Global Colgate

Classes!

    Mid terms are next week and I don’t think I have mentioned classes more than once… During a regular semester at Colgate, classes consume my thoughts and time, but here in Ghana, my classes are often overlooked when I talk about my experience with my friends and family. I am in school, despite my lack mentioning it and the classes I am enrolled in here are incredibly interesting and very different from anything else I have ever done. Because I am a neuroscience major, there are not many classes here that I could take that are relevant to my major study so I am taking all electives which is really fun.

       I am enrolled in three classes through NYU in which I am taught by local professors but the only students are on my program. None of these classes has more than 15 students and the atmosphere is very personal and discussion based. Global Connections: Accra is a class that looks at the history and development of the city as well as the current political and social situation. I am very fortunate to have the former mayor of Accra as a professor, and he has included field trips to various parts of the city as part of the curriculum. Because I have a strong interest in neuroscience/psychology I am enrolled in a community psychology class, which examines the science of community initiative and development. My final class is Health and Society in which we study the cultural impact on medical practices as well as the current health issues of Ghana and the rest of the world. Two of my professors are also full time at the University of Ghana, Legon, which is where I take my last class. 

    The University of Ghana, Legon is the premier university in Western Africa with a student body of about 30,000 and an incredibly large, sprawling campus that seems to have no rhyme or reason at all as far as layout. It takes over a  half hour to go from my history class to the history department where I have to pick up my readings. The campus is teeming with international students, which really surprised me at first. I am in HIST 305, The Black Diaspora, which is a deeper look into the movement of Africans out of Africa (mostly via the slave trade) and the development of their descendants. There are about 160 students in the class, but we also have a mandatory tutorial once a week with a grad student and there are only 10 students in that. It has been very interesting to have the African perspective on the slave trade and the advancement of Africans since. Although the class is large, I really enjoy the lectures, even though they are 2 hours long, and the tutorials provide a great opportunity to talk with other students in the class and have more of the discussion based interaction I'm used to. I could talk about my classes this semester for hours, but I know it is not the most interesting topic to read about so I'll write more about what I am learning later. The internet has been spotty lately so... until i have connection again!!   -Kalin

152 Steps

Today Jen and I took a day trip to Segovia, which is roughly an hour and some outside of Madrid. Getting there wasn't a hassle, as transportation is an easy tool in, around, and out of the city. Perhaps this will give Madrid the boost in the 2016 bid? (As a Chicagoan, I certainly hope not.) We received advice from one of our newest friends, Guillermo, to take the bus over the train, and despite forgetting my Dramamine, the trip wasn't too bad.

  Upon arriving our first concern was not having a map whatsoever. Fortunately we found  a very nice man at a tourist center who knew exactly the route we wanted. His speech was so prepared it almost felt like rush. We began our adventure walking into town and immediately saw the famous preserved Roman aqueducts. Their height was so immense craning your neck hardly did justice. An engineering friend of mine told me his own tour group drooled at the sight of it - its height, its length, and its perfection without mortar.

La familia

Perhaps the greatest highlight of studying in Madrid is staying with a host family or individual señora. Without a doubt it challenges us to find conversation topics at lunch, remember to be respectful guests, and gives us yet another opportunity to grace the Spanish lifestyle.

Personally, I adore my new family. We live in an enormous piso (a condo or an apartment) and I think there has yet to be a moment when it is empty. My mother, Maria, always insists on eating her meals with me, which I find to be the sweetest gesture. At lunch and dinner we discuss school, the news (the television in the kitchen is seldom turned off), my life at Colgate, my family back home, and how different certain customs here are for an American. On occasion the housekeeper (who also resides in the house) will chime in between cooking extra course. She deserves much more credit than I can offer for preparing some of the best patatas a la riojana I've ever had. The husband mostly keeps to himself, but was surprised to hear I'm a fan of sports and claims he never thought he'd see the day when a woman would enjoy watching a game of fútbol. While they had seven children together, only the youngest, Marcela, still lives in the house and goes to classes. Nonetheless, the other six children visit frequently, and the grandchildren that run around are absolutely precious and love impressing me with their English-speaking skills.

the ghanaian family...

