American Privilege: 10 reasons why you're a spoiled American....

This flag is hanging in a Ghanaian's car...
how many of you Americans have one in your car?

Count your Blessings fellow Americans. Wave the flag, go eat some apple pie or a hot-dog,  go mow your lawn..or watch a baseball game. Live it up because you are one lucky Son of a.....merican ;) Read the list and feel grateful.

1. NEPA!!!!
You have uninterrupted electricity as long as you pay your bill. YOOO... as I write this...the power just went off. The average Nigerian has to deal with power going on and off ALL DAY...YES ...ALL DAY. This impacts everything. How you store your food, how you travel, how you work.Imagine being at work and all of a sudden there are no lights, imagine being in class and there are no lights...imagine writing an important document and the electric goes out before you can save it... sometimes you just cant charge your phone, sometimes you're just in darkness. Wealthy Nigerians have generators..but generators need fuel...so you have to fuel your car and your generator, that's if you're wealthy. Ghana's Electricity isn't as bad as Nigeria's,  but there are periods where they are without power as well. At least they can find out on the radio how long the lights will be out, but its still extremely inconvenient...Imagine your lights going out during the scandal season finale, or during a football game, while you are walking home at night, in a club...wherever ...and all you can do is wait...Yep You're a lucky American

2. The hot shower/ water in general
So in the States we have the hot and cold water spouts in our baths. In West Africa, most people only have one...that means cold water only. It doesn't get very cold in West Africa so people don't really mind the cold shower. But if you are like me, you've taken cold showers only on a few occasions, when your mom didn't pay the gas bill, when you used the showers at the beach to clean off the sand , and last, when you were the last person to shower in the morning and all the hot water was used.  "This sucks," you may have thought. Well guess what...you are a privileged American get over it! (I'm also screaming at myself as I write this) How have I got used to cold showers for the two months? You just gotta jump in...Its actually not that bad...I'm somewhat used to it now.The positive is that you wake up immediately. I assure you will not fall back asleep after a cold shower.You know some folks don't even use the shower. In every Nigerian/Ghanaian bathroom that I've been in, there is a set of buckets in the bath tub. There is a bigger bucket (the size of the mop bucket) and a smaller bowl sized bucket. I assume you'd fill the big bucket with water, and you use the smaller bucket to rinse with. Yes some people only need a bucket of water to wash with. How many buckets of water do you think you use in the morning? Speaking of water, we pay our water bill and fairly clean water comes out. This is a luxury.I don't care how much you prefer bottled water. Here most people have to find their own means to get water like wells etc. The water company doesn't just deliver safe water. You are practically on your own...Wave that flag chile....

3. Technical Difficulties
So most people use cell phones here, but its an entirely pay as you go system. Your choice of service is Glo, or MTN and maybe 1 other...that's it.  If you want Internet, you pay based on how much data you want to use. No there is no unlimited data for cell phones or WiFi service. Most people refuse to stream so no Netflix, and your YouTube habit will have to end here...cold turkey. Also, most of us don't realize that you can turn your data off on your phone. I for example would breeze through the day checking Facebook, or email or YouTube and not paying attention to my phone's data when I wasn't using it. This is a BIG MISTAKE here. Your phone is using your data even when you aren't using your phone. Every single app, including candy crush, and craigslist, (I don't even have to say Facebook...you know they are watching) is using your overpriced prepaid data. Then apps can use your data to update the material or to sync your accounts etc. ...you have stop your phone from doing that too. Those auto updates have got to go as well...or else. I once brought data in Ghana that my friends said would last for two weeks...it was GONE in 5 hours.... MANNNNN we are so lucky. I've run out of Data so many times, I've lost count. Most of it was wasted on things that I really wasn't aware was happening. One of the things that I miss most in Africa besides my friends and friends and loved ones...is my unlimited DATA plan.....YES I'M  A SPOILED AMERICAN.

