when I first began the application progress.
Here I am though, 5 months later, and preparing to head off to my assignment in Guyana. Yes Guyana, not Ghana, or Guinea, or French Guiana. Guyana is a country in northern South America (in between Suriname and Venezuela). I head out February 13th, and I return April 15th, 2013.
I will continue to write my random tangents before leaving in less than a month, but for now I will leave you with tidbits of my Aspiration statement that I sent into my host country staff this afternoon.
ASPIRATION STATEMENT
Elizabeth Smith
Guyana
February 13th, 2011
College provided me with a foundation of the education I need to be a teacher, and I believe the Peace Corps will reinforce and instill the qualities necessary to be an exceptional teacher. Resilience, adaptability, determination, and self-motivation are essential for Peace Corps volunteers and teachers alike. As a recent college graduate, I am ready for the unrivaled education the Peace Corps has to offer.
I thrive on teaching because it is my passion. At the same time, I am enthralled with learning and adapting to the cultures of foreign countries. The demands for both are strenuous. The rewards are life-altering. Life abroad exposes invaluable lessons that are not as apparent in every-day America. For instance, I was able to witness the example of how manageable it is to live simply on my home-stay in Mukono, Uganda. Sometimes I lose perspective on the importance on living with less in America, and I know the Peace Corps will rejuvenate my awareness of just how significant it is.
Through the time I have spent in foreign countries, I have learned that laughter is the best approach to adapting to a new culture. If I did not spend each day laughing at all the mistakes and blunders I make while adjusting to a new culture, then I would be like a tea kettle boiling over with tears. Clearly, laughing is a preferential and healthy tactic to avoid taking myself too seriously while trying to maneuver my way in new surroundings without the familiarities of everyday routines. (You can’t help but laugh when there are twenty plus people packed into a tro-tro for 6 hours on unpaved roads.)
As best conveyed by Dr. Seuss in Green Eggs and Ham, I will never know unless I try. I am willing to be uncomfortable because otherwise I would never grow. Difficult situations have developed me into the individual I am today; the young woman who is committing two years of her life to the Peace Corps. Besides, trying new foods is not going to kill me…at least I hope not.
Life is unpredictable, especially in terms of traveling. One of the most defining experiences of my life was traveling to Uganda, and I did not even intend to study there in the first place. Uganda was a blessing to my life which taught me to value the unexpected plans in life even more than the planned ones. Similarly, I believe Peace Corps will play a defining role in my life. I can assume the stereotypical changes that will occur for me over the course of two years in a foreign country, such as a broader world-view and higher maturity level. More importantly though, I know the Peace Corps will continue to mold me into the humble teacher I aspire to be. Not to mention that I will come back with some unique stories to share and wow future students. In fact, my future students could be the future Peace Corps Volunteers—now that is an exciting thought.
The reason I decided to start blogging again is to update readers (aka J and Cori this is for you) because of my latest decision to join the Peace Corps. More accurately, I should say that it is to write about my acceptance and invitation to the Peace Corps since I decided to join the Peace Corps back in September when I first began the application progress.
Here I am though, 5 months later, and preparing to head off to my assignment in Guyana. Yes Guyana, not Ghana, or Guinea, or French Guiana. Guyana is a country in northern South America (in between Suriname and Venezuela). I head out February 13th, and I return April 15th, 2013.
I will continue to write my random tangents before leaving in less than a month, but for now I will leave you with tidbits of my Aspiration statement that I sent into my host country staff this afternoon.
ASPIRATION STATEMENT
Elizabeth Smith
Guyana
February 13th, 2011
College provided me with a foundation of the education I need to be a teacher, and I believe the Peace Corps will reinforce and instill the qualities necessary to be an exceptional teacher. Resilience, adaptability, determination, and self-motivation are essential for Peace Corps volunteers and teachers alike. As a recent college graduate, I am ready for the unrivaled education the Peace Corps has to offer.
I thrive on teaching because it is my passion. At the same time, I am enthralled with learning and adapting to the cultures of foreign countries. The demands for both are strenuous. The rewards are life-altering. Life abroad exposes invaluable lessons that are not as apparent in every-day America. For instance, I was able to witness the example of how manageable it is to live simply on my home-stay in Mukono, Uganda. Sometimes I lose perspective on the importance on living with less in America, and I know the Peace Corps will rejuvenate my awareness of just how significant it is.