    This past weekend I was given the opportunity to stay in the home of a ghanaian family and experience a different way of life from that of a foreign student living amongst other Americans. Before leaving on Friday afternoon I was incredibly nervous and had no idea what to expect. From what I have seen since being here is a completely different way of family life and community norms than those which I am accustomed to in the United States. We drove about an hour from our area in Accra to another part of the city that I was completely unfamiliar with, and I was surprised by the vast extent of Accra. Considering the city did not become one cohesive populous until the beginning of the 20th century, it is amazing how far the lines of the city are drawn. 

    I arrived at the family's house at about 7pm on Friday night, and I was greeted by Eli who was to be my host brother for the weekend. I was joined by two other girls in my program for the home-stay so I think he was overwhelmed by our presence. Eli is a 20 year old who lives with just his mother in a typical middle-class home in Ghana. He told us that he is to start college October 1 as an economics major. Because Eli travelled to Denmark last year for a study abroad program where he participated in a home stay, he was eager to return the favor and allow students into his home to learn about the family and community life in Ghana.

A night out

Wednesday night was a treat.  Alayna’s parents arrived in Venice with a reservation at the Locanda Montin for the whole group.  Locanda Montin is a famous restaurant normally closed on Wednesday nights, but they cordially opened for our party of fourteen; many of the other tables filled as well.  Professor Ammerman and Elisabetta, our Italian teacher, were unable to join the party, but Professor Brownell joined the eleven students and the Colgate couple that played host.  Unfortunately, the week’s heavy rain forced us to sit at a long indoor table instead of at our reserved spot in the garden, but the mood could brighten even Venetian skies.  For the first time on this trip, we were able to sit as a group and truly experience a relaxing Italian meal.  For a culture that creates such outstanding cuisine, Italians understand that the food is not necessarily the centerpiece of a meal. 

 

The waiters poured the first round prosecco before bringing out the antipasti: fresh peppers, roasted zucchini and eggplant, brie, parmigiano, and bread.  Water and red and white wines from the Friuli-Venezia Giulia region accompanied the antipasti and were constantly resupplied by an attentive wait staff throughout the meal.  After the empty vegetable dishes we removed from the table, I chose the sea bass secondi rather than the chicken.  After a pause, the kitchen doors reopened with fourteen primi of spaghetti al pomodoro.  Every savory bite and sip of wine naturally fell into, and stimulated conversation.  The waiters unobtrusively removed my empty sea bass plate to make room for tiramisu.  The meal ended with a strong espresso and more time to continue conversation before the profuse “thank you”s. 

 

Grazie Mille!

 

A piu tardi!

 

Ciao.

 

Andy

Football, rock stars, and fashion week

I wouldn't consider myself a dedicated sports fan, but I have been to a couple of American professional games and loved every one. I love watching and the atmosphere. None of those games, however, compare to "real" Premier League football. This past weekend I saw Chelsea beat Tottenham at Chelsea. It was sooooo much fun! There were over 42,000 fans chanting, singing, and cheering throughout the entire game. American sporting events are enhanced with half time shows, raffles, trivia questions, etc. There was none of that in Chelsea, but none of that was needed. The 90 plus minute game felt like half an hour. It wasn't even a big time game, like a championship or anything, but the fans acted like it was. Amazing! I am already hooked on football. The past two nights I have gone to the local pub to watch the Crowley Cup.