4. Education
No matter where you live in America, there is free education from kindergarten through high school. Some schools are better than others but you learn the basics. This isnt the case in West Africa. There are some towns that have zero schools. Can you imagine that? Most people who have the means, send their children to private school, because the public school system (if there is one in the area) is substandard. I come from a working class family and was educated in the public school system. It would be extremely difficult for me to get a college education if I never had the option of public school.

5. The Dollar
You think you're broke now...you have no idea. If you take 1 dollar to Ghana, you receive 3.5 Cedis. If you take 1 dollar to Nigeria, you get 165 Naira. What this means is that its three times or 165 times more difficult to pay for your day to day expenses if you are Ghanaian or  Nigerian . The economies in these countries are suffering, which means the people are suffering.  I drove in a cab for 20 minutes and payed him 3500 Naira, roughly 21 dollars. Imagine if was a Nigerian and  I only made 15,000 Naira a month ? Yes I know someone who makes this much. I also know a Ghanaian who works at a fairly good job. She makes about 800 Cedis a month which translates to about $228.00... A MONTH.  The struggle is real!

6. Jobs
If you think our unemployment rate is bad, the Nigerian and Ghanaian Unemployment rate is disastrous. Currently we have 6.3% unemployment rate in the U.S, Nigeria's is 29.3%. So the two people above are still lucky compared to all of the unemployed folks. My friends in Ghana and Nigeria spoke to me of all of the College graduates who have no jobs.

7. Government Corruption
So yeah, our government is definitely corrupt. But most of it is done without us knowing (or paying attention to). Nigeria and Ghana's government government officials , according to the citizens are thieves who take  country's money and fill their in their own pockets openly. One Ghanaian  even went as far to say that the US shouldn't give Ghana anymore money since it never gets to the people. Don't shoot the messenger...no really...

 8. Visa
If you are an American, you can most likely get a visa to visit any country (except maybe North Korea, or Cuba or something like that). The world is open to you. I received my Ghana visa in 3 days, I received my Nigerian visa in 4 days. How long do you think it takes a Ghanaian to receive an American visa? What about a Nigerian? Most applicants are denied the visa simply because of suspicions that the person may want to stay longer than the visa permits or try to become a citizen. Some people apply multiple times and pay their money for the application fees but the money is non refundable.

9. Popularity
As an American abroad, you are an instantly seen as interesting. I don't care how boring you are, your favorite hobby could be watching paint dry...Because you are from America, everyone wants to talk to you. I was shocked when one of my students said that I was "so cool", I wanted to hug her and shed a tear.  In Ghana, I saw more American flags than Philadelphia...the first city of America. Even those who hate America find interest in you. I rode a bus in Nigeria and a guy was ranting about America ( I could agree with most of his points), then he offered me his food. Everyone is extra nice to you also. Asking if you need anything and praying that you love their country. You could be a crack head in the states. They will treat you like a pop star in Ghana.

10. Mosquitoes
I've talked about this already...you just don't know how lucky you are to have american mosquitoes biting at you and not African ones *scratches leg with about 20 mosquito bites on it* I will not fuss anymore...I will not fuss anymore....

So I complain a lot about America...I will continue. Frederick Douglass said that the best form of patriotism is dissent. But now I know how lucky (and spoiled) I really am.  This list could go on forever.  Tell me what I've missed....

Waterfalls and Things

Nsuo: Water (Twi, language of Ashanti tribe in Ghana)

As a young girl, my homies T-boz, Lefteye and Chilli of TLC advised me, "don't go chasing waterfalls, please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to"...well ladies, I respectfully disagree.  I'm used to the Schuylkill, the river that flows through Pennsylvania and my childhood memories. I'm used to the Potomac of DC, a beautiful backdrop to the monuments and government buildings.  I've lived on the banks of the powerful Mississippi River in New Orleans where we learn to respect its "muddy bosom" remembering Hurricane Katrina. Yes ...I've known rivers... But residing  inside of me is a  deep thirst to know and see and feel...more. Some call it Wanderlust... l'll call it Waterlust...I am an Aquarius! Now I'm chasing waterfalls in West Africa,  literally!

