A Quick Trip to Sierra Leone

Last week, I flew from Accra to Freetown, Sierra Leone to meet up with an old professor and 16 current Lawrence students.  Now, the flight was only a bit over 2 hours but the geographical changes that occurred over those 2,000 kilometers were greater than I expected, even having been to Sierra Leone twice before.  My reasons for traveling were two-fold: to help the students with their individual environmental/economics research projects and to attend a Rotary meeting in Freetown.  Of course, I also wanted to see my professor and all my Sierra Leonean friends after finishing a stressful few weeks of exams.

It was only expected that almost immediately after arrival people began questioning me about Ghana. If I mentioned something about the food or something about the music, my Sierra Leonean friends would quickly say, "Ohhhhh... so you're Ghanaian now..." with more than hints of sarcasm.  In all honesty, it was cute how jealous and protective they became.

In terms of questioning by the American students, it usually focused on which country I liked better.  Of course, that is a completely unfair question.  So naturally, I'm going to try to explore it:

The first noticeable difference between Ghana and Sierra Leone is the land.  Both are on the Atlantic Ocean but Freetown is blessed with beautiful mountains along the coast ("Sierra Leone" is Portuguese for "lion mountains" because the mountains are shaped like a sleeping lion).  Freetown almost reminds me a bit of California, with houses splattered around areas of different elevation.

The other noticeable difference is the smell. Freetown smells like burning. This makes sense, as fire seems to be the answer to many problems in Sierra Leone- from taking care of overgrown brush to incinerating garbage. Sometimes in Accra, I get a whiff of something and think "Ooooo, it smells like Sierra Leone," then I realize it's because there's smoke coming out of a nearby pile of leaves.

Humor.  Humor is ridiculously culture-based.  Sierra Leoneans are pranksters. They're goofy. And for that reason, I feel very comfortable joking around with my Sierra Leonean friends.  Especially in physical, animated ways, it is easy to be silly with them.  In Ghana, I am surrounded by an educated demographic, so my humor here is more witty, more biting, more thought-out.  My humor with the American students (which I didn't realize how much I missed) was more reference-based.  We could talk about things from PBS kid's shows or current events or happenings at Lawrence.

Then there's the whole development issue. I was more physically comfortable in Sierra Leone, even though Ghana is much more developed. This surprises everyone (including myself), so I have thought quite a bit about it. Here is my conclusion: Sierra Leone feels like it is supposed to be a different country- a unique country, a country that gives a good, interesting vacation.  Even though Ghana has better roads, billboards, malls, and toilets with toilet seats, it does not seem to give much more of a comfort level to visitors.  Essentially, Accra feels like one of the lesser developed cities in the US.  The tricky part of this comparison is that I'm sure that if I went to school in Sierra Leone, I would quickly become much more uncomfortable than I am in Ghana, but I have not experienced that. The weather was also slightly cooler in Sierra Leone, which I think made a big difference.

                         (A really bad picture of Accra Mall- in the background)

My views of the countries are definitely products of how I experience them.  I have been implemented into the cultures in very different ways. In Sierra Leone, I learn about the food because we have a private cook who teaches us about all the local dishes. In Ghana, I'm in charge of food myself so it's therefore much less interesting.  In Sierra Leone, I learn about the people's values because of talking with our houseboys, translators, and friends who take us around the country.  In Ghana, I spend hours with Ghanaian students, so I can learn about how they think, what they like, and their relationships with their families just by hanging out in the dorms or in class. In Sierra Leone, I was able to see cities all around the country because we had a private car and a driver.  In Ghana, I am tied to one city because I have classes to attend; I get to know this one city much better than I would one city in Sierra Leone, but I know less about how those cultural traits change around the country. Traveling is also more difficult when you have to pay for taxis everywhere.

The Rotary clubs are very similar between the countries. Spirited, sparky, energetic.  At the meeting in Freetown, I was able to talk a bit about what the Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship entails and learn about some of Freetown's service projects.  They focus a lot on medical care for women and children.

