We’re back in Bangkok! We arrived this morning after a tiring ten-hour train ride last night. We’re all pretty sleep deprived and cranky from the long ride. We’ve been in the hostel lobby for a three hours waiting to get into our rooms for some well-needed showers and naps. I’m guessing tonight we’ll do some last-minute shopping and bonding in Bangkok before we leave early this morning for home. Deb and Wei-Hao are planning to take us out to one last big group dinner, yum (: 

Chaing Mai was really amazing. We stayed in the city for a day before we went to the Elephant Nature Park. The city was so much fun; the temperature was much better than in Bangkok  and there weren’t as many tourists. It was very authentic and quaint, we all really enjoyed our time there. Peter, Ade, Paul and David rented mopeds for the day and spent the whole day exploring the city. I let Peter drive me around on one for a little while; those things go much faster than you’d expect! We went to dinner at this really cool restaurant that night where you sit barefoot on the floor and they bring you out big trays of food. At the end there was a big show where they dressed up and performed a bunch of their traditional dances. I think that was my favorite day of the trip. The next day we drove to the Elephant Nature Park which is in the mountains about 30 minutes from Chaing Mai. The ride there was beautiful. When we got there we were welcomed by Jack, who was our volunteer coordinator for the week. Everyday we woke up at seven, had breakfast and then started our work. Some of it was really hard; the first day we drove to a corn field and chopped corn with machetes all morning. That was the hardest job, the others were all pretty reasonable. Everyday we fed and bathed the elephants which was really cool. We scooped their poop and made food for the old elephants who can’t chew vegetables pretty frequently. The staff told us each of the elephant’s stories; it’s really amazing what they have been through. Many of them were blind and or had awful limps or other deformities due to abuse from their previous owners. I was glad to be helping them in their new life. the living conditions were very simple, almost like cabins at summer camp, and although it was hard after a long day to have no hot water, roughing it added to the experience. The food was all vegetarian which everyone else complained about but made me a very happy camper (: I had great Thai meals three times a day with delicious fresh fruit and juice. The stars really amazed me, I don’t think I realized there were even that many stars in the sky. Everything was so clear. We met a lot of great young people at the park, most of whom were volunteering for a week like us and then continuing on to travel the world. I had some great conversations with a few of them in particular who convinced me to travel south america sometime before I get too old. I’m proud to say I’ll be coming home with more knowledge than I had when I came here, and a little tanner too (:

This experience has been amazing. I was fully immersed in a culture I knew nothing about, and although my naiveté was frustrating at times, I think it helped me learn a lot more than I thought I would. I like learning new things, and I like knowing that there’s still a lot I have to learn. I’m excited to get home and exchange stories with everyone, and I’m even more excited to travel to other places in the future. Being here has opened my eyes to what else is out here in the real world and made me realize that I want to do everything. It’s a great feeling, and it’s a feeling I hope I never lose. I’ll come home, and I’ll turn my phone on and return all the calls and texts and catch up on my Grey’s Anatomy and update my Facebook status and complain when my parents ask me to do things. In some aspects, I’ll be returning to my reality the same teenager I was when I left. But in so many more important ways, I’m coming home changed because my curiosity has been provoked. I want to do everything, I’ve awakened a sleeping monster.

The ten of us really worked famously together. I’m going to miss waking up to nine of the best people I know everyday. There’s a lot I’m going to miss about this trip; I already miss the elephants. Regardless, I’m looking forward to hugging my parents and sleeping in my bed. Dad and Franice: I’m requesting pizza and Velveeta mac-and-cheese for dinner when I get home (: Now to prepare myself for 40 hours of traveling… At least we still have one more day in Thailand!