In other news, I shared the same sidewalk with Ronnie Wood, the guitarist for the Rolling Stones who replaced Mick Taylor in 1975. I had no idea who he was at the time, but he looked famous and when a screaming fan ran up I knew he was. He proceeded to drop his candy a couple inches from my foot and his body guard picked it up!! I might as well be famous! Anyway, he continued to walk and by the time I got my camera all I could get was a picture of his back. Enjoy! (My computer wont let me upload the picture so I will try again tomorrow. Sorry! I know you can not wait to see Ronnie Wood's back)

Today marked the last day of fashion week. Due to monetary restrictions I could not attend, but still how cool is that?

This Friday I will be traveling to Stonehenge and Bath. That leaves Saturday-Monday for Dublin! I can't wait! 

oh no- hold up!

Yikes! It seems I made a bit of a mistake... That anti-abortion ad that I posted yesterday was NOT, in fact, released by the Community of Madrid.  It was a manipulated version of a Community of Madrid ad by some anti-abortion group.  The original ad read "The Community of Madrid, a great place to be born and to live.  Thanks to your tax dollars we have the best public services in Europe." That's it! Those other anti-abortion parts were added in to manipulate the ad and posted in the city by another group! So.. WOOPS! That changes a lot. Sorry guys! I messed up...

Pizza al nostro forno

Pizza is not a Venetian specialty.  Professor Ammerman claims to have eaten pizza in Venice only once in his more than twenty-five years of interaction with the city; it was so bad he has not made that mistake again.  While pizza purists will cite the poor local ingredients as the disqualifier of Northern Italy, the highly interconnected world has facilitated quality tomatoes for any pizza oven.  But still Venetians don’t make the grade, and the tourism that has killed quality eateries in the city is again not the limiting factor.  Venice’s particular situation is brought about by a history of fires.  On countless occasions through the storied history of the city, priceless public buildings and churches, and even more residential structures have fallen to fire.  Despite the ever presence of water, the closeness of the buildings and the difficulty of navigation through the maze that is Venice have been a powerful combination when fire starts licking.  The blazes spread quickly and destructively, so government continually grappled with possible ways to combat the conflagrations.  In 1291, the city forced its world-renowned glass factories to the island of Murano.  Most houses still show signs of wood-fired heating systems with their tall cylindrical chimneys, relatively recently all wood fires were outlawed within the city.  So pizza here is cooked in electric ovens which, despite specialization, cannot truly reproduce a wood-fired pizza.

 

Nonetheless I have eaten my share of pizza in the city.  I have sampled four different restaurants, one while under the wing of a Venetian guide.  The quality varied, not necessarily with the price, and none of the pies blew me away.  To try to find that perfect pizza, Howard and I have started to make our own.  He makes the dough a day before, and I start on the sauce as go-time approaches.  Mozzarella, pesto, fresh tomatoes, salamis, prosciuttos, eggplants, onions, and peppers (or pears, apples, Nutella, cinnamon, fetta and gorgonzola for desert pizzas) top a thin hand-thrown crust.  Experimentation has created the best of the pies.  Even with our petite oven which only reaches 250 degrees Celsius (~500 F) and leaves the bottom of the crust soggy, there is always something to be said for homemade. 

 

A piu tardi!

 

Ciao.

 

Andy

saludos!

Hola a todos--especially my fellow WMSTers! : )

I will be blogging from Madrid, Spain this fall as a part of an independent study I'm doing for my Soc major.. While I've haven't completely focused my research, I know that I will be looking at attitudes and depictions of gender/sex/sexuality in Spanish, or better Madrileño, society.  I was inspired for this project by a book one of my friends, who went on this trip a few years ago, brought back with her, which was designed to teach young children about sex.  Now this book had nothing about storks.  It was full of drawings, diagrams, etc. (made for little kids, of course) explaining everything from intercourse, to pregnancy, to giving birth, to contraception! So clearly, I realized right away that differences in attitudes about these matters would be super interesting to look at.  One way I've done this is by paying a lot of attention to is how these things are manifested in media images.  I've been taking a lot of pictures! Here are some things I've seen!...

