Setting fire to the rain

So I’ve much to talk about, too much actually. Let’s get started.

First and foremost: All of my mail has been getting lost. Ghana’s postal service has been eating up anything and everything for a Diana Hsieh since November. Depressing, I know. I’m sorry for any letters I haven’t responded to! I promise it wasn’t intentional. I’m trying to get it worked out and I’ll keep you all updated. 

Second: Integrating into my community is going well! I’ve stopped cooking at my site. My host mother makes me food every day and I’ve come to enjoy Ghanaian food. I remember just 3 months ago I was struggling and fighting to get through a starchy ball of fufu, but now I look find myself looking forward to it. I’m enjoying talking to all of the village people.

I believe I am becoming more and more accepted as a member and less like a guest. I’m laughing constantly with my village, mostly about some shenanigans I did or am trying to do. The other day my community dyed my entire left hand black with henna. Sometimes I wake up and think “Demon!!” before I remember. It’s a sign of beauty in my community to dye the sides of their feet black and their hands. They don’t do any type of decoration though (no cool swirls, dots, loops or patterns). They put my hand in a plastic bag overnight with crushed up plants and water. When I woke up my hand had swelled up and turned into grandma hands to the MAX. It was actually painful but no worries folks, it’s a-ok now (minus the scared looks I get from people who aren’t from the northern region of Ghana haha).

Integration is almost going too well… sometimes I wonder how I’ll be able to go back to the American culture haha. 

Third: Every compound in Yapalsi has a tube that allows liquids to flow outside of their homes. This drainage will contain urine, bath water, cooking water, laundry water, etc. Well I was tired of stepping over one of these sludge streams and decided to do something about it so I made a soak away pit in my compound.
A soak away pit is pretty much a hole filled in with rocks. You dig the hole right in front of the end of the tube (where the liquid is flowing out) and the sludgy water won’t turn into a stream of foul smelling-ness, but rather sink into the ground. So I just have to dig a hole and fill it in with rocks, simple right? No.

I get a hoe and begin digging up the ground. The beginning half foot is not pleasant and it isn’t an understatement to say I played in pee all day (or the next day) long. After about a foot down I realize that the hoe I’m using isn’t actually able to pull out the freshly dug up dirt and the metal part keeps falling off. It’s strange but somehow a shovel doesn’t exist in Yapalsi… so I’m forced to become creative. With a combination of a lot of squeals (“oh my god oh my god what did I just touch?! Gross gross gross!! Diana WHY are you doing this?? Do not touch that. Whatever you do don't touch it! Get it off, holy shit get it OFF.) and pure determination (perhaps stupidity) a make shift shovel was improvised out of a piece of sheet metal, a larger hoe, and… my hands.

Two days of work goes into this hole in the ground and then an hour or two searching for the rocks. Now I have to see how it works. If it works well I’ll share it with the other community members and if it doesn’t work well I’ll have to dig the hole deeper I suppose. Cross your fingers that 2.5x2.5 feet were enough.

Fourth and most recent: I went to a workshop in Togo this past week! It was a diversity training workshop where all the attendees (varying PCers in West Africa) learned about how to begin their own diversity committees, how to address diversity, and how to be a good ally. First a shout out to the Togo PC team for doing such an excellent brilliant job. It is no understatement for me to say that what I learned will stay with me for the rest of my life.  

It’s fitting for me to be writing this blog at this moment because the rain is pouring down (hello rainy season!) and listening to the beautiful Adele sing about “setting fire to the rain” I realize how I’ve discovered another dimension to myself and to society. We are all different and diverse people who come from varying cultures (isn’t this what makes world travel so much fun?). No one culture is completely correct or wrong, they are all just different. West African culture unfortunately discriminates against a specific community but I’ve seen that individuals are able to go against their culture and make decisions for themselves. It’s a breath of fresh air I got when I didn't know I was holding my breath.

Rain can burn.