It is our final full day at the guesthouse. We leave for Accra tomorrow at about 1:00PM (8:00AM Westtown time). Everyone is in the middle of packing their suitcases for the trip, since we will be staying in a hotel in Accra overnight tomorrow to wake up early (around 6:00AM). If we waited the extra night, we would actually end up having to leave here at 2:00AM to make it on time, and no one wants to do that.
It is a sad time for us. We get to go to Heritage tomorrow for about two hours to say goodbye to the kids, and most have told us they will show up even though it is a holiday for most of the other schools around (sounds like Westtown…). We all wish we could stay for at least another week, even two if possible. We hear fewer calls of “Obronyi” and more and more of our names. The kids all know us now, and we have gotten to know them.
We finally have internet here at the guesthouse, although it relies on access through phones. There is still no running water, but we are all saddened by the fact that tonight’s bucket showers are the last we will take here.
I realize that I have gotten very far behind, so here is as quick summary of the past week as I can give:
Last Saturday we went to Kakum National Forest. Kwesi assured us that the drive was around 30 minutes, 45 minutes at most. The drive actually took two hours, so we joked that it was actually 30 minutes in Kwesi time. There are two time systems in Ghana. Ghana time (between 10 and 15 minutes behind actual time) and Kwesi time.
Kakum has seven bridges made of rope, each about 200 feet off the forest floor. We then went to Elmina, where we visited the slave outpost St. George Castle. This is both the oldest (around 500 years) and the largest (it held up to 1000 slaves) in Western Africa. It first belonged to the Portuguese, was taken over by the Dutch, and eventually bought by the British. After visiting the castle, we drove to Cape Coast to do some shopping and price-scouting before driving back home.
Last Sunday, when I wrote the previous post, we went to Mr. DeGraft’s church in the morning. There was a great deal of singing and dancing before Mr. DeGraft began his sermon, which held a very powerful message even when heard through an interpreter. Later on Sunday we intended to go to a semi-pro football match in which Osman, one of the teachers at Ochiso Heritage Academy, was playing, but got delayed at the Internet Cafe. We got to the game just as it ended, with Osman’s team winning the game.
Monday through Friday were once again focused on teaching. Harrison and I taught J2A conversion between Fractions, decimals, and percentages, and we even began intro-algebra by the end of the week. With J1A, we struggled a bit more, but we ended up making sure that they could multiply two three-digit numbers without too much difficulty. One of my most rewarding moments of teaching these kids was when a student came to me after class and thanked me for helping him learn the methods. We do our best, but we aren’t really teachers. When a student thanks us for what we have done, it gives us at least a moment of certainty that we have made a difference.
Reading groups can be difficult sometimes. The range of skill varies a great deal, even among a single class. We try our best to keep the group moving forward, but in the end, T. Michael would meet with some of the students who were having the greatest difficulty so that we could continue with the others. A few students stand out, in that they go beyond what is asked of them. One girl in my reading group was especially good at translating english words into Fante in order to help others out.
On Monday afternoon, we turned over the cinderblocks from the first week, and then moved into the library. We reorganized the library completely, and it certainly looks better now. There are some books that are far above the reading level or interest of students here, and even above some back in the US.
On Tuesday afternoon, the last class period was an hour and a half long. We end when one of the prefects sounds a drum, but no one did. T. Michael usually finds a prefect if the timing gets too far off, but he was busy all day helping with one of us who was feeling sick. By the time the period ended, we had about half an hour back at the house to rest before heading back to Heritage to make cinderblocks. By the time we got there, it began raining and we couldn’t make them. It was a rather frustrating afternoon, but we walked into Ajumako after the rain stopped. The town of Ajumako isn’t huge, and there is a shortcut that goes though the University of Ajumako campus and lets us avoid “Death Corner.” We enjoy walking in Ajumako because there is a high likelihood that a Heritage student will recognize us on the street and take us around to show us more of the town. Each time (this happened three times) a student led us to his or her home to introduce us to his or her family.
Tuesday night, we went to the University to watch the Chelsea-ManU football match. Chelsea is a hugely popular team here because Michael Essien is from Ghana. Chelsea won, prompting a rather loud celebration afterwards. We also had some other Americans from the Philly area visit. They work with an organization called “Hope for Future Generations.” They are here doing something similar to what we are: teaching in schools, but also teaching health awareness and empowerment to younger women.
On Wednesday, we made more cinderblocks. The workers who had helped us before with the mixing of sand, water, and cement, were not there, so we had to guess. The first batch didn’t turn out great, but we figured out what we were doing for the second batch.
Thursday afternoon, we visited the woodshop in a town whose name sounded like “cocoa bean.” Last year, Katie and Laura apprenticed at this place and learned to make unity figures. We were then supposed to go to a Heritage football match, but it was cancelled because the public teachers went on strike. They still are today, as far as we know. Instead, Heritage held a scrimmage against a town team from Ajumako, which Harrison, Will, and I got to play in. Heritage won, even though the other team was both older and bigger.
On Friday we began the sad process of our last classes with the students. We each took pictures of our reading groups and classes. Harrison and I played trashketball with J2A, and they picked the team names Blessing, Exponent, Queen Harrison, and Princess Daniel. We laughed a great deal about it.Clara, who graduated from Westtown two years ago and also came to Ghana on her Senior Project, visited us. She was working with another organization and was staying in Cape Coast.
Friday night, everyone went for a walk in Ajumako. We met Georgina (a Heritage student) and she took us to meet her mother. On our way back to the main road, the power went out, and all we could see were the stars. It was an incredible sight, something that we could never see at home from all of the lights in West Chester and Philadelphia.
Yesterday, we went to Cape Coast to shop, and then went to Coconut Grove Resort. It was incredibly strange having running water and swimming in a pool, but we had a great time.
Today, we had a late start and went to go watch March-pass, or 6 March. It is Ghana’s Independence celebration, and all of the schools usually have students march in the various towns. This year however, with the teachers’ strike, very few schools participated.
We finally got our clothes back from the tailors, and they are both hilarious and awesome. Patrick got a matching shirt/pants set of Ghanaian fabric, and it is quite an amazing outfit.
It is hard to put the rest into words. So many things have happened that it is impossible to remember them all. The days seem to blur. One moment we are teaching classes, the next we are playing football or volleyball with the students or walking through town at night. There are so many pictures that we would love to share, but they will have to wait until we get back.