My host sister picked me up from the airport in Accra (Both she and my host mother work at the airport) and brought me to the house for dinner.  At the table, my host father says, "Didn't you miss kenkey?" pointing to the balls of mashed cornmeal on the table.  I laughed and said not really, to which he jokingly replies, "You're not going back there again." I have people who care a lot about me in both places. Amazing how you can make family and friends in a few weeks or a few months time.

Sooo, Ghana or Sierra Leone? Well, one is my second home and one is my home away from home.  I'm just lucky I guess.

Exams

Please excuse my lack of blogging lately.  The semester ended last week so students are now busily preparing for exams.

Exams here are somewhat more daunting than they are back home. This is because there are minimal to no assignments given throughout the semester.  That means these three-hour, three-essay-questions exams determine your entire grade.  It seems a bit odd to me that your response to only a few questions could possibly dictate how much you learned over 14 weeks.  But I guess that is the challenge.

I have 5 classes and the time table spreads the exams over three weeks.  This is also very different from back home, where cramming meant cramming (only one night to study everything).  Here cramming takes place because the lack of assignments during the term provides the opportunity to slack off on reading.  Still, it's not really cramming when there at least 4 days in-between exams.

On the bright side, an 80% and up here is considered an A while back home, it was 93%.  But then again, they grade harder here. I suppose it all balances out. We'll see. :)

Flattered?

Sunday night I was called Celine Dion by someone on the streets of downtown Accra.   The Ghanaian I was with thought it was the funniest thing in the world.




I thought this deserved its own post.

"By God's Grace"

At 5:30 AM this morning, I awoke to a young woman preaching below our balcony.  She was passionately shouting about Jesus’ love to everyone in our hostel.  I recognized her voice; she frequents the hostels around this area at night and early in the morning.  For about half an hour, everyone in the area is subjected to what we are missing in life, why we need to follow the message, and what might happen if we choose otherwise.  What I do not understand is why she would want us to be in a bad mood when she gives her message.  What I do understand is that she thinks she is helping us and thinks it is her duty to do so.

I hesitate to write this post because religion and politics are topics to be avoided in casual US conversation.  But this is why I must write it.  Religion is something everyone talks about here.  And this is why I am thrown off.

Almost every Sunday, about 5 people ask if I have gone to church, if so, where, and if not, why not.  People seem to take it personally if Lesego or I say we did not go.  I recognize that many Ghanaian students have been raised in a culture where religion comes first- or rather the practice comes first.  I mean, I went to church every Sunday as a child but did not feel guilty if I missed it due to a soccer game or being out of town.  For me, God can still be a priority without my physical presence in that building.  But based on the two different interdenominational services I have attended, I have learned they teach the idea that it’s their task to save others by spreading the message.  I think it is this attitude of having the only answer that really confuses me.

One thing that seems to be a common thread in religion in Ghana is noise.  Oh, the noise, noise, noise, noise (am I a Grinch?...).  Every night, students gather in the field next to my hostel to chant, pray and sing.  At one of the interdenominational services, everyone shouted out their prayers at the same time even though music was blaring and the pastor was shouting into the microphone as well.  Okay, this is just a style, one which is probably very powerful for some people.  But I could not even hear my own thoughts. How am I supposed to hear God?

I personally believe that it is enough to have a quiet, reflective 20-30 minutes to talk to God, then go out and live it.  My professor once said something similar to this in class as he criticized what many Ghanaians do.  He said, “You find that your husband is having an affair, so you go to a field and start singing and praying it about it all day and all night instead of going to the home, talking to him, and giving him reason to stay!”

I am always hesitant at first to judge.  Was this religious climate common to Africa, West Africa, Ghana? I do think this is something particular to Ghana based on conversations with other African international students.  A friend from Uganda says he at times asks people something to see if they reply in a religious manner.  For instance, he told a classmate that Ghanaian women are very beautiful, to which she replied, “By God’s grace.”  This line, according to him, he hears almost daily.  Lesego said a girl followed her to class one day, talking about Jesus the entire walk and asking for her telephone number so she could take Lesego to church.