Yes, this is a condom dispenser.  This picture was actually taken in a city called Tui, not Madrid, however, these are everywhere! One particularly common place is on the platform in Metro stations.  Also can be found in vending machines, like in the residence halls where we stayed our first two weeks in Spain.  What does this say about attitudes about contraception? How could things like this affect rates of HIV/AIDS, STIs, or teenage pregnancy? (the U.S. has the highest rate of AIDS of any industrialized country; Spain is ranked about #5 in Europe) These are interesting questions for two countries where abortion remains an extremely fiery debate. Which leads me to my next picture...

(I hope these are coming out big enough to read!) This one translates: "The Community of Madrid: a great place to be born.  A great place to live. That is, of course, if you don't abort us first. Thanks to what you contribute with your taxes, we have the best Public Services of Europe.  Abortion clinics included."

Whoa! Interesting, huh? As it stands right now, women can get abortions on demand up to 14 weeks.  But in fact, the current the Spanish legislature is actually working on another reform having with do with abortions by minors: Women under the age of 16 are free to make their own decisions about abortions, but parents must be informed. "However, in the event that the failure to inform their parents could trigger a serious conflict between parties, parents could be informed about the decision." In this case, there would be judicial intervention, in which the consent would correspond to the legal representative of the woman. 

(Source: http://www.barcelonareporter.com/index.php?/news/comments/12784/)

I have to consider myself very lucky, because I am living with a fabulous host mom that I can discuss all these things with.  I showed her this ad, and I guess she had never seen it before, but was surprised but not surprised.  Despite the national power in the hands of the Socialist Party, Madrid remains a generally conservative district.  So while this ad is not indicative of country wide sentiments (obviously not, when such a big time reform is in the works right now), it does represent the legitimate presence of a powerful opposition--in this case, a municipality's campaign.

Now, another thing that makes this all particularly interesting, is that there is another ad, that says this: "'Your resume looks great, but one quick question, you're not planning on getting pregnant, right?' If it seems crazy to ask a man this, it should for a woman as well!" (Bad quality, sorry!) While I know that there are exceptions, this was especially surprising to me, because I would see an anti-gender discrimination campaign and a pro-life campaign contradictory, right?  But we have to keep in mind that Spain is a very Catholic country, whose government right now happens to be Socialist.  But now, how crazy is it that the Community of Madrid is the one leading this campaign?

Also, getting back to this ad here, there are two things I think of right away.  First thing is- wow, great, a push for gender equality in the workplace. Trying to make pregnancy no longer an obstacle, or a deterring factor, in employment for women.  But then I think, wait, what? What do they mean, "this should sound crazy for a woman too"? I've yet to find out-but now I clearly will- what kind of gender discrimination laws are currently standing here in Spain. I'm pretty sure in the U.S. that could NOT be an interview question. When I talked to my Señora about this (that's what we call our host moms here), she said that it wouldn't be, in reality- that the deal here in Spain in terms of what you can say is the same.  However, in an incognito type of way, employers can say these type of things without really saying them, or obtain this information, and use it in some way or another to discriminate against women in the workplace.  Does that only happen here in Spain? Hmm.. We Americans are way further ahead than that, right? 

(To read about Spain's maternity/paternity leave policies, as well as that of many other countries, check out here! http://www.childpolicyintl.org/issuebrief/issuebrief5table1.pdf)

I have a ton more to share with you all! But I think I'll leave you with this for now while I am putting all the rest of my ideas together! Please feel free to send me e-mails (kopatovsky) with any questions or comments or things you'd like me to investigate further!

El museo del jamón

Among other things discovered this week, my cousin introduced a few of us to el Museo del jamón. Which, literally translated, is the museum of ham. I'm writing to give a shameless endorsement of the so-called museum.

