i dislike frogs. and saying goodbye.

This past week was my last in Ghana - after saying goodbye to everyone and attempting to come back to life I was kicked out of my dorm and on a tro tro to Busua, which is about four hours from Accra. We needed to heal ourselves with sunshine.

People in our program had gone to Busua and come back saying it was a life changing experience and so amazing and that the burritos were above all the best. So I was going with pretty high expectations, which, scenery wise, were met. The beach is absolutely spectacular and was pretty deserted for the week we were there - right in the center of your view is a picture perfect deserted island, complete with two palm trees. There's a surfshop (yes, there is surfing in Ghana) and a few restaurants but it's mostly just different guest houses and hotels that are spread out along the beach. We were staying at Peter's Place - this is the cheapest place to stay and rightfully so. I was used to staying in crappy places after fall break, so it wasn't that bad. A basic room, with a toilet and shower separated by a partial wall - a bit awkward, but nothing too bad. The first night was uneventful, we ate at the surfshop, got our first taste of the burritos that were AMAZING, and went to bed at eight when the sun went down. The second day - lovely. Our room was literally 100 feet from the beach so we could wake up early, walk outside, and be ready to go. We laid out all day, got incredibly sunburned, swam, napped in the hammocks that belonged to the other hotels.

Then it was night time. Nights were not so exciting in Busua - there is nothing to do when the sun sets, which is at about seven. There's a few people here and there, but it's nothing like Accra. So we're in the room because we are all bright red and exhausted, and I go to use the bathroom, lift up the toilet seat, and sitting there is THE BIGGEST FROG I HAVE EVER SEEN. Just hanging out. IN OUR TOILET.

So I scream and dart out of the little passage that separates the bathroom and yell about frogs being in the toilet, and Holley and Brenda look at me as if I am crazy. "I SWEAR THERE WAS A HUGE FROG IN THE TOILET." Brenda is brave enough to go look...and there is nothing there. OF COURSE. I though I could have been delirious from the sun, my eyes were playing tricks on me, whatever. Brenda and Holley have a laugh at me and move on. So a few minutes later, I'm still afraid to go to the bathroom and Brenda is nice enough to go check again. Ten seconds later, I hear a scream. THE FROG HAS REAPPEARED. This thing is huge - and absolutely disgusting. My biggest fear is having snakes come up through the toilet, so a frog is far too close for comfort. No one uses the bathroom that night and we put a huge bag of satchet water on top because you never know...that frog could have superhuman strength and dart out of the toilet during the night. Meh. Gross.

So the next morning I complain to one of the boys who works for Peter, and he doesn't believe me and goes to check and tells me that I am being silly and there is nothing there. For the rest of the day we snuck into different bathrooms at the other hotels and the surf shop, and finally later that night Peter comes back and says that he was very disturbed by what I claimed had happened and has something to show me. He grabs my wrist and starts dragging me to the room and I am convinced he is going to show me a dead frog so I start screaming NO I DON'T WANT TO SEE and then he sighs and goes OH MY GOSH COME ON and brings me around the back of our room...and shows me the enormous hole in the pipes leading to our bathroom. Fantastic. This hole was probably the size of a baseball, and as it is above ground, is the perfect escape for little creatures such as frogs. He promises to get DDT and kill it as soon as possible...which is the next day.

Watching this man 'take care of' our pipe issue was the most entertaining hour of the week. First of all, he brings in DDT, which is a bright neon green liquid in an old liquor bottle. No labels, no nothing, just the radiating odor of chemicals. Holley and I are sitting on the bed and he is in the bathroom, and I hear "Ohh it's BIG BIG FROG! Let's let it die a little more." So I'm assuming the frog is in the toilet and this man is pouring chemicals on it - for the next ten minutes he walks in and out checking on the progression of this frogs death. "Little more! Little longer!" He finally flushes it, and after fixing the pipe with cement tells me that there was not just one frog...there was actually three. Then a few minutes later...there were actually four. Three little frogs and one "BIG BIG ONE". So we killed a mama frog and her three babies - and no, I don't feel the least bit guilty.

I realize I have written a ridiculous amount about frogs and toilets, but aside from this experience the week was literally all reading, hammocking, talking to our new friends (such as a Serbian named Milo who spoke with a southern accent and went through half a bottle of whiskey in an hour), and getting as much sun as possible. And it paid off...when we came back Marjorie told Holley and I that we had different skin and we looked like the Ghanaian flag (I'm not sure if she meant the red or yellow part...).

Since we've been back we've been hanging out with Marjorie and her adorable daughters, using the Academic center's internet/shower/refrigerator because we are pretty much homeless, and attempting to stuff four months into two suitcases. Last night we saw New Moon with our CRA Abynnah and it was the most enjoyable two hours of my life - a little dose of American culture in the form of bad movies was a lovely preview for my life starting Wednesday.

My flight is tonight...and I am still in denial. Saying goodbye to people and to places when I don't know when I'll return is incredibly difficult - also, it is Christmas in two days?? WHAT?! I am definitely not ready for snow, 2010...I have a feeling I am going to be terrified by Manhattan after being in such a relaxed 'city' as Accra...obrunis everywhere! The culture shock is going to be quite interesting.