In one of the first orientations for international students, the dean of International Programmes warned us that people here are very religious.  However, she said, it is sad that some find a hard time living it out.  They will pray and pray, but still steal and cheat and lie.  She says she hopes Ghana can someday achieve a balance. I also find it slightly ironic that this Christianity traces it history to colonization, when initially people resisted the forced conversion.  Now it is truly their own.

When I see Jews practice or learn of Muslim beliefs with which I disagree, it somehow bothers me less than certain practices of Christianity here.  I have been pondering this for a while.  The conclusion: religion here is a warped version of my own.  Perhaps I am taking it personally whereas I can accept something that is supposed to be different, like Islam or Judaism.

I am really sorry if any Ghanaians read this and disagree. (I also know that I am largely generalizing). But remember, this is just how a Catholic girl from the US perceives it. 

Cultural Expectations of Americans

Some things in American culture are so well known here.  I am surprised to hear people talk about their love of country songs, American actors, and my favorite tv shows.  But some things I cannot believe people do not know about us.  For instance: women in the U.S. shave their legs.  Typical college students in the U.S. do not believe in witches.  Yes, I have been questioned on both of these issues.

  What I have learned so far: do not maintain any assumptions- that people know something or do not know something.   I am learning how to learn about people.

How fitting, now that I’m in the social sciences.

The Irony that is Ghana

Take a look at this picture and see if you can tell what is going on. 

 

The past few days, our hostel has been out of water.  This means no showers or flushing toilets.  Yesterday morning, I awoke to pouring rain and found that our water was still gone.  So here I was, going downstairs to fill my bucket because, though water was everywhere, we had none.

The situation made me laugh because it seems to describe Ghana’s current situation. Stuck.  There are commodities, but they are unreliable.  That is perhaps the root of most of my frustrations here.  It is the in-between nature of developing and developed that makes living here unpredictable.  It’s almost easier to have a hole in the ground than a toilet that only flushes every once in a while.

But I need to be understanding because at least they’re on their way.

Among Friends

Yesterday I realized how true is the quote on the back of my high school sophomore class t-shirt:

“Turns out not where you are but who you’re with that really matters”

Christina, the Ghanaian girl in the room adjacent to our common bathroom visited Lesego and me yesterday morning to ask us if we wanted to go to church.  I had been meaning to see what churches here were like for the past couple of weeks- there are several on campus.  We went to the Legon Interdenominational Church, which was an interesting experience (I will elaborate in a later post).  It also took up all of the morning.

The rainy day led us to read in our room during the afternoon and eventually brought us to the decision that we needed to leave campus and go somewhere fun for dinner.  The problem is neither of us knows anywhere to go or how to get there.  Then I remembered Christina did her undergrad at the University of Ghana and is a perfect person to ask.  She was finishing a bowl of fufu when I called her, but she said she would come back to the room and talk with us.  

Christina has a big personality.  And I mean HUGE.

She and Harrison, her friend from Cameroon, decided to come out with Lesego, Sharon, and me to a place in East Legon.  She took shotgun in the taxi and proceeded to talk with the driver as if she had known him her whole life.  When he said he wanted 7 cedis, she turns to him, eyes bulged and goofily says “7 cediiis?” and shakes his shoulders.  Then she tells the radio to shut up as she turns it down, looks at him and goes, “6” then keeps dancing to the radio, which she had turned back up.  The four of us were dying in the back seat.

The chop and grill place had live entertainment all night long! It was exactly what we were looking for.  First, there were acrobats who ate fire and glass and frolicked around. Then there was the “cowboy” who sang a series of country songs.  Eventually a band came out and we danced for a good 2 hours by our table.  

                                  A little glass-eating at dinner

Really danced.  I hadn’t sweat so much since I got here.  Lesego and I got to practice some of the salsa moves we learned from a class we’re taking. 

                             Sharing a dance with Harrison, Christina, and Sharon

As Christina said in the taxi on the way back, “I have not laughed so genuinely for so long!”  Her voice is a bit hoarse today.  Apparently my dance moves really surprised her.  Lesego said, “Don’t hate me, but we tend to think white people can’t dance.” I guess that’s a pretty reasonable stereotype. Whatever.