While ideally it isn't the preferred location for a place to meet up with your vegetarian friends, the joint offers a really fun atmosphere. (And as an aside, ironically enough there is a vegetarian restaurant directly across the street, for anyone concerned.) In actuality, the museum is a bar and a carniceria (a meat store) blended into one. On one side you can stand around a deli and order some delicious meats (for example, ibérico or serrano), and along the other you can hang around an island, order a bocadillo or some tapas, and have a drink to go with it. Ideally, it's a place to eat a snack while sight-seeing, or have something to drink while waiting for your friends to catch up with you from the metro.

The Colgate Network

The best part of being in London so far has been the people I have met. Even though Colgate is not the biggest of schools, I would have never met my roommates or anyone in my group had I not traveled to London with them. They are so much fun and are making my experience here that much better!

This past week the Alumni Club hosted a pub night for all Colgate students in London. It wasn't a networking event but more of an opportunity to make more friends. The intent was to let us all know that there are still people in the area that we can talk to. I had no idea what to expect and to be honest I was pretty nervous. I know they said it would be relaxed, but I'm a senior about to graduate... nothing is relaxed!

It was relaxed! There were about 28 alumni and about 34 current students brought together for the event. In the 4 hours I was there ( I know 4 hours!!) I talked with graduates of all different ages about everything! We talked about Colgate, the Greek system, sports teams, Houston, New York, London, where to travel to, how to get around, post graduation, graduate schools, funny stories. It was great! The best part and the underlying theme of the night was that going to Colgate give you a great education but, more importantly, connects you with so many amazing people all around the world. The Colgate Network is huge! And everyone is willing to help because they know what it is like to be in my shoes. 

Aside from pub night, I learned a few things this week.

-In addition to driving on the left side of the road, Londoners also walk on the left side of the sidewalk.

-It is football not futbol.

-If you don't put enough water to boil rice it will burn to the bottom of the pan and be almost impossible to clean.

-I need to improve on my photography skills. Unfortunately that is the best picture I have of Big Ben.

  

Until next time... Cheers!

Yokoso! Japan

Good morning, how are you?  This post is about my week in Tokyo.  I wanted to wait until I could put pictures up, but I didn't want to delay the post any longer.  As soon as I learn how to properly put up pictures, I will add them.  Thank you for your patience.

 

 

When I first arrived in Japan, the weather was unusually cold due to a typhoon.  It was pouring as I rode the limousine bus to the Asia Center, which is where we stayed during our week in Tokyo.  What little I could make out through the clouded windows was not enough to convince me that I was in Japan.  However, that completely changed the following day. 

Plantains and Obrunis

    This morning some friends and I were discussing our desires for foods from back home. For example, I really miss cereal and real milk, but other things that made the list were diet coke, peanut butter, deli meats and potato chips. Don't get me wrong the food here in Ghana is amazing, it is very flavorful and spicy plus I have never left the table still hungry. But, when fried plantains and rice make the plate every night, it gets a bit repetitive. I guess it is all part of making Accra feel like home, when I enjoy eating the common foods here like I do the ones at home. This conversation got me thinking about all of the different cultural aspects of Ghana that I see on a daily basis but can still not get used to...

    1) Being called an 'obruni'... all the time-- Obruni is a term the Ghanaians use to mean white person or more generally foreigner. It doesn't matter what color your skin is, if you are not from West Africa you are an obruni. It is not an offensive term at all, but it does get annoying responding to obruni on the streets. 

    2) Open sewers-- the sanitation system in Ghana is not as advanced as ours in the United States. The drainage system consists of open sewage ditches on the side of the street that are about three feet deep and half way full of sludge. On the first day I was certain that I would fall into one of these ditches at some point (and I have seen 2 of my friends do it so far), but thankfully I've dodged that mistake. 

I Dolomiti

When I woke up this morning, my legs grudgingly loosened enough to carry me up the stairs to the shower.  The stiffness is a lingering souvenir from the excitement of the long weekend’s excursion north.  At 9:45 last Thursday morning, the whole group met at the train station and, after a change in Verona, we arrived in Trento.  We checked-in to the hostel and made our way to the natural history museum where some friends of Professor Ammerman took the group into the pre-history section of the museum.  When we had seen and handled the best and most recent artifacts, our guides drove the group to Riparo Gaban, a Neolithic rock shelter, where we learned the basics of field archeology.  The site was recently reopened to bring new archeological methods into the study of the site.