I'm excited to get back to America and see how different it feels, but I'm definitely going to be leaving a big part of my heart in Ghana. I've promised myself (and countless others I've had to say goodbye to) that I'm going to come back one day, so that is what I'll be holding onto. It's been an amazing, ridiculous, crazy four months being here - and I've loved every day of it.

nyu in ghana, me dowapaa

Today was the last day of the NYU in Ghana program - as I'm writing this, I'm sitting in my dorm room, by myself, terrified that at any moment there will be a massive raid on the compound and I will be target number one. Why am I still in my dorm when everyone else is gone? Well, Holley, Brenda and I are all staying an extra week to go to the beach and spend some more time in Accra. I want to avoid winter in Maine and try to make my skin as dark as possible. So the plan was to leave at noon today and be at the beach by tonight. We're going to Busua, which is supposed to be like heaven on earth and I am so excited to see it, but when Holley and I are involved in travel plans, nothing is ever simple.

So it was the last day - everyone is trying to see everyone and say goodbye and get everything packed and get as many hugs and last moments in as we can. The past week has been incredibly emotional with final projects and papers and packing, and as Maggie said, we are all on an emotional cliff. The other day I couldn't find a match to light the stove and make french fries and I nearly started crying - this is a true story.

So I woke up this morning, or rather I was woken up by Maggie, and realize that not only do I have an absolutely terrible headache, but I can barely open my eyes and my skin is burning hot. Mama Maggie took my temperature and surprise! - 38.9 degrees Celcius (for all you Americans, that is a lovely 102 degrees). I felt like Beth March when she got scarlet fever. I looked like shit, I felt like shit, and I was supposed to be packed and on a tro tro in two hours <--- something that did not happen. Because we are obrunis, the first thing we think whenever we get sick is that it's malaria. I am terrible at remembering to take my malaria medication - how are you supposed to remember to do something every day! - so while everyone went to eat wakye and visit Marjorie one last time, me and my CRA Douglass took a nice little trip to Nyaho Hospital, which Douglass told me was the best private hospital in Accra. I wasn't impressed. I was there for four hours. We waited in reception, we waited in the 'temperature room', we waited in the waiting room, we waited at the laboratory. I've been tested for malaria before and it was so painful, but the doctor today, who was probably about fifty, told me that this one wouldn't hurt because he'd mixed in sugar and honey and all that sweet stuff. Charming. He then told me that he'd come to America with me and I should pack him in my luggage.

I got my test results and they came back negative, although the doctor told me that the pills I take could affect the results. It was quite a letdown - if I'm going to be this sick I want to be able to put a name to what I have, not say "it's maybe malaria it's like a virus or the flu or something like that I'm on antibiotics". Especially if it meant missing everyone's last day. Which was incredibly not okay - it is so surreal that this experience is over. The fact that tomorrow nearly everyone will be back in America and in all different places and eating McDonalds is too strange for me to understand when I am still sitting here - well, laying here - in Ghana. It's never going to be like this again - although we'll all see each other in New York and all of us want to return to Ghana, it's never going to be the same as the past four months have been. Which, if I had to sum it up - was amazing. I'm lucky that I was too sick to go to the hospital and say goodbye to everyone - it was hard enough saying goodbye to everyone from the couch. The past four months have been filled with beautiful moments and wonderful people - I feel so lucky to have had the chance to experience it. I still have a week and a half left, but it already feels very different being here without everyone else - sitting in my dorm room without Maggie across from me just doesn't feel right, and while it's sad, and change is never easy, I mostly feel grateful to have been here.

And now I must continue my aspirin regimen so that I can make it through a seven hour tro tro ride tomorrow. Busua - you better be worth it.

it's beginning to look a lot like...no, not really.

This was my second year in a row being away from home for Thanksgiving, and the two that I have had abroad have been...interesting. Last year when I was in London, I won tickets to see MGMT on Thanksgiving night in the most intense and epic ebay battle of my life. The concert was amazing - Ben and Andrew dressed as pilgrims and Indians, I danced and fell more in love with Andrew, and all was good.

NYU in London did nothing for us for Thanksgiving, so I wasn't expecting anything from NYU in Ghana, but I guess because we're in Africa and about as far away from American holiday culture as you can get, and because lately all we've been hearing about the holidays is that we have to protect our valuables because there's been an increase in machete attacks, they decided to throw us a big dinner event. And when I say big, I mean big. Turkeys were flown in, our director brought Ocean Spray cranberry sauce back with her from her last trip to America, and everyone started planning desserts to contribute. It was very fancy schmancy - tablecloths, candles - much more formal than any Thanksgiving I've had, where we usually wear pajamas and watch television until its time to eat. I'm a vegetarian, so the turkeys they brought out didn't interest me, but according to the carnivores it was amazing and 'juicy' (that sounds disgusting to me). They also have some amazing mac and cheese and SO MUCH mashed potatoes, which they thoughtfully set right in front of me. Snickerdoodles, chocolate chip cookies, Mississippi mud pie - so much food that none of us could do anything after but fall asleep or moan about our stomachs being full. After we had all stuffed ourselves, they switched from elevator music to hiplife, since any night is not complete without dancing to Bumper to Bumper and World Trade Center (youtube it).

I have always been the number one Christmas enthusiast, and Thanksgiving is the time when I create my massive Christmas music playlist and force everyone to listen to it incessantly, but this year I have felt absolutely no connection to the holidays. It's very strange to be sweating your ass off in ninety degree weather and see wreaths and garland randomly hanging up in stores. It was amazing to be in London around the holiday season - Harrods beats Macy's any day - but here...not so much. It is December and yet I am waking up covered in sweat because our air conditioner has been broken. Snow? Christmas carols? Doesn't really fit in here. I am fine, however, sitting in the air conditioner watching Elf and Love Actually instead of working on my final paper. Christmas may not translate, but procrastination does.