Hello, my little monkeys.
(Speaking of which, we are sad to report that we have seen no more monkeys. More on that later.)
We said goodbye to University Basic Schools on Friday, which was an incredibly sad ordeal of course. Previously, on Wednesday, the Headmistress announced our departure plans to the school assembly, and I was asked to share a few words (mostly sad ones). We also toured the Junior High classes we were teaching in to say goodbye. (Also sad.) On Friday we again were bid farewell to in front of the Primary Assembly (the little kids… oh so cute), and we were given some beautiful gifts from the administration. Kaylee received a set of earrings, necklace and bracelet which were crafted in traditional glass beads. We both received lovely Kente cloths. We will miss this place.
We were then taken by our host Ms. Fortune to her seamstress and tailor. She had purchased some beautiful traditional fabrics to make us clothes. Kaylee and I were both fitted for them: she is receiving an African style dress, and I am getting a tunic-like shirt. They will be matching too! (Gross.)
Now for the fun stuff! Our good friend and favorite server from our neighborhood haunt, Timothy, joined us on a trip to Cape Coast. We made arrangements to meet at 5:00am so that we could depart early and have gobs of time to enjoy ourselves. We would meet at the restaurant and then travel to the bus station. Kaylee and I were eight minutes late at the restaurant, and we felt terrible because Timothy was quite adamant about the 5:00 departure.
5:15 rolls around. Still no Tim.
Then 5:30. I call to see what the problem is, and Tim assures us he is on his way.
5:45.
6:00. Finally 6:10 and Tim shows up. Apparently there was some early morning traffic, and he did not get home early from work the night before. As much as Kaylee wished to strangle him, as she missed out on some valuable beauty sleep, I was able to subdue her and we got on our way.
After a trip down to the city center transit station, we hopped in a large van bound for Cape Coast. The trip took about two hours, and we finally got our wish to see the landscape outside the city. It was incredible. Rolling hills, lush foliage, the ocean. Amazing.
We arrived at Cape Coast, which is a beautiful little city and much cleaner than Accra. We took a cab immediately to Kakum National Park, essentially the purpose of our entire adventure. We didn’t know this yet, but the high price the cabbie was charging was to ensure his presence with us all day long. A blessing in disguise.
Kakum was magnificent. We joined a group of obronis that were ready to depart for the “Canopy Walkway.” This elaborate system of suspended rope bridges is located over a hundred feet off the rainforest floor. Did I mention we were in a rainforest? A real one? It was awesome. The view from the bridges was enough to invoke the acrophobia which Kaylee inherited from her father. I was fine. Thanks mom! We saw a myriad of butterflies and armies of ants marching up and down the trees. Oh man, the trees. We were suspended only halfway up their massive trunks, and I still felt a mile high. We will post pictures: don’t worry!
Alas, the voices of our party frightened away all hopes of seeing a monkey. Bastards.
After this we left Kakum to find a bite to eat. We stopped at a somewhat-touristy spot that featured a crocodile lagoon. We got out of the cab and our friend Tim immediately recognized a server there. Apparently they worked together at another restaurant. This man led us down a path behind the buildings to “see a crocodile.” We saw two in the water right beside us (no fences by the way), and much to our surprise, a massive male just sitting on the path ahead of us. Our new-found tour guide showed no signs of stopping.
“What are we doing?”
“We’re going to see the crocodile.”
“Oh my gosh.”
We walked right up to this guy. Touched, poked, petted. He just laid there, and we were assured that he would not move a muscle. I was certain that I was moments from digestion.
Yup. Kaylee and I manhandled a man eater. No cage, no trainer, no hope for survival. Something tells me you wouldn’t find a similar place in the U.S.
We then scarfed down a sub-par meal and continued on our journey. Our last stop would be the famous Cape Coast castle, a noted slave port during the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade. This castle, very well preserved (down to the piles of cannonballs everywhere), was full of other tourists and guides explaining the various purposes of the rooms we were in. We toured the male slave dungeon (creepy, to say the least) and the main courtyard. Again, I can’t wait to show you pictures of this.
The view of the ocean was spectacular. Amazing how a place built to house such evil could look so incredible.
We took a cab back to the terminal we arrived in, just to learn that the bus we would be taking was full. This was particularly sad because it was a much nicer bus than what we arrived in. So we hopped over to another terminal to board a rickety bus. At that moment, Tim realized he no longer had his cell phone. He would have to join us back in Accra while he tried to get his phone back. Yay. Traveling alone on a rickety bus next to strangers where we don’t know how the stops work. Perfect.
After a LONG trip back due to traffic and frequent stops, we arrived at the “end of the line,” where we were forced off the bus. Timothy told us that we would find ourselves at a busy market, where we should wait for him. That’s great, because we’ve had excellent practice in waiting for Timothy. 45 minutes later, Tim shows up and we take a cab back home.
This was one packed day, full of excitement, and my legs are still sore this morning after our hike through the rainforest. Pictures are coming as soon as we get back home. Kaylee and I would have felt so cheated if we didn’t get to have an experience like this. How can you say you’ve been to Africa if you never left the megacity you arrived in? Unacceptable. We like adventure! And I think we definitely had one.