 

At 7:30 that evening, Professor Brownell joined the group to lead a walking tour of the fresco painted renaissance palace façades dating from the time of the Council of Trent.  When we’d had enough architecture, the group split up for dinner.  Nonetheless, all eleven students ended up at the same restaurant, a brewery famous for its beer and Austro-German influenced meaty food, so we pulled together our tables.  After paying for the satisfying meal and great beer, Beili, Caroline, Hiep, Howard, Liz, Preston and I explored the town, ate gelato and while walking to the hostel, we heard the unmistakable beats of a discoteca growing steadily louder as we approached.  Caroline, Howard, Liz and I put the others to bed and resumed our search for the source of the beats.  The presence of a spotlight helped us locate the party at the bus station, across the street from the hostel, but without any clear entrance.  Once we found our way under a bridge, past the bouncers and into the station, there was nothing to interfere with our first true interaction with the youth of Italy.  We traded dance moves with the locals until the DJ’s finished their set after 1:00, at which point we retuned to the hostel with clothes that smelled like cigarettes and a train to catch at 8:00 the following morning.

 

On my way to becoming a Londoner

My last couple of days have been spent walking, walking, and more walking. But there is no better way to see everything than get lost and hope you find your way back home. Lucky for me, there is always something beautiful to be seen in London. So my last days of walking have been well spent. My feet don't agree but the pictures prove it.

The plan is to get the touristy things out of the way and then become a true Londonder. Since my last post, I have toured Parliament and Westminster Abbey, traveled to Portobello Market, went to Thames Festival, went to another great performance (this time sitting down), planned a few trips, and of course gone to class. In the spirit of my fancy hostel book, which is the best book I have ever read, I'm going to describe each event in one word.

Parliament: Grand

Westminster Abbey: Historical

Portobello Market: Eclectic

Thames Festival: Celebration

The Mysteries (the great performance I saw): Uplifting

Planned Trips: Exciting!!!!

Class: Stimulating

That was actually really hard. I guess hostels are much easier to describe in one word.

We traveled through Parliament the same path the Queen walks when she opens Parliament. We saw how extravagant the House of Lords is and stood in the House of Commons. I saw where Garrick, the gentlemen who civilized the theater, was buried, and after attended a play in the theater named after him. Even cooler, I saw where Cromwell was buried, excavated to be put on trial, and where they put his head once he was convicted. I saw the Coronation chair and heard the story of the Stone of the Scone which is in Scotland until the next coronation. I celebrated with fellow Londoners, in the fire garden at Thames Festival and watched fireworks on Blackfriars Bridge. All of which are putting me closer to becoming a Londoner!

This week: My first exam (I forgot I was at school!), an alumni Pub night, and creating my futbol fantasy team for the premier league. Oh and more and more pictures to come soon!

Cape Coast

      I have now been in Accra for a month, and until this weekend I had not had the opportunity to travel outside of the city. At 6:30 AM on Saturday morning we boarded our typical tourist bus and headed for Cape Coast.

The trip took us three hours west of Accra along the coast and drove us through both very urban and rural, uninhabited parts of the country. Cape Coast today is a large fishing village right on the coast, where thousands of canoes travel in and out everyday with fish and other local seafood. Saturday happens to be a market day so when we arrived, the streets were packed with vendors and all of the canoes were ashore while the fisherman sold their catches. 