Through the time I have spent in foreign countries, I have learned that laughter is the best approach to adapting to a new culture. If I did not spend each day laughing at all the mistakes and blunders I make while adjusting to a new culture, then I would be like a tea kettle boiling over with tears. Clearly, laughing is a preferential and healthy tactic to avoid taking myself too seriously while trying to maneuver my way in new surroundings without the familiarities of everyday routines. (You can’t help but laugh when there are twenty plus people packed into a tro-tro for 6 hours on unpaved roads.)
As best conveyed by Dr. Seuss in Green Eggs and Ham, I will never know unless I try. I am willing to be uncomfortable because otherwise I would never grow. Difficult situations have developed me into the individual I am today; the young woman who is committing two years of her life to the Peace Corps. Besides, trying new foods is not going to kill me…at least I hope not.
Life is unpredictable, especially in terms of traveling. One of the most defining experiences of my life was traveling to Uganda, and I did not even intend to study there in the first place. Uganda was a blessing to my life which taught me to value the unexpected plans in life even more than the planned ones. Similarly, I believe Peace Corps will play a defining role in my life. I can assume the stereotypical changes that will occur for me over the course of two years in a foreign country, such as a broader world-view and higher maturity level. More importantly though, I know the Peace Corps will continue to mold me into the humble teacher I aspire to be. Not to mention that I will come back with some unique stories to share and wow future students. In fact, my future students could be the future Peace Corps Volunteers—now that is an exciting thought.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Madonna had it right: "Time goes by....so slowly"
7 weeks. 49 days. 1176 hours. 70,560 minutes. 4233600 seconds. Can you tell I have time to contemplate?
For some reason, turning that into a song would not going over as well as the cast of Rent pulled off with their Seasons of Love.
Sorry I get sidetracked. The first order of business is writing about future plans.
Next destination: Mole National Park
Form of transportation: Mysterious OSA bus (that we have failed to find the location of in Ho)
Intended departure: Early Monday morning (September 27th)
Intended return: Unknown
The second order or business is to write about future plans for when I return home. Craig’s list has been my recruiter for jobs when I return to the states. I put no restrictions of the occupation: bagel baker, hotel attendant, or substitute teacher. You name it, and I am applying to work there. Too bad I do not have bagel baking experience.
Back to the present, and the days developed a simple routine. As of late, I find joy in alliteration. Thus, I can sum up my days with 3 R’s: running, reading, and rationing with children. Running is self-explanatory (this has to work since limping, snail walk, and dragging myself to the stadium do not start with R). Reading New York
Sunday, September 19, 2010
What are the qualifications to be a pastor again?
So, I had the opportunity to go to dinner with the fellow volunteers and Pastor Eric (the man who is hosting Kat and I). We headed to the White House. Not to be confused with America's White House, this white house has a monkey chained up in the back with live entertainment of bats swooping toward you head. We figured it would be a nice outing before two of the volunteers headed back to Germany.
Throughout the course of the evening, I had the opportunity to learn more about Pastor Eric. He had mentioned in his sermons that he was in a terrible car accident that resulted in him being in a coma for a month. Thus, I tried to spark some conversation by asking for more details about the accident. Pastor then informed me that he had been in not one, but three tragic car accidents.
In fact, he admitted that during one car accident he had been driving a vehicle holding some 15 people. The tire on top of the car fell off, and pastor could not avoid it due to his high speed. After running over the spare tire, the car ended up rolling off the road and into a pole. When I asked if anyone was injured, I was aghast with his casual answer of "Oh yes, a small child died." WHAT! I barely contained my horror, and I couldn't help but ask what happened after. He recounted that he fled the scene and remained in hiding until his uncle paid off the police.
While he was telling the remaining stories, we learned that he has been in a coma a total of 4 times. The first coma he was in, he awoke to people nailing his arm into the coffin because they had taken him for dead. (Yes, we asked if the doctors checked his pulse, but he did not seem to understand our concern that the hospital assumed he was dead without verifying his heart had stopped.)