This may be my last message here, so “medase,” thank you to all of our friends in Ghana. We hope to see you again, whether here in Ghana or elsewhere in the world.
Daniel

I just re-watched one of my favorite movies this past weekend, Almost Famous.  For those who haven’t seen it, it’s directed by Cameron Crowe and it’s the semi-autobiographical tale of William, a high school senior who skips out on school to write an article for Rolling Stone.  His assignment is to go on tour with Stillwater, an up-and-coming (fictional) band headlining their first tour.  At the end of the tour, he must produce an article that gives the world the “real” picture of Stillwater.  While William struggles to make sense of what is real and what is false, he encounters and becomes fond of many memorable people such as groupie Penny Lane and lead guitarist and total heartthrob Russell Hammond.  When it comes time for William to write the article, a band member pleads with him to “just make us look cool.”  I won’t spoil the ending, but the article William writes delves much deeper than the disillusionment of a young fan getting to know the “real” side of his favorite new band.  Rent it.

 I feel a sort of kinship with William.  My time at WXPN has not brought upon me even slight disillusionment about the music industry; what I’ve encountered I have not been overly surprised by.  I’m a fan, yes, but more so, I love interesting people.  And musicians and groupies and managers are really just as fun as one would think (and, honestly, just as crazy).  But I already knew all of that, and so did William.  Although I’m not getting to know these bands on highly personal levels or writing articles for Rolling Stone, I am getting exposed to the “real” side of a touring band, behind the performances and meet-and-greets.  I feel as though I have been catapulted into a world full of adults behaving badly, but I’m enjoying it immensely. 

“So there I am, topless.  I hopped the fence to the V.I.P. camping section and I stumbled upon MGMT.  But I didn’t know it was them.  It was just when they were getting big, and there were like a million people around them.  And then I sat down and talked to them, I don’t really remember it well, but the editor of Rolling Stone was there.  And they were like, ‘That’s the editor of Rolling Stone!  You’re topless in front of the editor of Rolling Stone!’ And then I was like, ‘Can I have an internship?’  As you can probably guess, I did not get an internship.  Yeah, I used to be pretty crazy,” said my 23-year-old co-worker (let’s call her Bonnie).  She was reminiscing about her “groupie” stage (her words, not mine) and I was all ears.   Bobby Long, a British folksinger who was playing a Free at Noon concert, is one of Bonnie’s favorite musicians.  We both jumped at the chance to set up for the concert.  As we were making coffee for Bobby and his band she was telling me about all the other bands she’s had encounters with (the list is really quite long: Of Montreal, Raphael Saadiq, ?uestlove, etc.).