 This fishing town, however, is most known for the two castles that sit on the hills overlooking the town. Ghana is part of what is known as the "Gold Coast," which spans western Africa along the Gulf of Guinea. Beginning in the 15th century, Europeans discovered the immense wealth of Western Africa and began to set up trade posts along the coasts. The Portuguese were the first to come to what is now modern day Ghana, and built "El Mina" castle in Cape Coast in the late 15th century. This castle eventually became the most prominent slave holding and trading post on the Gold Coast. 

¡Hola!

My name is Natalie and I’m a junior at Colgate, loving the experience abroad in Madrid, Spain! Our (rather appropriate) group of thirteen piled out of the train in Santiago de Compostela the 24^th of August, and ever since we’ve been enjoying la vida española.

 

For those who don’t know, Santiago is in the northwest part of Spain in Galicia. Our first two weeks there were spent between classes, discovering the town, eating our hearts out, and frequent siestas. We started off our second day immediately thrown into three classes: History of Art in Spain, Practical Spanish, and Spanish History. These were to prepare us for Madrid; knowing a little about the political situation in Spain, appreciating the art in el Prado and the architecture around the city, and being able to communicate with everyone we would meet.

 

From the Himalayan Foothills of Mussoorie...

Namaste to all!

We arrived on Thursday night to Mussoorie, a Hill station in the Himalayan foothills--although I would hardly call the trek up here a drive through the hills. We left around 6:30 am from Delhi and boarded a bus that would take us to Dera Dhun, a larger town a the base of the mountains. Apparently, the driver told us the trek up couldn't be made by the bus. After hours of intensely crowded roads, small towns with no more than chai stops and fried sweet stands (along with the occasional overbuilt tourist destination "resort"), we made it to the Yamuna river--one of the holiest in Hindu pilgramage. The bridge barely surpassed the strong current, made brown and intense by the months of monsoon just passed. So began our trek, in smart-car size taxis with exceptionally talented drivers up the most dangerous switchbacks I've ever been on. Some of the group was literally in tears by the time we made it up--I asked the driver if I could drive, but he clearly wouldn't have it.

The community is largely Tibetan, with many people from Nepal and surrounding Northern areas. Milkmen bring loads of batches up and down the ridges in silver jugs sealed with fanned leaves--either placed in rope slings on the back or over a donkey's. My incessant need to blab my mouth to everyone (even though I don't make a bit of sense) has created a friendship with the neighbor of our guest home. Sahim and I went into town and got supplies for dinner--including fresh chicken from a man who has owned it for generations and provides us with a dinner made Geldhi (quickly). She's been teaching me the right way to make Chapati, a whole-wheat baked bread. So far she's laughed at my polygon-shaped mess as she schools me with perfecly round baked yumminess. Today we're going into town to get fabric for clothes at her favorite place, where she says she knows the men won't try to rip me off since she's there to help. She keeps hinting around that I should get my nose peirced like her and every other woman in India have. I told her I might pass out.

Tomorrow we start an intensive language course at the Landour Language school, just up the hill from our guesthouse. The two-week course, at four hours daily, should give us a great start on our Hindi...but Sahim and her daughter Zara have been giving me intense Hindi lessons without trying already. Haha

The sun is finally out--after what the locals called the last dump of "Barish", or rain--so I think I'll venture as far up as I can. Maybe I'll get some great pictures for posting...

Until then, Namaste to all!

Milly

GHANA: 2, SUDAN: 0 !! On Sunday afternoon, some of my friends and I decided that homework could be set aside and we made our way to the 4th round FIFA World Cup qualifying round match between Ghana and Sudan. From about 10 blocks away from the stadium, the general madness ensued. Traffic was at a standstill and our cab driver told us that if we were to make the game, we would have walk the rest of the way. Outside the car in the streets, music was blaring and the plastic horns (that seem to be a staple at football matches) were sounding from all directions. Like a sports game in the UNited States, outside of the stadium there were vendors selling t-shirts, beer and Ghanaian flags, as well as rambunctious fans adorned in Ghana apparel and green, yellow and red paint. I felt left out and bought a Ghanaian flag so that I could fit in a bit better. We waited in line to enter the stadium for 30 minutes, the whole time being hassled by men who wanted to paint our faces and sell us ice cream. Apparently, arriving at a football match an hour ahead of time is not sufficient time because by the time we arrived, every seat in the stadium was taken. The seat number and section on my ticket seemed to carry no meaning because my seat was taken, as well as all of my friends. We ended up sitting in the very front row, which sounds nice but really means that we were sitting close to the glass wall behind wooden barriers and the Ghanaian police force.