Praise God for Timothy coming with us: it would have been a difficult journey by ourselves.
Today we pack and depart. Pray for safe travel and REST on the plane. Thanks for everything you’ve done while we were here!
Much love,
The Freemans
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Homeward Bound
Greetings, dear readers.
If the title didn’t make it clear, Kaylee and I are returning home. The ultimatum that we mentioned earlier did not pan out in our favor. There is no option to remain here that is logistically possible: we had the perfect situation at University Basic. Because we can no longer remain there, we simply cannot afford a different venue; nor does my wife feel safe heading out on her own.
Trying to explain all this to GST is like banging our head against a wall. Instead of looking at our perspective in a logical manner, they seem to believe that we are stubborn little kids who refuse to comply with their “options.”
We just want to stay here. We just want to teach! Is that so much to ask?!
Unfortunately, we must keep our cool as we are still being placed through the GST program in Las Vegas to complete our student teaching experience. If one more thing falls through, or if I get one more condescending e-mail from these twerps, I’m recruiting an army and we are marching to Morris. Torches and pitchforks in hand.
We made it one month: we leave here Sunday evening.
God showed us this place for a reason.
If the title didn’t make it clear, Kaylee and I are returning home. The ultimatum that we mentioned earlier did not pan out in our favor. There is no option to remain here that is logistically possible: we had the perfect situation at University Basic. Because we can no longer remain there, we simply cannot afford a different venue; nor does my wife feel safe heading out on her own.
Trying to explain all this to GST is like banging our head against a wall. Instead of looking at our perspective in a logical manner, they seem to believe that we are stubborn little kids who refuse to comply with their “options.”
We just want to stay here. We just want to teach! Is that so much to ask?!
Unfortunately, we must keep our cool as we are still being placed through the GST program in Las Vegas to complete our student teaching experience. If one more thing falls through, or if I get one more condescending e-mail from these twerps, I’m recruiting an army and we are marching to Morris. Torches and pitchforks in hand.
We made it one month: we leave here Sunday evening.
God showed us this place for a reason.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
The First Lady’s Undies (Maybe), a Giant, and an Ultimatum
Hello, dear readers.
We agree that it has been far too long, but at the end of the work day we are just too pooped to stroke the keyboard. My arms are particularly tired from beating kids all day. Kaylee can hardly speak from all the verbal abuse she dishes out. Suffice to say, these kids suck the life out of us! (Only 75% of this paragraph is made up!)
Now to today’s business (to quote our dear friend Mr. Owusu). It has been one helluva week. We find that, by the time the weekend rolls around, we are exhausted. So we spend our weekends doing awesome things like writing lesson plans, taking naps, and reading our textbooks. Jealous? We’re quite the social butterflies.
But seriously. We are pretty tired because the art of teaching here requires a loud voice and a lot of charisma. Sometimes when we get particularly animated in our efforts to control the class, a student sometimes leaves the room, finds a suitable-sized stick, and hands it to us. “Use it!” they tell us. We of course choose our victims carefully, and the beatings only last about four minutes before the kid passes out. Usually the kids wait at least twenty-four hours before trying another disruption.
In all honesty, my classroom management strategy utilizes the “hippie” approach. “All I want is love and understanding, guys.” or “There are no disruptions in my class. They just don’t exist.” These are the phrases I employ to get the kids to “feel” the quietness I seek. My wife’s strategy involves self-victimization, or putting tally marks on the board in an effort to get the kids to visualize their naughtiness. (Enough tally marks and the fun is over. I have yet to see this actually happen.) Compared to the management of other “seasoned professionals” at this establishment, our methods totally blow. Next time they hand us the stick, I think we might … well, think about it. (At the very least, visualize it in our minds and then describe it to the class)
We saw a monkey!
Moving on. On Friday there was a birthday celebrated by one of our coworkers. You can imagine our surprise when we saw the case of Guinness rolled in, coupled with more than one bottle of cheap Champagne and sangria. They also had some excellent grilled chicken, among their other not-so-excellent local cuisine choices. They almost literally forced these items down our throats, alcohol included. Keep in mind that school is currently in session, and kids quite frequently wander in to ask questions or collect their graded coursework. T.I.A. applies here.
Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering about the undies. Today we were invited to attend a church fellowship gathering following the service. After a lurching hour-long voyage in Professor Dodoo’s suspension-free sedan, we arrived at his home, where we spent our first night in the country. The gathering would take place next door, at the home of a man we met at a similar gathering a couple weeks ago. As he took us to tour his grounds, he indicated that the private residence of President Mills (yes, President of Ghana) is right next door. They share a wall. In fact, it happens to be his brother-in-law. This could also explain why he drives a very nice Lexus. (I am told that it has suspension!)