It was such a light-hearted Sunday evening. I feel like I belong here because I am with good people. That is all you can ask for.

Learning From my Host Family: Language in Ghana

Rotarian Fredi and Rotarian Emma have proven to be wonderful host parents.  They could not being doing a better job of taking care of me and providing a home away from home.  Living in West Legon, Fredi and Emma's house is only a 10-minute drive from campus so they pick me up a few times a week for dinner.  Emma has even said I can just go to the house any time I want.  If only addresses were used here because I still could not explain their location to a taxi driver.

It’s nice having a reliable reference for my questions regarding Ghanaian culture and traditions.  For instance, I could not tell if the family only spoke English when I was around in order to be polite.  Sometimes their accents make it sound like they are talking in Twi.  I asked Emma about it.  She said they only speak English at home, which I was not expecting at all.  In fact, the children are not fluent in Twi; she and Fredi used to speak it when they did not want the children to know what they were saying.  Now however, the kids have picked up too much Twi for that. 

I am still curious how English is viewed in Ghana.  I can’t help but wonder if it is pretentious, for business people, for foreigners, for the educated-or maybe it’s just for anyone- if it is only taught in school or can be picked up from daily life, and if there are hybrids of English and Twi.  Sometime I will ask Emma and Fredi. 

There are certainly different “degrees” of Ghanaian accents.  It’s always a debate whether you should ask a person to repeat himself three times and risk looking foolish or answer the question you think was asked… and risk looking foolish.  Of course, sometimes it is like that back home as well (I’m looking at you, mumblers :P ). My lectures are for the most part understandable, though a few professors have their moments.

The two words I hear the most: “Akwaaba!” (welcome) and “Obruni!” (white girl).

Dealing With Money

 The main unit of currency in Ghana is the cedi (pronounced “seedy”).  One US dollar is equivalent to about 1.5 cedis, and while I’m a math nerd and like to convert down to the cent, it’s also very tempting to think everything is a good deal because the price in dollars is always less than the listed amount in cedis.  Likewise, it’s tempting to think that because this is a developing country everything is cheap.  Lately however, I have begun to realize that is just not the case.  I’m shocked that shampoo costs about $7 or a frozen popcicle is $2.  

The trick is to go to markets to get materials, but then again it is a very difficult endeavor to bargain when you are white.  Yesterday, I went with a classmate, Hannah, to Central Accra market; several times she would talk to the vendor to get the price of something she needed then turn around and walk away.  Apparently they “see me with a white lady and raise the price.”  Whoops, sorry about that. I wasn’t even the one asking or buying. I have no problem bargaining, but you need a general idea of how much something should cost before you can do that.  

Central Accra Market was a world of its own.  This huge outdoor market has everything you would ever need (or not need).  Even though it was a Monday, the place was packed.  Think of driving in Dehli or the traffic jam around l’Arc de Triumph.  It was like that… but with people.  Hannah was walking very fast in front of me, and I was struggling to follow.  Not only do you need to look down because the ground is made of stochastically-placed stone in concrete and there are deep cement gutters lining all the roadsides; you also need to watch your head for the platters full of fruit or soap or fabrics that women carry on their heads.  Not to mention I also needed to keep an eye on Hannah so I wouldn’t lose her.  It is necessary to thrust your body in front of people or basically cut them off to get anywhere. And you learn not to feel bad about it. 

When leaving the market, we thought it would be easiest to get a taxi. I stood a bit distant so as not to be seen. Hannah finally found one that would take 6 cedis, for two people she specified.  Once we got in, they started talking in Twi and after a few minutes she turned to me and said, “Get out. This man wants to cheat us.”  Apparently he raised the price to 8 cedis, (which was only a little over a dollar more) but the fact that he changed the price after it was negotiated solely on the basis that I was white was unacceptable. 

