The Hyatt Life

Much has happened since I last posted to my blog. The school year is finished. I visited Obama Land. And now I am on the tail end of a ten day vacation to Ghana. For those of you who pity my life which lacks water, electricity, climate control, fast food, Starbucks and paved roads, please don’t. 

I left my village June 25^th to catch a flight leaving to the States from the capital city July 4^th. I took my time getting to the capital city and spent the week visiting friends, sitting poolside, and eating chickens. Once in the states, my days were filled with golfing, playing scrabble with my mom, hitting the links, catching up with friends over drinks, teeing it up, and road-tripping with my family.  There were many nights when I got in late from hanging out with friends knowing that my dad would be waking me up early the next morning for a 7 AM tee-time. My waking moments were filled with so much good that sleep seemed to be a waste of time. 

Taking out the trash. With FIRE!

Returning to Burkina Faso, I spent two weeks in my village. Coming back to my new home was nice, but my village seemed deserted. My fellow teachers had left to spend summer vacation with their families in the city, and my village friends spent all day in the fields. When I could sleep and read no more, I wandered around my village and explored the wilderness beyond. An hour’s walk from the village center and I still found myself among fields with people busy at work. In an area the size of a football field, I commonly could count 30 pairs of hands busily prepping the soil and burying seed. Field after field, all full of working boys, girls, old men and women, cows and mules, it became clear that every pair of capable hands and hooves was devoted to cultivation. My hands suddenly seemed baby soft and my clothes embarrassingly dirt-free. Coming from America, I was culture shocked. But it made me smile. 

Family compound at the base of Loumana Mountain

Overgrown field before cultivation nestled in Loumana Canyon

 After two weeks, I hopped on a bus to the Ghanaian coast. Barged, haggled, forced, and ‘jammed myself into’ could all replace the word hopped. And a bus actually means several buses, taxis and tro tros (Ghanaian version of bush taxis). The 2-day hassle of actually getting to the beach was quickly forgotten when I found myself eating lobster, body surfing, boogie boarding and sunbathing on pristine wilderness beaches. Imagine Hawaii 100 years ago. Vast stretches of the coastline are yet to be developed where the only thing between impassable rainforest and crashing waves is a white sand beach – and the only thing on the beach, me.  Sunbathing.

Butre Beach and Lagoon. Didn't sleep there but will next time.

This picture will look much different 100 years from now - more resorts, people and pavement.

I am writing this from a balcony on the third floor of a hostel next to the bus station in Kumasi, Ghana. Kumasi is home to the largest open-air market in the world. I walked there this morning. To get a better view of the market, I climbed a two-story building crowded with one-roomed telephone stores with a surprisingly wide selection of smart phones. Looking down over the market reminded me of standing on top of the Grand Canyon but looking down on a sea of people, carts and tin roofs instead of open space and the Colorado River. I descended the steps, never went into the market, and returned to the tranquility of this hostel balcony to write this blog. 

Incredibly massive but I'll pass. I'm not much of a shopper.

I said goodbye to Leslie Otto yesterday. We traveled together and had the beach to ourselves between the rainforest and crashing waves. Having finished her two years, she is on her way to Europe en route ultimately to the states leaving me to travel solo back to Burkina Faso to finish my second year of service.

It is now 1:30 PM. My bus leaves at 5 PM. Again, words in italics are loosely defined. I wish myself Godspeed.  

One last thing, my September will be devoted to the solar panel project as I just received an email confirming the money is in my account so I can give the green light to get the project underway. Exciting times! Again, thanks to all those who donated and know that every cent will go directly to helping the students of my school.