We enjoyed a wonderful time at this gathering. Never once have we felt unwelcome at any gathering. The food was excellent, and we laughed almost too much. The meal kicked off with an unbelievable beef soup: the best local cuisine we have sampled thus far. After everyone finished we were led to a buffet table that was loaded with the following fare: three kinds of nicely seasoned rice, chicken and fish, yams in some kind of spicy stew, beef and olive kabobs, a variety of cold salads, and our personal favorite- the fried plantains. We also received strawberry ice cream for dessert. Ha-mi-na, ha-mi-na, ha-mi-na! (sp?)
On that note (and I mean the ha-mi-na, ha-mi-na, ha-mi-na note… sp?), we met a man from Nigeria at the party, who happened to be named Austin. And he also happened to be a giant. (Don’t worry, he was a friendly giant. Perhaps even jolly.) When we were introduced my hand literally disappeared into his. He spoke like James Earl Jones, and happened to be very funny. We hope to see more of this guy (or giant) in the future.
By the way, he says that he finds basketball utterly boring. This amazed me, as I thought all giant Nigerians loved basketball. He says that he prefers knitting, and I could tell because of the snappy cardigan he was sporting. (Again, only 75% of this paragraph is made up.)
Oh yeah! Back to the undies. The homeowner (whose name is ALMOST Professor Ghandalf, but instead its Gyandolf… that would have been AWESOME) has a balcony above the veranda, and Kaylee and I went up there to look around after the meal. Much to our surprise we saw a lady hanging up the President’s laundry. We snapped more than one picture of what must be the First Lady’s undies. (Or perhaps that’s how the President rolls) Who among you can make such a claim? The undergarments of a Head of State?! I think not.
Now to the not-so-fun part. The ultimatum. We honestly thought we were past all this, but it seems the Global Student Teaching program is out for blood. It seems that Kaylee needs to be transferred to a high school institution, as teaching junior high will not meet her requirements. (Funny, they should have known her requirements before they placed her, as we sent all of our transcripts long before we arrived) We have been pleading with the program director to allow her to stay, because a transfer would not only detract from our feelings of security (the men are VERY forward with my wife), but would add a considerable dollar amount to our transportation budget. Therefore we have been in some pretty thick negotiations with the goal of transferring at the end of March so that she can still meet her requirements, and because we both have to transfer at this time anyway: the term at University Basic JHS ends due to a statewide examination and Easter break.
The ultimatum we received from GST was this: either accommodate the transfer, or come back to the U.S. to finish our student teaching there. We must decline this ultimatum for reasons of budget and time. This was their fault in the first place, and now they’re expecting to force my wife into a potentially unsafe situation and increase our budget to a point that we simply cannot afford.
Our e-mails have been so accommodating and professional, but GST has simply denied all fault and reason while telling us to “bite the bullet.” We have sent one last “hail Mary” to the director in an effort to remain where we are. If she says “no,” we are coming home to pursue legal action. If some of you still don’t understand everything that is going on, please ask our parents or let us know so that we can send a detailed message. I don’t think it’s too professional to put EVERYTHING in the public domain. And believe us, there’s even more.
Are we still having fun? Absolutely. Little ventures like tonight’s party make certain of that. In fact, we might pop in “Surf’s Up” for the third time since we got our DVD player working again. WOO HOO!
Much love to all of you,
The Freemans
We agree that it has been far too long, but at the end of the work day we are just too pooped to stroke the keyboard. My arms are particularly tired from beating kids all day. Kaylee can hardly speak from all the verbal abuse she dishes out. Suffice to say, these kids suck the life out of us! (Only 75% of this paragraph is made up!)
Now to today’s business (to quote our dear friend Mr. Owusu). It has been one helluva week. We find that, by the time the weekend rolls around, we are exhausted. So we spend our weekends doing awesome things like writing lesson plans, taking naps, and reading our textbooks. Jealous? We’re quite the social butterflies.
But seriously. We are pretty tired because the art of teaching here requires a loud voice and a lot of charisma. Sometimes when we get particularly animated in our efforts to control the class, a student sometimes leaves the room, finds a suitable-sized stick, and hands it to us. “Use it!” they tell us. We of course choose our victims carefully, and the beatings only last about four minutes before the kid passes out. Usually the kids wait at least twenty-four hours before trying another disruption.
In all honesty, my classroom management strategy utilizes the “hippie” approach. “All I want is love and understanding, guys.” or “There are no disruptions in my class. They just don’t exist.” These are the phrases I employ to get the kids to “feel” the quietness I seek. My wife’s strategy involves self-victimization, or putting tally marks on the board in an effort to get the kids to visualize their naughtiness. (Enough tally marks and the fun is over. I have yet to see this actually happen.) Compared to the management of other “seasoned professionals” at this establishment, our methods totally blow. Next time they hand us the stick, I think we might … well, think about it. (At the very least, visualize it in our minds and then describe it to the class)
We saw a monkey!
Moving on. On Friday there was a birthday celebrated by one of our coworkers. You can imagine our surprise when we saw the case of Guinness rolled in, coupled with more than one bottle of cheap Champagne and sangria. They also had some excellent grilled chicken, among their other not-so-excellent local cuisine choices. They almost literally forced these items down our throats, alcohol included. Keep in mind that school is currently in session, and kids quite frequently wander in to ask questions or collect their graded coursework. T.I.A. applies here.
Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering about the undies. Today we were invited to attend a church fellowship gathering following the service. After a lurching hour-long voyage in Professor Dodoo’s suspension-free sedan, we arrived at his home, where we spent our first night in the country. The gathering would take place next door, at the home of a man we met at a similar gathering a couple weeks ago. As he took us to tour his grounds, he indicated that the private residence of President Mills (yes, President of Ghana) is right next door. They share a wall. In fact, it happens to be his brother-in-law. This could also explain why he drives a very nice Lexus. (I am told that it has suspension!)
We enjoyed a wonderful time at this gathering. Never once have we felt unwelcome at any gathering. The food was excellent, and we laughed almost too much. The meal kicked off with an unbelievable beef soup: the best local cuisine we have sampled thus far. After everyone finished we were led to a buffet table that was loaded with the following fare: three kinds of nicely seasoned rice, chicken and fish, yams in some kind of spicy stew, beef and olive kabobs, a variety of cold salads, and our personal favorite- the fried plantains. We also received strawberry ice cream for dessert. Ha-mi-na, ha-mi-na, ha-mi-na! (sp?)
On that note (and I mean the ha-mi-na, ha-mi-na, ha-mi-na note… sp?), we met a man from Nigeria at the party, who happened to be named Austin. And he also happened to be a giant. (Don’t worry, he was a friendly giant. Perhaps even jolly.) When we were introduced my hand literally disappeared into his. He spoke like James Earl Jones, and happened to be very funny. We hope to see more of this guy (or giant) in the future.
By the way, he says that he finds basketball utterly boring. This amazed me, as I thought all giant Nigerians loved basketball. He says that he prefers knitting, and I could tell because of the snappy cardigan he was sporting. (Again, only 75% of this paragraph is made up.)
Oh yeah! Back to the undies. The homeowner (whose name is ALMOST Professor Ghandalf, but instead its Gyandolf… that would have been AWESOME) has a balcony above the veranda, and Kaylee and I went up there to look around after the meal. Much to our surprise we saw a lady hanging up the President’s laundry. We snapped more than one picture of what must be the First Lady’s undies. (Or perhaps that’s how the President rolls) Who among you can make such a claim? The undergarments of a Head of State?! I think not.
Now to the not-so-fun part. The ultimatum. We honestly thought we were past all this, but it seems the Global Student Teaching program is out for blood. It seems that Kaylee needs to be transferred to a high school institution, as teaching junior high will not meet her requirements. (Funny, they should have known her requirements before they placed her, as we sent all of our transcripts long before we arrived) We have been pleading with the program director to allow her to stay, because a transfer would not only detract from our feelings of security (the men are VERY forward with my wife), but would add a considerable dollar amount to our transportation budget. Therefore we have been in some pretty thick negotiations with the goal of transferring at the end of March so that she can still meet her requirements, and because we both have to transfer at this time anyway: the term at University Basic JHS ends due to a statewide examination and Easter break.
The ultimatum we received from GST was this: either accommodate the transfer, or come back to the U.S. to finish our student teaching there. We must decline this ultimatum for reasons of budget and time. This was their fault in the first place, and now they’re expecting to force my wife into a potentially unsafe situation and increase our budget to a point that we simply cannot afford.
Our e-mails have been so accommodating and professional, but GST has simply denied all fault and reason while telling us to “bite the bullet.” We have sent one last “hail Mary” to the director in an effort to remain where we are. If she says “no,” we are coming home to pursue legal action. If some of you still don’t understand everything that is going on, please ask our parents or let us know so that we can send a detailed message. I don’t think it’s too professional to put EVERYTHING in the public domain. And believe us, there’s even more.
Are we still having fun? Absolutely. Little ventures like tonight’s party make certain of that. In fact, we might pop in “Surf’s Up” for the third time since we got our DVD player working again. WOO HOO!
Much love to all of you,
The Freemans
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Chicken and Rice
Chicken and Rice
It’s what we have for supper. Every night. Granted, it’s good chicken and rice. We buy the chicken from a little cold store just a block away, and I marinate it in peri-peri sauce, pineapple juice (courtesy of your friends at Minute Maid), onions and tomatoes. It’s tasty, and that’s a good thing, because I don’t really have a lot of options in terms of “switching it up.” Unless I want to change proteins and add hot dogs soaked in brine. They come in a can, and they look disgusting.
Moving right along.
We taught our first lessons at school this week. It really went well. These kids are brilliant, especially when it comes to recall memory. I am amazed every day at how they can recite, verbatim, definitions from their readings, or even from a previous lecture. They can be a little rowdy, especially if something even remotely funny happens. But that’s what happens in a room full of fifty-five young teenagers. However, if you catch them on a good day, they will amaze you.
For one of Kaylee’s lessons last week, we brought in her laptop so that I could read a letter her sister wrote to the class. It was really nothing spectacular to us. But the kids just loved it. And her mentor teacher, Mr. Owusu, spent about five minutes after we were done thanking us (and making the kids thank us too… Mr. Owusu is quite a guy. More on him later). After the letter, nearly everyone in the class asked for Sydney’s contact information. Syd, you’re bound to get some Facebook friend requests.