When Bobby finally came in, we were both struck by how pale and sick he looked.   He went straight to the Green Room as his band mates set up their instruments.  He eventually emerged onto the stage and ordered a Bloody Mary from the bar. 

“Man, it’s so early in the morning.  We just came back from New York and we were out pretty late.  So I’m tired and really hung over,” he said to Bonnie and me, trying to explain why he was drinking at 10:30 am.  The repetitive and irritating noise of the sound check seemed to be worsening whatever he was feeling.  “Are you girls tired?”

“Yes,” I said, right as Bonnie answered “no”.  We looked at each other and exchanged a smile. 

“New York is wild,” he said wistfully, in his Liverpudlian accent.  We left, giggling to each other. We continued to set up for the show until 11:30, when the concertgoers started piling in.  The show began promptly at noon with the host Helen introducing Bobby and his band.  The Free at Noons get broadcast live on the radio, and the whole thing takes about 40 minutes.  Bonnie and I had grabbed the camera from our bosses’ desk and snapped some shots of him playing. 

“I just threw up in the bathroom a couple minutes ago,” he admitted to the audience, live on air.  There was general discomfort in the crowd as no one laughed at his quasi-jokes.  Most of the concert-goers were affluent, middle-aged WXPN members, not bar-going college kids.  The uneasiness lasted the entire set, but I still enjoyed the brooding, alt-country folk and the audience eventually let go and started swaying along.

It’s funny to see what goes into a live act.  It’s easy to assume the musician is thrilled to be doing what they love and playing live music, but it’s so much more.  Bobby was griping onstage about the lack of freedom afforded to him by his record label, but after the set he went into the Green Room and strummed his guitar a bit, singing to himself in a trance.  It’s clear he loves music, but it’s also clear that he’s tired of being forced to perform at certain times, in certain places.  He wants to be cool and relevant, and the older crowd at the concert was not impressive to him.  They didn’t matter because they weren’t laughing at his jokes.

He’s in that awkward stage of almost fame; he’s not famous or important enough to have artistic freedom and visionary direction, but he’s starting to outgrow his small fan base and support system.  The frustration is what’s captured in Almost Famous; it’s the frustration of dealing with one’s self-imposed limitations. 

Bonnie and I went backstage after the show to escort Bobby to his meet-and-greet.  We were instructed to cut it off after 10 minutes.  Some middle-aged women and the occasional teen girl came to get the set-list or a CD signed, and everyone eventually wandered out.  Bobby and his band went back to the Green Room to pass time before that night’s show.  I could see the stress of this lifestyle in his eyes, and I almost felt a little sorry for him.  He probably won’t ever hit it big.  He’ll gain some more fans and release a second album, but he’s not that innovative or imaginative.  He is cool, but coolness doesn’t last forever.  Eventually it will taper off.  Whatever buzz he has surrounding him can only last so long, until he actually has to make something of himself.  Which, I hate to say, probably won’t happen – it rarely does.  So I smiled at him as he drank his Bloody Mary, watching him fill the time until he has to grow up.

I am slowly realizing that my time here is almost over. Monday night we will be flying across the Atlantic Ocean, and landing back home. I must admit that I am looking forward to being home. This trip has been beyond wonderful and I have learned so much about this place and about myself, but it is down right physically and emotionally exhausting.  Everyday we are constantly moving from one place to another, getting different perspectives, and trying to make some sense of what we are hearing and seeing. This is one of those trips that you don’t want to go on forever.  It is just too much.

Even though our days are jammed full, there is so much more that I wish I could do. I went into this trip thinking of it as an introduction, and I still feel the same way. I have no doubt in my mind that I will be back, whether on a vacation or for an extended amount of time, I know that I will see this place again.