My roommate Lesego and I were discussing the observation that things here all seem so expensive.  We agreed that public transportation was the one relatively cheap commodity.  There are loads of “tro-tro’s” that travel back and forth along the roads of Accra.  These are small bus/large van type vehicles manned by the driver and the “mate.”  They pull over to the side of the road wherever there is a crowd of people waiting, the mate shouts out the direction or destination, and then people hop in or out of the vehicle. Trust me, these hot crowded vans are not the most comfortable mode of transportation, but they only cost about 40 pesewas (cents).

Lesego and I took a tro-tro to Madina Market today so we could get cooking materials.  Though our hostel has a kitchen, it provides nothing beyond a sink.  For 20 cedis we got a rice cooker; for 35 cedis we got a hot-plate; and for 21 cedis we got a pot and a frying pan.  I sort of feel that we got ripped off, but we did have a Ghanain with us.  Lesego is from Botswana, so once she talks, she gives herself away. When we were walking to the tro-tro, I told her to put on her mean face so that she could be in charge of bargaining.  She turned to me and said, “That is not a good price!” then starts dying of laughter.  At 5’5” and maybe 115 lbs, her stature does not provide the most intimidating confrontation.

             The picture above is the outside of Madina Market.  It gets much more packed inside.

On the way back from the market, we bought a grilled plantain for 40 pesewas. Usually everything is fried here, so we jumped on the opportunity.  We got this one from a market on campus where apparently they use old test papers to distribute their plantain. It gave us a laugh.  Hopefully now we can start cooking for ourselves because we have been buying almost all of our meals at cafeterias around campus.  Though meals are only a few dollars each, that will start to add up.

It’s nice that Lesego and I are able to share a lot of things.  We are comfortable enough that sometimes she will buy a meal and share it or vice versa, and sometimes we’ll pay for the other’s transportation.  It’s great because neither one of us ever “keeps score.”

true initiation: a trip to the hospital

Last Friday was the first day that I actually missed home.  And know what did me in?

Strep throat.

While I was sitting in the hospital waiting for the registrar from the University’s International Programs Office to figure everything out, I realized that down the road I would probably appreciate this ordeal for the cultural experience it provided, but at the moment, I was in no state to be thinking about anything other than pain.  I was pulled from room to room only to wait outside a closed door while administrative processes were taken care of… at least I assume that’s what was going on.  Alone, I honestly would have had no idea where to go or how to see any sort of doctor.  The hospital was slightly reminiscent of a motel.  All the unlabeled rooms were connected to an outdoor waiting area, which was full of people.

I did feel a bit silly there- the only white girl- needing drugs for a silly throat ache.   Other women sat calmly, crying baby in their arms, wrapped in beautiful African print.  There were probably worse cases sitting on those waiting benches (malaria here is as common as our flu back home), and I couldn’t help but feel like I was taking time from them.  Then again, that also seems presumptuous of me.  Do I actually feel like everyone in the “third world” is worse off than me or was I merely trained to think like that?  Nevertheless, the hospital indeed felt different than anything I’ve known: the smell of antiseptic, the wood benches perched outside a room of three nurses checking patients’ temperatures right next to each other.  I couldn’t help but think of my car taking me to a nice air-conditioned building where I would merely confirm my insurance, sit in a comfy chair in a carpeted room full of the latest magazines, and wait for a smiling nurse to promptly call my name. 

I have moved into a graduate hostel and am rooming with a wonderful person from Botswana.  Lesego (luh-say-ho) is doing a two-year master’s in food science.  I could tell we would get along when she asked the woman at the bank for an extra Werther’s Original for me because I was patiently waiting for her.  I could tell we would be friends when she called me at the hospital and asked if she could come wait with me.  We laugh a lot so I know it will be a good friendship. People at the International Programs Office are nice, but it’s even more comforting to know that a peer has your back.  

Today was the first day of classes.  Even though all the students know the professors don’t view the real first day to be until next week, we still had to show up and wait a good 30-45 minutes just to make sure.  I’m so used to Lawrence where professors scrounge for every minute.  It just seems a little funny.  In all honesty, I would love nothing more than to start classes and feel like my life is getting going.  Right now it seems like I’m on some weird non-traveling, non-sight-seeing vacation. Finally unpacked my suitcase today even though they are going to move us to the building next door sometime in the “near future.” I’m aware that Ghanaian time is different, but I’m still trying to get a feel for exactly how much.