So Mr. Owusu. I’m honestly not quite sure what holds this guy together. I think it might be his clothes, actually. He can’t weigh more than 90 pounds. He is always so happy to see Kaylee, and anytime he is not in class, he is smiling ear to ear. That being said, we think he has an alter ego, ‘cause that man disappears when he steps in front of students.
(In a mean voice)
“You are confused. Your head is not in the room.”
“This is your one warning!”
“You didn’t go during break?! Sit down! You lazy, lazy boy!”
This guy was honestly upset when corporal punishment was outlawed. It suited him so well. I cannot begin to describe the joy it brings me to watch this incredible transformation take place every day. No wonder Kaylee’s students love her so much.
I am fortunate to have two mentor teachers: Mr. Eman, and Mr. Ben. Neither one have the striking characteristics of Mr. Owusu (literally), but they are enjoyable and endearing men all the same. Mr. Ben is more like the “social studies,” black-sheep kind of guy that I enjoy. Eman is a little more “up tight.” (He does like Eminem, however. And the guy wears some tight polo shirts, by the way… he is a bigger guy.) The kids enjoy both of them, and I enjoy teaching these classes. All I teach is the history of Ghana. Which is a learning experience for me along with the kids. How odd that an obroni is teaching Ghana’s history to native students…
Oh! And we are staying put here in Ghana. We honestly thought that we would be on the next plane home, thanks to some serious issues we were facing in terms of meeting our student teaching requirements. But it looks like they’ve been ironed out, with the exception of where Kaylee is supposed to be teaching. She might have to be transferred to a high school pretty soon, which would devastate me and our dear friend Mr. Owusu. Hopefully this can be delayed for a while, so that she can gain more experience here while still meeting the requirements. Pray pray pray pray pray.
Our DVD player is not working. And we went to the mall today to watch a movie there, but we were called home because the washing machine leaked everywhere (we were the last to use it, so automatically we were blamed. I don’t get it). Either way, we think God is telling us to play more cards. Gin rummy, here we come.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. We are really enjoying this place. Every day brings something new. And we have decided that the only things that stress us out are the issues involved with our requirements. If it wasn’t for them, we would be care-free. GST, why you gotta bring us down?!
Thank you all for your love and support.
The Freemans
It’s what we have for supper. Every night. Granted, it’s good chicken and rice. We buy the chicken from a little cold store just a block away, and I marinate it in peri-peri sauce, pineapple juice (courtesy of your friends at Minute Maid), onions and tomatoes. It’s tasty, and that’s a good thing, because I don’t really have a lot of options in terms of “switching it up.” Unless I want to change proteins and add hot dogs soaked in brine. They come in a can, and they look disgusting.
Moving right along.
We taught our first lessons at school this week. It really went well. These kids are brilliant, especially when it comes to recall memory. I am amazed every day at how they can recite, verbatim, definitions from their readings, or even from a previous lecture. They can be a little rowdy, especially if something even remotely funny happens. But that’s what happens in a room full of fifty-five young teenagers. However, if you catch them on a good day, they will amaze you.
For one of Kaylee’s lessons last week, we brought in her laptop so that I could read a letter her sister wrote to the class. It was really nothing spectacular to us. But the kids just loved it. And her mentor teacher, Mr. Owusu, spent about five minutes after we were done thanking us (and making the kids thank us too… Mr. Owusu is quite a guy. More on him later). After the letter, nearly everyone in the class asked for Sydney’s contact information. Syd, you’re bound to get some Facebook friend requests.
So Mr. Owusu. I’m honestly not quite sure what holds this guy together. I think it might be his clothes, actually. He can’t weigh more than 90 pounds. He is always so happy to see Kaylee, and anytime he is not in class, he is smiling ear to ear. That being said, we think he has an alter ego, ‘cause that man disappears when he steps in front of students.
(In a mean voice)
“You are confused. Your head is not in the room.”
“This is your one warning!”
“You didn’t go during break?! Sit down! You lazy, lazy boy!”
This guy was honestly upset when corporal punishment was outlawed. It suited him so well. I cannot begin to describe the joy it brings me to watch this incredible transformation take place every day. No wonder Kaylee’s students love her so much.
I am fortunate to have two mentor teachers: Mr. Eman, and Mr. Ben. Neither one have the striking characteristics of Mr. Owusu (literally), but they are enjoyable and endearing men all the same. Mr. Ben is more like the “social studies,” black-sheep kind of guy that I enjoy. Eman is a little more “up tight.” (He does like Eminem, however. And the guy wears some tight polo shirts, by the way… he is a bigger guy.) The kids enjoy both of them, and I enjoy teaching these classes. All I teach is the history of Ghana. Which is a learning experience for me along with the kids. How odd that an obroni is teaching Ghana’s history to native students…
Oh! And we are staying put here in Ghana. We honestly thought that we would be on the next plane home, thanks to some serious issues we were facing in terms of meeting our student teaching requirements. But it looks like they’ve been ironed out, with the exception of where Kaylee is supposed to be teaching. She might have to be transferred to a high school pretty soon, which would devastate me and our dear friend Mr. Owusu. Hopefully this can be delayed for a while, so that she can gain more experience here while still meeting the requirements. Pray pray pray pray pray.