In Nigeria, I visited the Erin-Ijesa  Waterfalls in Akure. Akure is the capital city of Ondo State. We drive a little under 3  hours to the Erin-Ijesa waterfall. This is my first time seeing a waterfall of any kind...ever.  No I have never seen a waterfall (including Niagara falls) in the states. Yes I recognize the irony of traveling thousands of miles to see a waterfall when one of the most famous in the world was only 1 state away from my birthplace. My response..."you don't know ma life son" and "*blushing* well I plan to see it someday".
 Anyways,when we arrive, we pay our fare (all at the local price), park and are on our way. I planned to get a bathing suit when I first arrived to Nigeria and realized later that people (at least not the Nigerians in the towns) don't really do the whole bathing suit thing. I was relieved to wear shorts and a t-shirt by default at this waterfall, because that's exactly what everyone else wore. What I've learned in my time in West Africa is that modesty in attire is very important (a future blog post).  To get to the top of the waterfall, we had to climb stairs and hills. So I'm, what you'd call a plus sized woman. I lovingly embrace all of me, but yes I had some difficulties traveling to the top of that waterfall,  this girl was sweating. The steps were difficult but were not as bad as I thought. What was more difficult however, were the hills. On top of being plus sized...and awkward...I am also a huge klutz. So, I on certain occasions, was sliding down the side of these hills. Thank God Sister and her friends were there to help or I'd be rolling to the bottom.

 Erin-Ijesa Olumarin Waterfalls

When we made it  to the top, my jaw dropped! This waterfall was absolutely amazing. I watched in glee as the water, which seemed to come from heaven, cascaded down,  crashing violently into huge dark stones or dark bodies grabbing hold to one another to soften the blows.  I stayed at the bottom of the waterfall, where the  ferocious waters rested and transformed into a serene bath. That is the designated area for punks like me, I took pictures and watched the wonderful scene play out in front of me. Like netflix...on hd... surround sound... blue ray times 100. This is real!   What I notice about the people in the water is that they talk and play and laugh together as if they are all family. In the U.S., the tourists would be dividing themselves up and talking primarily to the people that they came with. We'd probably say a few kind words to someone sitting close to us but would we hold on to complete strangers so that everyone can stand together safely under a waterfall? Hmmm...maybe not, we are so obsessed with personal space if you are a stranger. Its understandable.  We are taught to protect ourselves so we won't become a victim of some horrible crime. But we are seriously missing out if we lock out every stranger. I will try to remember this lesson in the U.S. when I'm chillin' in my comfort zone and letting my potential friend/mentor/waterfall anchor pass me by.  We leave the Waterfall a few hours later.  Sister's friend points out a catfish swimming in the water by my feet as we are leaving and I run away like a little girl.

I went on a trip to a historical site called Idanre Hill. An English teacher named "Auntie Bola" two Homaj students ( Blessing and Toye) and I climbed to the top of hill. Once again, there were lots of steps , 660 steps to be exact. Lawd!!! Those steps though...at one point, I was holding my chest like Fred Sanford, and I was sweating so bad, it looked like I just had a shower. Every ten minutes I asked the tour guide what number step we were on. He annoyingly gave me a random number close to 600. I guess he figured I may quit if he said 300 instead of 583. I believed him because sometimes you need Santa to be real. I wanted to crawl at times, but I talked myself out of it saying 'girl have a little dignity'. This big girl was getting her fitness on. When I got to the top, I felt like Rocky. I swear I heard "eye of the tiger" I had the urge to do 'the wobble', and bite one of those goats I saw simultaneously. I ignored the crazy and simply said "we made it"instead.   The view from the top made it all worth it, it was spectacular! The entire village below was in view. The rusty red roofs and orange colored dusty roads made the town look magical.