     At half-time, we hoped that people would leave their seats in the upper rows and we could move in, and people did come in streams down the stairs at half-time, but there were still no open seats. It seems that people had been standing in rows at the top of the section, as well as sitting in the aisles, on railings and standing against walls just to get a glimpse of the game. In a stadium that is meant to hold 40,000, there were easily 70,000. I decided that it was worth it to brave the crowd, so a friend and I made our way up to the top of the section and found an open space against a back wall that permitted views of the entire field, as well as the ball. Our presence, as seemingly unenthusiastic foreigners must have made the fans around us a little uneasy because all of the other non-Ghanaian fans were hiding out in the front rows with no view. From our new location,  I could better see the indescribable enthusiasm that the Ghanaian fans have for their country's football team. I have been to professional sports games in the UNited States and I have never seen such rowdy and excited fans that kept up their frenzy for the entire game. It was refreshing to be able to watch a game without hearing "We Will Rock You" or "eye of the Tiger", and instead having a traditional drum beat mixed with a number of different cheers that I failed to understand or learn. Probably one of the most remarkable moments of the match for me was watching all of the fans in the stadium successfully complete 'the wave' four consecutive times.

 

    In the end, Ghana beat Sudan, 2-nil, and the excitement of this was heard through the streets. Amazingly we made it out of the stadium in the group we came in, but had no luck finding a cab (mostly because the streets were impassable by car). We decided to walk home and the entire way we heard shouts and music; it seemed that everyone in the entire city knew that Ghana had won. I'm sure that people were celebrating in the streets all night... Unfortunately though, I had to get home to study for my first test of the semester, which was on Monday morning. This was my first experience with any international football match, and next time there is a match in Accra, I will certainly be there. 

Walk like a Venetian

It’s three thirty in the afternoon.  You’re exhausted from the two and a half hour architectural walk through the oldest part of the city, after a full day of class.  You have a full backpack with books, lunch containers and a laptop, and you’re hungry.  The chill in the crisp air that woke you at six this morning has long since evaporated, replaced by the dwindling remnants of August’s suffocating heat.  All you want to do is get home to the leather couches and the fully stocked refrigerator.  So you leave school; you even have a smile despite your body’s desire to be horizontal, and you cross the first bridge and then the second and third.  You turn towards the scaffolding-clad Academia Museum and you see the guards at the vaporetto stop.  Today you walk home.

 

As you climb the poorly spaced steps of the Academia Bridge, you begin to count the photographs you’ve interrupted.  A man in front of you stops abruptly and your better judgment makes you sidestep to avoid the hard collision that would seem more and more satisfying each day.  You accelerate on the slope down the bridge, weaving between lovers holding hands.  You pass the occasional local who, for what ever reason, has been forced to walk this overcrowded pathway during the day.  You feel her pain, and you notice the similarity of your gaits.  Her bag is on her right shoulder, her right hand on its strap, and her left arm swings violently yet productively, driving her through the people.  Tourism is what sustains the city, brings in the wealth, keeps the shops open, but when you live here you realize that it has created an artificial existence for the city that has driven out the locals and all but killed the Venice that was.  So you breathe once you pass through Piazza San Marco and open onto you calle, and you promise yourself a walk into the one of the last residential areas once the cruise ships refill their staterooms and honeymooning couples repopulate their hotels.  Then you can find La Serenissima.

 

A piu tardi!

 

Ciao.

 

Andy