Our DVD player is not working. And we went to the mall today to watch a movie there, but we were called home because the washing machine leaked everywhere (we were the last to use it, so automatically we were blamed. I don’t get it). Either way, we think God is telling us to play more cards. Gin rummy, here we come.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. We are really enjoying this place. Every day brings something new. And we have decided that the only things that stress us out are the issues involved with our requirements. If it wasn’t for them, we would be care-free. GST, why you gotta bring us down?!
Thank you all for your love and support.
The Freemans
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Ten Zillion Things
Hello, my little monkeys.
Many exciting and wonderful things have happened since we last wrote. Except Thursday. Nothing really interesting happened on Thursday. But on Friday, big things started happening.
Friday is when we got all our money. YAY! After a week of being held at SMSU (even though we don't have a bill there this semester), it finally got deposited in our account on Friday morning. Much jubilation ensued. Now we have the resources to actually pay for things here.
Back to Thursday. I shouldn't say "nothing" happened, because we did in fact run into another white person. I cannot stress to you how significant that is. Kaylee and I really don't see white people here. This man, named Tony, happens to be from the Netherlands, and he owns a pub here with his Ghanian wife. He invited us to come and hang out at said pub on Friday night. And that's exactly what we did. They make some killer local cuisine, and I got my butt soundly whipped at billiards by the local expert. He kept saying nice things like "you're just not used to the table," and "obroni can't play billiards." I felt better afterwards.
Saturday, after a good night's sleep and a good deal of motivation, we decided to take a cab to the Accra city center. Drawing on the first name that came to mind in terms of the sights we read about in our trusty tourist guide book, I asked to be brought to Mokola market. Of all the places I could have chosen, this was probably the most ... interesting. It was the most congested, rowdy, and somewhat smelly place I've ever seen. Once again, there wasn't another white person in sight. We asked for directions to the shore, just so we could see the horizon and get our bearings. What followed was one of the most incredible and saddening walks we've taken thus far. We traveled through a maze of streets lined with chickens and goats, merchants and beggars selling foodstuffs and oddities (one woman was selling Bic razors). Naked children played and bathed in the streets, and speakers were set up blaring Christian music at uncomfortable volume settings. We worked our way to the ocean, and saw the remains of one of the old British forts that line the coast here. There are still cannons and well-preserved architecture, though none have been professionally restored and there is nothing like a museum: it's left to the environment and beggars to have there way with.
We then hoofed it for what was probably a couple miles up the coast towards Osu, where you can see the parliament and supreme court buildings. Right across the street from these magnificent structures are more of the slums we have already described. During our walk we were approached countless times. We were asked where we were from (which then prompted the question "do we have money"), what we're doing here, if we have been enjoying ourselves, and if we were aware of any jobs. People are very forward, particularly the merchants, and people will do about anything for a quick buck. After touring the aforementioned fort, the guy who "helped" us asked for a dollar, which we gave him. His children wanted money too.
We then took a cab from independence square and the famous arch, past the huge football stadium, ending up at what must be one of the least Ghanian restaurants we could find: Barcelos, a Portugese chicken chain. After our walk and extraordinary encounters, we needed some greasy french fries and air conditioning to purge our minds for a while. The ride home was too long, as our cabbie got lost a couple times, but we were amazed at our experiences.
This morning we were picked up by John (our favorite guy ever) to attend church with him. He belongs to the Legon Interdenominational Church, found on the university campus. We had an hour-long bible study, where we discussed the Holy Spirit with John leading, and then we sat down for what would be a two hour long service. At the beginning of the service, all first time visitors are asked to introduce themselves in front of everyone, so that was exciting. We were also surprised to see several more obroni, as the university is starting classes tomorrow. We are very excited to meet these people!
The worship at this church is incredible. It's a very modern church, so they have an excellent projector and sound system, and a worship team complete with drums, guitars, and an amazing group of singers leading the way. The entire congregation sings with gusto, and the result gave me goosebumps. I think Kaylee and I will enjoy attending here very much during our stay.
Speaking of stay, we find out tomorrow if this school will actually meet the requirements for us to become licensed teachers. Prayers please!
That's probably everything that has happened for now. Each day brings something joyful and exciting. I'm still working at the problem of showing you all our pictures.
Kaylee and I also teach our first lessons tomorrow. We are very excited, and a little nervous that everyone behaves themselves. We will let you know how it goes.
We love and miss you all,
The Freemans
Many exciting and wonderful things have happened since we last wrote. Except Thursday. Nothing really interesting happened on Thursday. But on Friday, big things started happening.
Friday is when we got all our money. YAY! After a week of being held at SMSU (even though we don't have a bill there this semester), it finally got deposited in our account on Friday morning. Much jubilation ensued. Now we have the resources to actually pay for things here.