In the end, we discovered that the qualifications for being a pastor are not limited to convicts, murderers, and sexists. The sexist part was revealed when Pastor insisted that women do not have the traits necessary to be president, such as toughness and foresight (his words...not mine).
On a side note, today another new volunteer arrived. I can't quite describe him...maybe another time.
Throughout the course of the evening, I had the opportunity to learn more about Pastor Eric. He had mentioned in his sermons that he was in a terrible car accident that resulted in him being in a coma for a month. Thus, I tried to spark some conversation by asking for more details about the accident. Pastor then informed me that he had been in not one, but three tragic car accidents.
In fact, he admitted that during one car accident he had been driving a vehicle holding some 15 people. The tire on top of the car fell off, and pastor could not avoid it due to his high speed. After running over the spare tire, the car ended up rolling off the road and into a pole. When I asked if anyone was injured, I was aghast with his casual answer of "Oh yes, a small child died." WHAT! I barely contained my horror, and I couldn't help but ask what happened after. He recounted that he fled the scene and remained in hiding until his uncle paid off the police.
While he was telling the remaining stories, we learned that he has been in a coma a total of 4 times. The first coma he was in, he awoke to people nailing his arm into the coffin because they had taken him for dead. (Yes, we asked if the doctors checked his pulse, but he did not seem to understand our concern that the hospital assumed he was dead without verifying his heart had stopped.)
In the end, we discovered that the qualifications for being a pastor are not limited to convicts, murderers, and sexists. The sexist part was revealed when Pastor insisted that women do not have the traits necessary to be president, such as toughness and foresight (his words...not mine).
On a side note, today another new volunteer arrived. I can't quite describe him...maybe another time.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
The last time I climbed a mountain was in the Adirondack's, and, quite frankly, I am pretty sure that I did not even make it to the top. Therefore, what possessed Kat and I to climb the highest mountain in Ghana? Answer: our ignorance.
We had little idea what was in store for us when we headed off on Friday morning. For instance, we didn't know how to get there or where we would stay once we got there. By sheer luck, and some kind Ghanians, we were able to stumble upon our desired conquest: Mount Afajato.
After waiting for a guide--a ten year old wearing a pair of flip flops--we ventured toward the trail. With only a few crackers in my stomach, I was still confident the 45 minute hike up the mountain would not pose much of a problem. Flash forward to me ten minutes later, and I am hunched over gasping in the most humid air that I have ever attempted to breath.
Stopping was not an option, even though my legs were screaming with each step. How did I convince myself this would be a good idea? It wasn't until I saw the marker indicating that we had just climbed mountain in Ghana that I felt a rush of relief.
The rush of relief was quickly countered by the herd of people that were already on the top of the mountain before us. When I reached the top I expected the peace and serenity of nature to engulf me. Instead, I discovered myself bombarded by curious Ghanian men asking to have a million pictures with us.
Kat politely posed for the seemingly endless photo shot, which may or may not have resulted in her being proposed to or impregnated (you choose). I attempted to escape to the other side of the peak, and tried to breathlessly answer the slew of common questions: where are you from, how long have you been here, how long will you be here, are you married, and will you take me back to America with you. It was not until the group left the peak that I was able to take in the spectacular spectacle that lay around me.
My jello legs carried me back down the mountain, and I made it back to Ho safe and sound once again.
We had little idea what was in store for us when we headed off on Friday morning. For instance, we didn't know how to get there or where we would stay once we got there. By sheer luck, and some kind Ghanians, we were able to stumble upon our desired conquest: Mount Afajato.
After waiting for a guide--a ten year old wearing a pair of flip flops--we ventured toward the trail. With only a few crackers in my stomach, I was still confident the 45 minute hike up the mountain would not pose much of a problem. Flash forward to me ten minutes later, and I am hunched over gasping in the most humid air that I have ever attempted to breath.
Stopping was not an option, even though my legs were screaming with each step. How did I convince myself this would be a good idea? It wasn't until I saw the marker indicating that we had just climbed mountain in Ghana that I felt a rush of relief.
The rush of relief was quickly countered by the herd of people that were already on the top of the mountain before us. When I reached the top I expected the peace and serenity of nature to engulf me. Instead, I discovered myself bombarded by curious Ghanian men asking to have a million pictures with us.