Idanre Hill 

The stories is like this... for thousands of years, people lived on this mountain but because of pushes for modernization, most left their home and settled in the town below in 1928. There are still some people who live at the top but most come back annually to pay respect to the home that their ancestors left behind. During the tour on Idanre Hill, we passed a stream of water that was flowing through a rock. I'm staring in disbelief...how is this water coming from here? I confusingly look up at my tour guide who tells us the the water was known to be sacred and could heal ailments. He said when everyone lived on this hill, people would bring the sick to this very site and they'd be well again. We step in the water, it was rather chilly for such a warm day. I think about what the guide says about this water's healing powers and am happy to be standing in a place that meant so much to the villagers. I touch it lightly with my fingertips.  As we were exiting , we noticed some children further down the stream bathing in the water, laughing and playing. They see us and yell a greeting. Then they put their clothes on in haste and join us for the rest of the tour.  We see the Ancient palace, and its courtyard , we see a school, a jail, and a courthouse all from hundreds of years ago, all very fascinating...Then there was this huge stone sitting high in the sky. It had a message chiseled deeply into it. The writing is clear as day, but it isn't English...or Spanish ...or any language that we have in our modern world. The tour guide says that this is the "unreadable letters of the flood ". The people believe that this place is the site where Noah arrived after the flood, and those letters in the stone... some type of message for humanity.  I thought about this site all night, its mysteries made my mind wander...and off to sleep I went.

In Ghana, I visited a waterfall in the city of Kintampo. There were 3 stages of this lovely waterfall and very  few steps (thank you lawd). Stage 1 and 2 showed  the route of the water, stage 3 showed the waterfall's final destination. This Waterfall was very different from the one in Nigeria. The biggest difference is location. In Nigeria, we walked from the bottom to the top to view the waterfall. In Ghana, we started at the top and walked down to the bottom where the water fell off a huge cliff. Both views were amazing .  At Kintampo waterfalls, I found myself in a daze, the waterfall was just too beautiful. The trees, and the breeze, the smell,  the sounds , a soundtrack of laughter, roars of the water, the birds chirping and my own pulsing heartbeat providing the bass, was just too perfect. Have you ever convinced yourself that all that is in front of you is a dream? You reason with yourself because you know the disappointment of waking up, reality slapping you in the face, to find it all to be just a dream. Reality's slap is less painful if you know it isn't real way before you open your eyes. This is one of those moments... But all the reasoning in the world doesn't change the fact that this isn't my dream this is my LIFE. And I am indeed blessed. I don't know the specifics of my creation, I sometimes am confused by the whole religion question, but MAN...I can't help but  be grateful. A little ghetto kid born in Camden NJ, chilling in a Waterfall in Africa...unable to determine if she's dreaming or not. I can't help but to give this Creator praise whoever he,or she or it is.

Kintampo Waterfalls

So...this time I decided to be less of a punk and get further into the water...then I saw someone fall off the rocks. The rocks were very slippery and people were sliding everywhere.  They didn't seem to mind falling, I however  would probably kill myself. So I ventured further than I did in Nigeria, I got extra close but I did not make it under the waterfall with its slippery rocks...

You may be thinking, what the hell is the point of chasing waterfalls if you didn't actually go UNDER the waterfall? Well...good question...I thought about this myself. This is what I came up with...I chased the waterfalls, saw them with my own two eyes...took me a sip to satiate my thirst for adventure and guess what...I have no broken bones, or ribs, I'm in no pain. I say that's a victory for a klutz like me...don't judge me...you don't know ma life...SON. ;) And the waters flowing inside this Aquarius are electric because of these experiences.

Homaj Secondary School

Akowe: student ( Yoruba language)

A chunk of my time in Nigeria is spent at the Homaj International Secondary School. So  Mummi Helen, on top of being one of the sweetest women ever, is also a Philanthropist whose opened multiple schools in Nigeria. The Homaj secondary school has students ranging from 10-19 years of age. It is an optional boarding school and an impressive academic center. They learn english, math, computer science, geography, French, Yoruba, chemistry, biology, home economics and more.  Every morning I'd travel to the school.