Back to Thursday. I shouldn't say "nothing" happened, because we did in fact run into another white person. I cannot stress to you how significant that is. Kaylee and I really don't see white people here. This man, named Tony, happens to be from the Netherlands, and he owns a pub here with his Ghanian wife. He invited us to come and hang out at said pub on Friday night. And that's exactly what we did. They make some killer local cuisine, and I got my butt soundly whipped at billiards by the local expert. He kept saying nice things like "you're just not used to the table," and "obroni can't play billiards." I felt better afterwards.
Saturday, after a good night's sleep and a good deal of motivation, we decided to take a cab to the Accra city center. Drawing on the first name that came to mind in terms of the sights we read about in our trusty tourist guide book, I asked to be brought to Mokola market. Of all the places I could have chosen, this was probably the most ... interesting. It was the most congested, rowdy, and somewhat smelly place I've ever seen. Once again, there wasn't another white person in sight. We asked for directions to the shore, just so we could see the horizon and get our bearings. What followed was one of the most incredible and saddening walks we've taken thus far. We traveled through a maze of streets lined with chickens and goats, merchants and beggars selling foodstuffs and oddities (one woman was selling Bic razors). Naked children played and bathed in the streets, and speakers were set up blaring Christian music at uncomfortable volume settings. We worked our way to the ocean, and saw the remains of one of the old British forts that line the coast here. There are still cannons and well-preserved architecture, though none have been professionally restored and there is nothing like a museum: it's left to the environment and beggars to have there way with.
We then hoofed it for what was probably a couple miles up the coast towards Osu, where you can see the parliament and supreme court buildings. Right across the street from these magnificent structures are more of the slums we have already described. During our walk we were approached countless times. We were asked where we were from (which then prompted the question "do we have money"), what we're doing here, if we have been enjoying ourselves, and if we were aware of any jobs. People are very forward, particularly the merchants, and people will do about anything for a quick buck. After touring the aforementioned fort, the guy who "helped" us asked for a dollar, which we gave him. His children wanted money too.
We then took a cab from independence square and the famous arch, past the huge football stadium, ending up at what must be one of the least Ghanian restaurants we could find: Barcelos, a Portugese chicken chain. After our walk and extraordinary encounters, we needed some greasy french fries and air conditioning to purge our minds for a while. The ride home was too long, as our cabbie got lost a couple times, but we were amazed at our experiences.
This morning we were picked up by John (our favorite guy ever) to attend church with him. He belongs to the Legon Interdenominational Church, found on the university campus. We had an hour-long bible study, where we discussed the Holy Spirit with John leading, and then we sat down for what would be a two hour long service. At the beginning of the service, all first time visitors are asked to introduce themselves in front of everyone, so that was exciting. We were also surprised to see several more obroni, as the university is starting classes tomorrow. We are very excited to meet these people!
The worship at this church is incredible. It's a very modern church, so they have an excellent projector and sound system, and a worship team complete with drums, guitars, and an amazing group of singers leading the way. The entire congregation sings with gusto, and the result gave me goosebumps. I think Kaylee and I will enjoy attending here very much during our stay.
Speaking of stay, we find out tomorrow if this school will actually meet the requirements for us to become licensed teachers. Prayers please!
That's probably everything that has happened for now. Each day brings something joyful and exciting. I'm still working at the problem of showing you all our pictures.
Kaylee and I also teach our first lessons tomorrow. We are very excited, and a little nervous that everyone behaves themselves. We will let you know how it goes.
We love and miss you all,
The Freemans
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Our One-Week Anniversary!
So, it seems that the University of Morris Global Student Teaching program was unprepared for a few developments thus far. We are instructed to complete a fifteen-week clinical in order to meet the requirements for our student teaching, and thus be qualified to receive a teaching license. However, we have just been informed (and I mean JUST been informed) that the term is ending three weeks early due to a nationwide standardized test taking place at our school, and the fact that Easter falls a week later this year. Suffice to say, GST is scrambling to find a way to make sure we can meet the time requirements while we're here. Kaylee and I would be rather upset to get off the plane, submit all our materials, and then discover we won't be getting a teaching license because we weren't here long enough. If that happens, you all are coming with to storm the U of M, Morris with torches and pitchforks.
They (GST) are also scrambling to try and find additional work for Kaylee and I to do while we are here. The school system is arranged in a very different way from what we are used to in the States. Kaylee and I are subject teachers, traveling from room to room. GST requires that we teach four, seventy-minute classes per day: but the mentoring teachers we are assigned to only teach eight to twelve classes per week. Nevermind the fact that these classes hold over fifty students each, and the workload rests on only one person in the English department, and two in Social Studies. We feel like we're working hard enough. But again, we want to be sure that GST also thinks we are.
It is our humble opinion that a few of these kinks should have been worked out before University Basic Schools, Legon - Ghana was considered an eligible candidate for the Global Student Teaching licensure program. Or is it just us? :-)
All these things aside, Kaylee and I are still having the time of our lives. The people, the weather, the food, the experiences, everything brings us joy. We're getting darn good at walking around here, and at playing gin rummy in the evenings. I'm getting more bold with my attempts at recreating Ghanian cuisine here at the house (I've almost pefected the fried plaintain, and I cannot wait to share that with you when I get home!).