Getting Settled

Wow, is it ever difficult to be culturally sensitive.   Sensitive is not really the right word, though… moreso aware.  For example, don’t raise your left hand, shake hands with the left, eat with the left, or give a thumbs up with the left.  Supposedly, it’s the hand that does dirty work, so you do not use it when dealing with people you respect. That’s going to be a tricky one to remember.

The first couple days here reminded me of what it feels like to be a middle schooler.  How are you supposed to force making friends?  It took a long time for me to leave my temporary single room in the International Students Hostel and go eat breakfast in a crowd of white kids.  It is interesting- I would feel more comfortable NOT sitting with a bunch of white kids because it is my duty to be an ambassador- not to mention I don’t like being just one of the “bunch”.  But the thing is, these international students are from Germany, Canada, Norway, and the Czech Republic.  Staying true to the theme of this blog, it is just as valuable to learn about the perspectives of these students – to hear of their expectations, their reasons for choosing Ghana, their thoughts so far- as it is to cultivate your own.  I know with time I will meet many Ghanaians and feel more immersed in the culture.

I have spent the past few evenings at my host family’s house for dinner.  They have a large, beautiful house that has seen 7 children throughout the years.  What I have enjoyed most so far is bonding with the women.  In Sierra Leone, I really missed learning about what it was like to be an African woman.  Only hearing stories from young men does not provide the best perspective.  The women seemed almost lost in that country, and it made me sad.  I am moving soon to the graduate hostel, so hopefully a Ghanaian roommate will only add to my experience.  I have already talked with my host family about music, books, and movies, and they are entirely familiar with almost everything I mention.  They like to watch movies just as much as I do and have way more than I own.  It’s funny how you can think cultures are so different, but somehow they share common themes. Then again, there are several ways of living within any country, be it Ghana or the US.  I’m sure there are Ghanaians who do not have over 100 movies on their computer…

You know how parents always tell kids to wear sunscreen even when it’s cloudy because the UV rays will still hit you?  Well that’s even more the case near the equator.

I keep telling myself the words that the Dean of International Programmes stated at an orientation for international students:  “You knew coming here that this is Ghana.  This is a developing country.  It is your responsibility to represent this University well.  Do not focus your conversations with your friends and family on the fact that there is no warm water, that the electricity goes out from time to time, that there is unreliable internet.  You knew that coming here.”

While I have no problems with cold water and minimal working technology, I do find it stressful when there is a lack of information on how to register for classes, on how to bank, or on whom to talk with in order to get anything accomplished. 

I knew all this ahead of time as well, but it doesn’t make the process any easier.

It is almost vital to have a Ghanaian help you out with logistics.  Thankfully, the assistant Registrar at the International Programmes office has been taking good care of me, since “Ghanaians take care of friends,” as he says.  He has helped me get help at the accountant’s office, dorms, banks, and the graduate school.  Trust me, it is not easy to find out who you need to talk to or what form you need or where you can get that form... especially when almost every building is packed with people and it is always far from obvious who is the one in charge.  Today alone, I walked about 4 miles back and forth all over campus to sort out registration.  Everything always tends to work out though, so it should be fine.

I had my first “embarrassed to be an American” moment last weekend.  At a dinner with the Dean of International Programmes, a representative from each country was given a minute to tell the rest of the students some background on his or her respective country.  Three New Jersey girls (of mixed ethnicities mind you) stood up and stated that the US had none of the strict traditions or rules that the Norwegians just mentioned.  In the US, you can pretty much do what you want. When asked why they chose to study abroad in Ghana, they explained: “Our school offered only a few different exchange programs, so there was either South Africa, which really isn’t Africa, or Ghana.  So we’re here.”  Then they proceeded to finish with “Basically, the US is the bomb!!”

 I don’t counter them by telling people how nice and wonderful the US actually is; I contradict them by just being myself.

Background

I figure I should probably give you some information on why I have this blog in the first place, in case you have no idea what I was talking about in that last post.