My first day at Homaj , I was warmly greeted by the principal,  staff and students at an assembly.  When the students were told I was an American who would  be teaching them , they were beyond excited. Some waved and others laughed or whispered to their friends. I knew this would be an adventure.

Sister befriended 3 Staff members at the school and after the assembly, I was personally introduced to them. These young woman also gave me a warm welcome with hugs and laughter and questions about my trip.They were all such beautiful women, all ranging in skin tone and hairstyles but unified in their sweet countenance. They commented on my hair and when I told them that I planned on putting it up because of the heat, they decided to do it for me. One of my fondest memories  of Nigeria are these lovely ladies removing cornrows from my hair and putting my long dreds into a regal updo. I felt so grateful to meet such kind women here. This was only day 3 in Nigeria and I was already falling in love.

When I started to get to know the super respectful intelligent students, they became my ultimate joy in Nigeria. My first time teaching preteens was exciting but not as smooth as the picture I had in my mind. I spoke about myself and where I was from. I thought things were going great until I looked into my students faces and saw the puzzled look that I learned to understand as " you're speaking too fast but we don't want to offend you...so we'll just nod when you look at us". I also had difficulty understanding them at times as well. Slowly but surely, we began to understand each other and I grew an emotional bond with them.

The Intelligent Homaj Students!

I taught U.S. facts, English pronunciation, and geography. I was not the best teacher! Some classes were awesome and I left the classroom feeling like Sister Mary Clarence in sister act  2.  Others were not successful, like when I tried to teach over 70 African children about American slavery in 40 minutes outside...without a mic...(that was a disaster).  Even with the problems, they listened because they loved being taught by an American. Some of the best moments occurred when I told the students that they can ask me anything about America or myself. The questions were hilarious. "Do you know Beyonce...what about Rihanna?" " Do you know my uncle?...his name is ...and he lives in Maryland ." " What do you do with people when they die?... I saw a movie where they were burned" " Do vampires live in America?" "Please tell me about the Illuminati." But there were also questions about my hair and my name, about universities and children their age. We laughed and talked. But I avoided one question like the plague. "Auntie Shanique, can you please sing us an American song?" I'd say "hmmmmm....how about you sing me a Nigerian song." Then they'd sound like angels as they sang, making me more adamant about hiding my not so good singing voice. I taught one class Nas' "I know I can" and they yelled it in unison "I know I can...be what I wanna be...if I work hard at it...I'll be where I wanna be! " I pray the lyrics touched the core of them, especially the insecure ones.

A few days ago, I witnessed the schools lively graduation ceremony featuring multiple dance performances, singing and even a drama skit. These kids were so talented! Congratulations to the Homaj Secondary School’s graduating Class of 2014. Show the world what you’re made of. I want to send a special shout out to Blessing and Toye...I expect great things from you!

Hello Kumasi...Goodbye Kumasi

Akwaaba: welcome ( twi, the language of the Ashanti tribe)

Today is my last day in Kumasi. Tomorrow morning I travel to Accra to board my plane back to Nigeria.
I used to read travel blog entries of people who traveled to Ghana. Most of them were volunteers or backpackers. They spoke of the friendly people and wonderful tourist attractions. I thought I knew how it would feel to be here. But my experiences have been better than I've ever imagined. Each tourist Attraction that I read about was 10 times better when my feet touched these places. And so I will miss Ghana sooo much, but I will be back with others.

So Kumasi is the capital of the Ashanti Region of Ghana. The Ashanti tribe is rich in culture and speak Twi. Yes Ghanaians are extremely friendly, especially if they know you are a visitor.  One man on the  side of the road said "welcome home" and smiled at me. My days started in the late morning.  I'd travel with Wednesday to his sister Becky's store after breakfast and people watch or play with Becky's two young children. The whole family treats me like a relative and I'm so grateful for the kindness.