Further announcements as events warrant! Keep up your very appreciated prayers. We love and miss you all!
Hugs and kisses,
The Freemans
They (GST) are also scrambling to try and find additional work for Kaylee and I to do while we are here. The school system is arranged in a very different way from what we are used to in the States. Kaylee and I are subject teachers, traveling from room to room. GST requires that we teach four, seventy-minute classes per day: but the mentoring teachers we are assigned to only teach eight to twelve classes per week. Nevermind the fact that these classes hold over fifty students each, and the workload rests on only one person in the English department, and two in Social Studies. We feel like we're working hard enough. But again, we want to be sure that GST also thinks we are.
It is our humble opinion that a few of these kinks should have been worked out before University Basic Schools, Legon - Ghana was considered an eligible candidate for the Global Student Teaching licensure program. Or is it just us? :-)
All these things aside, Kaylee and I are still having the time of our lives. The people, the weather, the food, the experiences, everything brings us joy. We're getting darn good at walking around here, and at playing gin rummy in the evenings. I'm getting more bold with my attempts at recreating Ghanian cuisine here at the house (I've almost pefected the fried plaintain, and I cannot wait to share that with you when I get home!).
Further announcements as events warrant! Keep up your very appreciated prayers. We love and miss you all!
Hugs and kisses,
The Freemans
Monday, January 17, 2011
The Ghanian Learning Experience
To our readers who are teachers, or aspiring to be one someday: if we hear you complain about classroom management EVER again, you won't hear the end of it.
Last week being mainly for introductions and preparation, the real teaching at University Basic Schools did not begin until today. Kaylee and I followed our respective mentor teachers around and watched them actually teach for the first time. And WOW: our ears were ringing by the end of the day. It's not that the kids are purposefully obnoxious or mischievous. Most of it is undoubtedly part of the culture here. But to say that kids are vocal during the lesson would be a grand understatement.
Lessons are strictly lecture based, and the teacher often solicits questions to the class during the lecture. Though only one or two students contribute answers to what the teacher is asking, the entire class is erupting in concurrence, or shouting "yes!" or "no!" during the entire lesson. Of course there is also idle chatter going on, and the teacher must "shush" the class about every twenty seconds. Suffice to say, I was exhausted by the end of the first 70 minute period, and I still had one more to go before tea.
Ah, tea. The word brings pictures of tranquility to mind. And I completely understand why they have it. Of course we Americans have our nifty little Starbucks Singles in hand as we "take our tea," but it's still nice to have that break in the morning to grab a snack and a pick-me-up. We were a British colony once. Why did our culture stop "taking tea?"
The Harmattan is beginning to come to a close, so the dust is starting to settle. From our house in West Legon, we can finally see the University clock tower high upon the hill, as well as other distant parts of the city. We haven't seen blue sky or pure sunlight since we got here, and we're very excited for it. On the other hand, this "cool" weather is probably a necessary transition from the frozen tundra / icy barren wasteland we came from. (Sorry readers, but I know you can't feel your toes right now. Be honest.)
Again, we could not do this without all the love and support you are sending our way. Thanks for everything you do. Write back and stay in touch!
Much love,
The Freemans
Last week being mainly for introductions and preparation, the real teaching at University Basic Schools did not begin until today. Kaylee and I followed our respective mentor teachers around and watched them actually teach for the first time. And WOW: our ears were ringing by the end of the day. It's not that the kids are purposefully obnoxious or mischievous. Most of it is undoubtedly part of the culture here. But to say that kids are vocal during the lesson would be a grand understatement.
Lessons are strictly lecture based, and the teacher often solicits questions to the class during the lecture. Though only one or two students contribute answers to what the teacher is asking, the entire class is erupting in concurrence, or shouting "yes!" or "no!" during the entire lesson. Of course there is also idle chatter going on, and the teacher must "shush" the class about every twenty seconds. Suffice to say, I was exhausted by the end of the first 70 minute period, and I still had one more to go before tea.
Ah, tea. The word brings pictures of tranquility to mind. And I completely understand why they have it. Of course we Americans have our nifty little Starbucks Singles in hand as we "take our tea," but it's still nice to have that break in the morning to grab a snack and a pick-me-up. We were a British colony once. Why did our culture stop "taking tea?"
The Harmattan is beginning to come to a close, so the dust is starting to settle. From our house in West Legon, we can finally see the University clock tower high upon the hill, as well as other distant parts of the city. We haven't seen blue sky or pure sunlight since we got here, and we're very excited for it. On the other hand, this "cool" weather is probably a necessary transition from the frozen tundra / icy barren wasteland we came from. (Sorry readers, but I know you can't feel your toes right now. Be honest.)
Again, we could not do this without all the love and support you are sending our way. Thanks for everything you do. Write back and stay in touch!
Much love,
The Freemans
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