I want to share how Ghana is viewed from hazel eyes.

Through a Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship, I will spend the next year in Ghana being, well, a scholar and an ambassador.  Rotary District 6220 is my sponsor while district 9100 is my host district. I will be taking Master's courses in the Department of Geography and Resource Development at the University of Ghana. Though I majored in Geology, I find the link between environmental contamination and public health most interesting.  Despite what you'd think, Medical Geology is quite the emerging field.  To be a fruitful good-will-spreader, I will also give several talks to Rotary and non-Rotary audiences within and hopefully out of the country.

The most common question I receive after telling someone about the scholarship is: why did you choose Ghana?  My real question is why  someone would choose Paris or London.  "Developing" (sorry if you hate that word) countries are the perfect settings to study environmental catch 22's.  How do you enter the world stage without destroying your environment in the process?  Is sustainable development an oxymoron and are there human health ramifications to current environmentally-related decisions?

Water quality, air pollution, mining waste, and other geochemical issues are fascinating.  I hope to explore these.  And what's more, my experience with Africa (via Sierra Leone) taught me that this part of the continent is colorful and lively.  All the Ghanaians I know are wonderful.  This is a perfect place to study Global Environmental Health.  Not to mention it will be different enough to help me see myself as well.

Introduction

Interesting blog title, right? Well, here's the deal:

This blog is written by me.  The events henceforth described, the emotions detailed, are "seen" from my hazel eyes.  If there's one thing I learned from my Lawrence University intro history class, it's that everything can be analyzed for what it is.  Even the most biased historical documents tell you something about the authors, about their perspectives.  
So, if you think something I put on here is controversial or politically incorrect, take it for what it's worth.  I of all people have never felt I was informed on a topic well enough to have a real opinion on it. (Good luck to me when someone asks about my views on American politics).  That being said, I will share the emotional and intellectual reactions that result from current events, even when I am unsure about what they mean or where I stand.  I'm not a huge fan of unnecessary controversy-arguing for the sake of arguing, playing devil's advocate, pushing people's buttons- not my favorite.  But taking a stand on something while being willing to change is not instigating controversy; it provides opportunity for conversation.

As my dad always says, my mom is the best mirror he's ever had.  She helps him see himself in a way he never could on his own.  Travel is very much the same.  I hope more than anything to go through my looking glass.  I hope to enter a world with which I am unfamiliar.  I have heard from past Rotary scholars that often times host Rotary clubs are less interested in the story about your house and dog and white picket fence and are more interested in how you view their country.  It's not selfish; just think of how common it is to go to a new city and have someone ask you how you like it.  Generally, people are interested in how they come off to other people.  I will comment on how I perceive things and what I learn about how other people perceive things.  And perhaps, most importantly, I will occasionally step out from behind my looking glass and use it to see myself.

 As Henry Wriston, the 8th president of Lawrence University, described in the book they kindly gave us at graduation (The Nature of a Liberal College), emotion dictates action more than thoughts do and we're fools if we think otherwise. Therefore, emotional experience, cultivation, and development are a fundamental part of any education.  Perhaps stream of consciousness makes the most interesting reading.  From here on, I will try to keep sections of this blog short and sweet so you can pick out topics of interest.  I have never been one for journaling- at least in the fashion where every detail of your day is meticulously transcribed.  If I have to relive my day a second time by recording it, I artificially choose what was "important" enough to write down.  I "decide" what my emotional responses were during the day, and by putting it on paper (or cyberspace) it somehow makes it real.  Then, years down the road, I will remember the event by how I decided to describe it when journaling and not by the actual memories I had of it.  On the whole, I don't like that approach.

I guess the purpose of this blog is to (granted these are most certainly to change as I actually start blogging):
1. Let you know I'm still alive.
2. Give you a little insight into my activities.
3. Give you a little more insight into my perspective.
4. Make you think.

So, enjoy my views on anything that happens to hit my mind and my fingers.  I'll try not to be candid, but sorry, at times it will almost certainly be.  Afterall, this is the internet.

And you know how I love journaling.