On my first trip, I travel to Lake Bosomtwe. The drive to the lake took my breath away,it was absolutely stunning. The sky seemed to blend in with the trees and the trees blended with the water in an amazing trinity like scene. I took picture after picture out of the side of the red Honda but none came close to what my eyes saw. I studied every nook and cranny and hoped that the view would have a permanent home in my psyche.
When we arrived to the lake, Wednesday and I paid our entrance fee ( the local fee for us both) and saw this spectacular lake up close and personal. We rode a motor boat out into to the lake after putting on bright red life vests. For a good 20 minutes we stayed in the waters and I enjoyed every minute of it. The cool part of the sites I've seen in West Africa is that the locals aren't kicked out when they are built. Because this lake is in the middle of a town, it was a wonderful mix of tourists , fishermen and local children enjoying the lake. A young teenage boy who I assume was related to the sailor,  rode the boat and accompanied us as we walked around the lakeside. He said that he liked my phone and I let him play 'fruit ninja' I in turn  watched the sea do its dance. We made an international trade for a good 40 mins...I got the lake and he got to play a cell phone game...was it a fair trade? Not by a long shot. I obviously got the bargain. But we both enjoyed ourselves.

I went to see where kente cloth is made. I went to Wagner Middle School in the East Oak Lane section of Philadelphia. When I graduated, I wore the colorful kente cloth draped over my shoulders with my cap and gown. When my locs were in their beginning stages of growth, they'd stand in the air, defying gravity and conventional beauty standards. I'd take a strip of Kente cloth and use it as headband, tying it at the nape of my neck and letting the ends fall on my shoulder. At the time, I knew this cloth was from Africa but had no clue exactly where. 14 years later I'm watching a man weave this cloth by hand.

The town where they make Kente cloth is call Bonwire. So men who are specially trained in weaving kente...sit in front of a weaving contraption and create art. Most pieces take days to finish but the results are extraordinary. As the weaver works on a yellow and white cloth I watch the tedious hand work.  Kente cloth was inspired by the work of spiders. The first design of kente was created for the Ashanti king hundreds of years ago. That original design is the most popular cloth and is considered the traditional design. It contains bright orange, blue, red and green threads and has multiple distinct patterns in one cloth.

I went a little kente crazy in bonwire as weavers throughout the town brought kente cloth, kente bags, even kente shoes for me to see.Every piece was a hand made masterpiece! Among all of my purchases was a long piece of kente cloth in the traditional colors. I wasn't sure what to do with it. It was suggested that I have it made into a straight dress. Good plan!

FIFA World Cup 2014 Nigerian Style

The world (excluding America) loves this sport called football. Because we have American football (E.A.G.L.E.S. EAGLES!! and oh yeah...WHO DAT) we call this game soccer. We also don't respect the game as much as the rest of the world. Strangely enough,  there is a large number of American children who are on soccer teams and grow up in a country that barely pays attention to the sport. Nigeria is different, these folks have football fever and I, an American who barely paid attention to the sport, was bitten by the bug.

In June and early July, everyone in Nigeria watched the Fifa World Cup 2014 in Brazil. In Ondo Nigeria, in the living room with Sister and her parents, I learned to appreciate the sport and love the world cup. The Nigerians were of course rooting for their national team the Super Eagles but everyone had a secondary country that they were also rooting for. In the beginning, my  favorites were USA (my home),  Nigeria ( my current location), and Ghana (where I'd travel in a few weeks). Then I added Brazil to the list, and any of the South American countries.

In Nigeria, when the Super Eagles played, you could here the neighbors' cheers in unison with your own. On Sunday at church, a young man testified how thankful he is that the Super Eagles won the last match.

 I watched one match in Lagos at a sports bar and the energy of the fans was addictive.  The bar was a sea of green and white and everyone sat on the edge of their seat as Nigeria played Argentina.

