Count these numbered days.

Jubilant greetings one and all!

I'm done with my ISP. I have handed it in for binding. Life is exciting, because I'm not rushing at the last minute to finish up my work. My weaving is done (and awesome), my presentation has at least a vague outline, and life is good.
Aaaaand now I have to somehow fill eight days with activity before I fly home. Granted, three of these days are for presentations, but that only fills the morning and part of the afternoon. My wonderful roommates and I are going to go to the pool for two of them, and pool days are the best days on earth, but... I'm a bit at a loss for what to do with the rest of my time.
Because I stayed in Accra for the bulk of my ISP period, I have already seen the sights, both major and obscure. I've visited libraries around the city, seen the graveyards and mausoleums, the historical and cultural landmarks. And (though it may be a little mean to say this), there aren't that many.
Ghana, despite its prominence (at least on this continent) as a stable and developing, working, democracy, is still that. Developing. And as a result, I have already completed the complete "What to see in Ghana" checklist. So I'm sitting in Accra, counting down the hours until my presentation.
On another note, although I'm quite happy with my roommates, our room has deteriorated into something only we can ever appreciate. Our shower, once a soft spray of water, has devolved into a drip we catch with a bucket in order to bucket shower. Our floor is caked in a layer of dust, our bathroom an inch of mud. The balcony, once boasting a view of the courtyard, is now a wasteland from drying laundry and collecting a slow and grotesque collection of stray hairs from the four female occupants. The kitchen area, once so exciting and novel, is now a wet mess of squishy things we try to ignore as we prepare food and try to touch the counter as little as possible.
Oh, life, you are so glamorous.
My wardrobe and physical appearance have also taken a turn for the worse. I wear the same thing every day, not only because I only brought two pairs of pants (and one had to be thrown out after Mole) and I have to wear pants to weave, but also because I am so close to the end of the program I just can't bring myself to do laundry again. I suck at laundry, done by hand here. I put the clothes in the water, and no matter how hard I scrub they always come out dirtier. Or smelling of mildew.
I bet you can't wait to give me a big hug when I get home now, can you family?
I would feel guilty about being such a slob (my damaged hair is an abandoned project completely, I just secure it back as much as I can every day and remember it is all getting chopped off when I go home) except for the fact that everyone on the program is going through the same process. We can easily spot the new international students on campus now, their faces full of hope, their eyes shining bright, their clothes white and not some off-brown color. Oh, what I could tell them if we stopped to chat. But some things you can only discover for yourself.
Melodramatics aside, I am very excited to go home. I miss you all and I can't wait to be asked five billion times about Ghana! No, really, you can ask, it's okay. But keep in mind I'll want to hear about everything I've missed in your lives too.
I'll try to update once more before I head back. Until then, my friends, I bid you adieu.
Love,
Lo

December the first

Happy December, one and all!
It's kind of crazy, actually, to think that it's already the final month of the year. But so it is and so it goes, and so shall we move on in this blog post.
My life in Accra has been pretty busy but not all that terribly exciting since I last posted. I'm weaving almost every day while trying to get my paper typed. Fortunately I'm almost done with my paper (yay!), and as soon as that is completed I will be able to devote the majority of my time to finishing up my weaving projects and preparing my oral presentation. I still haven't decided if I'll actually prepare a speech or a "game plan" for my oral presentation or if I'll just wing it. Being a procrastinator, I'll more than likely make up my presentation on the spot, but who knows. Maybe I'll jot down some guiding notes or something.
My paper is going well. I'm actually finding it quite easy to write. Maybe because I'm so interested in the subject matter and I've spent so much time researching it, I really want my paper to be exciting and easy to read (but a legitimate research paper nonetheless). My advisor for this project, Professor Amagetcher, a textiles professor at KNUST (Kwame Nkruma University of Science and Technology) based in Kumasi but whose family lives in Accra, has been a great help. He's directed me to many good articles and helped me determine what, exactly, I want my paper to focus on. And crazily enough, he went to IU (That's Indiana University, for those who aren't from my good old Hoosier state)! I'm glad we had that to bond over, although I think he's incorrectly assumed I attend IU as well... but that's something we'll sort out another time, I guess.
It's amazing how two-faced I've found Ghana this past month. In the same walk to go weaving, I have the non-stop heckling from people who want nothing more than money from a white person, as well as people who will drop whatever they're doing to walk you to where you need to go simply because you're looking a little lost. Taxi drivers pass by and honk nonstop because I'm white and they assume I want to pay the five cidi (or more) for a ride instead of the fifteen peshewas for a trotro, but if I need to be pointed in the right direction at a trotro station, there's no shortage of people willing to guide me.
Maybe it's just because I've been here so long and I'm eager to return home (although I've had a grand time, don't misunderstand) but my fuse grows shorter and shorter when dealing with those who make blatant assumptions just because I'm not Ghanian. Today, on my way to the internet cafe, I was hissed at and stopped so that someone could ask me where Katherine was. There is no Katherine on our program-- I haven't even met a Katherine in all my time in Ghana. When I tried to explain this to the man, he couldn't believe me. He insisted I had to know her and that I was lying to him. It's just so ridiculous sometimes. But I digress.
I can't quite remember if I've talked about this on the blog or only in emails to people, but I've shifted the topic of my research again. The focus is still on Kente, of course, but now about how Kente is a defined aspect of Ghanian identity. It's unique to Ghana, you see, unlike many of the other handmade products like Batik or Ebony Carvings. However, it's also fairly popular around the rest of Africa and even (in singular stoles) in the United States and parts of Europe. The focus I'm taking, though, is how on the continent of Africa Kente is seen as Ghanian, whereas as soon as you depart the continent you find Kente is defined as African. It's part of the western perception of Africa as a whole entity instead of being comprised of many unique and diverse countries.
When I first went to school (I've forgotten if this was my first visit to Colby or if it was a subsequent parent's weekend) I was sitting with my dad in Foss dining hall and we saw a student wearing a shirt proclaiming "AFRICA IS NOT A COUNTRY". We both looked at each other and said "duh." Looking back, I still don't think the shirt is any better, but I understand more of what the student was trying to say. Often times, especially from the American perspective, Africa is treated as a whole problem, a single mass that can be fixed with various strategies and plans. Before I applied to the Ghana program, in fact, I had little idea where Ghana even WAS, much less the history, geography, culture, and other facets I have come to know over the past semester.
Well, I've gotten a bit preachy. Sorry, sorry. I'll stop now. The point is that since traveling to Ghana and studying here for a semester, I've collected some new perspectives and opinions on issues I wasn't even aware of previously. But that's what study abroad is supposed to do, right? Provide you with a new perspective that otherwise wouldn't be available to you at your home institution.
I'm staying with Isabel, Claire, and Megan Goldsmith in a room in the hostel and we're having a very fun time. We take a daily trip to the gas station (one of the only places you can always buy food, and predictable food at that) and spend a lot of our time doing nothing. While ISP has been good and provided us a lot of time to do our research... it's been almost too much time. Isabel, Claire AND Megan are almost done with their ISPs as well, and since they aren't doing Kente and don't weave every day, they don't have much to fill their time until we go home. They're preparing for presentations, but you can only do that for so many hours. We've run completely out of books.
Well, sorry for this haphazard and unbalanced blog entry! I just wanted to update and let you know I'm still alive and having a good time.
Love,
Lo