Kat politely posed for the seemingly endless photo shot, which may or may not have resulted in her being proposed to or impregnated (you choose). I attempted to escape to the other side of the peak, and tried to breathlessly answer the slew of common questions: where are you from, how long have you been here, how long will you be here, are you married, and will you take me back to America with you. It was not until the group left the peak that I was able to take in the spectacular spectacle that lay around me.
My jello legs carried me back down the mountain, and I made it back to Ho safe and sound once again.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
I am standing outside witnessing a building going up in flames. Then the building is apparently detached from the connecting buildings and pushed off into the canal. I see a girl successfully escape from the flames, and I pull her to safety. As I turn from the destructive scene, Bruce Willis approaches me to talk about the future of our movie together. In the end, we decide that we should first eat a cookie from the bakery window. mmm, tastes like victory.
Dreams have gotten the better of me the past couple of weeks. Let's just say that about 90% of my dreams end in food, and about 100% of my dreams have had some of my family members in them. J and Cori, we were taking a pot of potato salad out to the soccer field for a picnic. Colleen, you and I were going to go to a Broadway musical. Han, I know I celebrated your birthday in one of my dreams, and Rachel you were kayaking in one of my dreams. Matt man, you were in there too, but sadly you weren't allowed to come to the Broadway musical because you had to watch the kids. = )
The days have developed a certain routine. Teaching 9-2, and adventuring 2-10. (That's right, I go to bed around 10.) Today Kat and I even got to hold precious puppies that were only a couple weeks old. The randomness of our encounters never ceases to amaze me. Don't worry mom, I washed my hands afterward. This weekend we are going to tackle our biggest adventure yet: a mountain.
No two days are alike, and people still seemed surprised to see two white girls walking about. I am beginning to think we are rather odd myself.
Dreams have gotten the better of me the past couple of weeks. Let's just say that about 90% of my dreams end in food, and about 100% of my dreams have had some of my family members in them. J and Cori, we were taking a pot of potato salad out to the soccer field for a picnic. Colleen, you and I were going to go to a Broadway musical. Han, I know I celebrated your birthday in one of my dreams, and Rachel you were kayaking in one of my dreams. Matt man, you were in there too, but sadly you weren't allowed to come to the Broadway musical because you had to watch the kids. = )
The days have developed a certain routine. Teaching 9-2, and adventuring 2-10. (That's right, I go to bed around 10.) Today Kat and I even got to hold precious puppies that were only a couple weeks old. The randomness of our encounters never ceases to amaze me. Don't worry mom, I washed my hands afterward. This weekend we are going to tackle our biggest adventure yet: a mountain.
No two days are alike, and people still seemed surprised to see two white girls walking about. I am beginning to think we are rather odd myself.
Friday, August 13, 2010
the teacher is taught
I have finished 5 days of teaching, and the crash course in teaching ESL has left me mentally exhausted. Without the help of my wonderful sister-in-law, I would probably would not have made it through this first week. However, I have learned some crucial lessons from the children already. Number 1: a little squishy ball can be a teacher's best friend. It serves as both a teaching tool and a time killer for all age levels. Who doesn't like to chuck at soccer ball at their classmates with the teacher's permission. Which leads to lesson number 2: boys and girls automatically separate themselves unless you intervene. It makes me chuckle to see young children mold in the roles that they deem appropriate for their sex. For instance, today the boys were romping and wrestling in the dust while the girls proceeded to play an organized game of toss inside. Kat and I are attempting to break the molds with our rusty "football" skills at the stadium tomorrow.
Lesson number 3: stickers are equal to candy in Ghana. It is going to be hard to save the stickers because I want to reward all the children for their attentiveness and efforts. I have been extraordinarily impressed with the bright students I have in my classroom. Across the board, the students are so diligent with their studies and constantly ask for more work and more books. I cannot even imagine what it would be like if these children had daily access to a computer lab and library.
Lesson number 3: stickers are equal to candy in Ghana. It is going to be hard to save the stickers because I want to reward all the children for their attentiveness and efforts. I have been extraordinarily impressed with the bright students I have in my classroom. Across the board, the students are so diligent with their studies and constantly ask for more work and more books. I cannot even imagine what it would be like if these children had daily access to a computer lab and library.
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