We are spending our last night in an intentional community between Israeli Arabs and Jews called Neve Shalom/ Wahat al-Salam (Oasis of Peace).  We got in around six and don’t learn about this place until tomorrow so all I can say now is how beautiful it is. I spent sometime tonight outside of my room and taking in the view. There is a beautiful vista of different towns and cities twinkling in the darkness. As I was looking out I thought about everything that I have seen and done this trip. In my first post I said that I didn’t really understand how my life was going to be changed. Now, I think I am starting to understand. It is very hard to put into words, but I feel as if I see the world more fully. Everything I have ever seen is put into context, everything seems relative to everything else.

Today, we had meeting for worship at Ramallah Monthly Meeting, and someone stood up and said at the end of their message, “Don’t forget about here”. That is, of course, easier than it sounds. I know that I will forget exactly how I felt on this trip, but I hope beyond everything that some little feeling will always be there and remind me that the world is so much greater than me.

John

Hello everyone,

The last couple of days have been really great. My last night at the Trumbullplex for this visit happened to land on a great hip hop show. The first act was a classical piano and the second was a sludge band but the last three was really good hip hop. The whole show was a benefit for Bradley Manning. He is an openly gay man in the military who leaked tons of documents to Wikileaks. After only a few hours of sleep I went with a collective member to eastern market; the world’s biggest and best indoor farmers market. It happens every Saturday and there is nothing quite like it.

I got picked up by Greg for the move to Brother Nature Produce. I met two local high school girls who have applied to all Ivies but they drove out of the suburbs to the farm to try to “do something that’s not for a college application.” It was funny to hear their view-point. Two suburban girls who had never really been in Detroit farming for the first time, in a city. After they left Greg and I did a little bit more farming and showed me around his house. I crashed in my new room (which has a BED!!) for a couple of hours. I got up from my nap and made dinner with Greg. I accidentally touched my eye after cutting some Habanero peppers and Greg whipped up a citrus concoction to wash out my eye to stop the burning. As I hung out with a paper towel soaked in OJ Greg told me stories of getting pepper sprayed as a younger activist at marches and demonstrations.

Tomorrow we’ll be working bright and early and I’m going to head back to the Trumbullplex around 12 to help out with a theater work day.

Peace,

Henry

It’s amazing how fast my second week of interning at the SSB went by.  On Monday, I was once again working in the general assembly area, this time rebuilding a pneumatic suspension system that automatically compensates for the weight of extra passengers.  Tuesday was spent in the wheels and transmissions area, where there wasn’t a whole lot that I could do, but it was worth it just to talk with the guys there in German.  On Tuesday I also met Jens, a kid my age who had already been working in the workshop for 6 months, full-time.  He had gone through a Realschule, one of the types of German secondary education, and then completed a three-year apprenticeship/technical training program at the SSB, some of which looked similar to the things I’ll be doing in college next year. For Wednesday morning, I was assigned to the special vehicles department, and ended up turning the brakes on an electric locomotive on and off for two hours as they tried to discover a pressure leak.  Tons of fun.  The afternoon though, I spent in the deconstruction/demolition area, which I though was great fun.  My task was this: unbolt old chairs from rusty old subway cars, and pitch them into a dumpster.

On Thursday, I was assigned to the body shop area, where the entire day’s workload consisted of swapping out one panel. “Easy,” Michael, the guy I was working with assured me.  As 11:00 am came and went, it was looking less and less easy.  After multiple cuts and measurements, we finally got it into place, and spent the rest of the day hanging around with the guys from the general repair area.  It felt really nice be so well-integrated with a group of guys who I had been working with for only two weeks.  Unfortunately, it was my last day in the main workshop, as the next day, I learned while talking with my internship coordinator, Christian, I would be in the driver training school for Friday, my final day.

On Friday, I arrived at the driver training school, not really knowing what to expect.  After listening to a brief lecture from the instructor on what to do about suspicious packages found in the U-bahn cars, we (myself and two actual trainees) headed out to a train.  As we walked to the cab, the instructor waved me forward to the seat, and gave me a short guide to how to drive an U-bahn.  I then got to drive around the complex for a little while, and then headed out on the active line.  It was pretty amazing, to say the least.  It was a fitting end to an awesome internship, actually experiencing what the people in the workshop have been working to produce.

I am very grateful to all of those who helped make this project a success, especially Christian, Marcella, Stephan, Valentin, and Franziska!  now off to Hamburg!