When the super eagles scored, everyone yelled and clapped and blew these small  horns that were deafening. The energy was electric! When the team made a bad move, they were scolded in Yoruba language by the masses. A few fans shook their fingers at the televisions as they yelled. One man said 'These players are lazy'. The same man was on his feet jumping when the Super Eagles scored their second point.  The rest of the crowd went wild, me included. In the end, Argentina won the game. The  Nigerian fans were happy with the performance of their team and excited that they still qualified for the next round. When the game ended, Nigerian music echoed through the bar and 2/3rds of the crowd were dancing. And yes, Nigerians know how to get down!

I also watched the final Nigerian Match in Lagos. This time, I was outside of my hotel watching the game on the front lawn with a crowd of anxious Nigerians. This match was not as successful as the last unfortunately, and half way through the game, as France scored its second point, half of the disappointed crowd dispersed. They didn't even want to see the rest of the game. A few people yelled at the exiting people in Yoruba. I assume that they were calling them out really bad. Because one of them yelled back in anger! One man at the bar looked as if he was fighting back tears and ordered another drink.  The remaining fans talked about the game's highlights and mistakes with so much passion. I admired all of the Nigerian fans for loving the sport and their team so much that they showed the entire range of emotions.

I continued watching the games in Ghana.  At this point, the US, Nigeria, and Ghana were out. I was now rooting for any of the South American teams. My favorites were Brazil, Argentina, and Columbia. In the end , Germany took the prize after 24 years and I became a huge fan of the world cup. Thanks for all the Nigerian and Ghanaians who taught me what football is all about.  Oh yeah, Shakira, Wyclef, and the amazing Carlos Santana's perfomances were the ish!!!! I can't wait til 2018!

Mosquito Rant

So there are mosquitoes and then there are African mosquitoes. Malaria is spread through a certain mosquito so I was told to take malaria pills and and use bug spray everyday. This post is not about malaria however, I've taken all precautioary measures and don't see it as a huge threat anymore.  The real threat is the normal non malaria carrying african bloodsuckers that have no mercy on me smdh.

First off, there are a select few gangsta mosquitoes in Nigeria that won't pay your punk a$$ bug spray any mind. Maybe they hold their breath when they bite you...or maybe they know they're going to die and want to go down in flames. I don't know but they need to chill big time. I'm amazed everytime I feel an ich somewhere that's covered in stinky repellent (with deet).  I also have bites from mosquitoes who search your body for a spot that you forgot to spray ( toes, elbows, ankles,back of knees, even hands) and have a feast on you. They don't even go after the Nigerians close by who dont use bug spray...No....they want the All American with the cajun spice in her blood...  If you think you are safe in the house, think again. They will bite you in your sleep, or while you're trying to have a conversation with someone...making you squirm mid sentence...like you have tourettes syndrome or something. They will hunt you down while you're in the shower , like little psychos. They will even call their homies so they can get you at once. Man they travel in gangs and wear blue and red scarves...they blast NWA when they are coming for you.  I tried to fight back, angrily  flinging my arms at the swarm...then I got bit on my hands (y'all know that's the worst part) . Now  i just run! Yep....don't judge me. I'm always scratching.... I've even considered wearing thick long sleeve sweaters.....in West Africa....in June...but guess what? They bite right though your clothes....

First Impressions

Tree: Igi ( Yoruba language)

First impressions are everything! The day I drove from Lagos to Ondo State in Nigeria was a memorable experience.  The next morning after arriving to Lagos Nigeria, we set out on our three hour journey to Ondo. Sister, Mummi Helen ( Sister's wonderful mother) and I sat in the back seat, hip to hip, as the talented driver rode us to our destination.  Here are a few things that I noticed on the way...

Beep Beep

If I had to drive in Nigeria, I would probably be dead. There is no yeilding, very few stop signs and traffic lights ( and  they are sometimes totally ignored) and get this...no speed limit. No one lets you merge in front of them, and if you drive slow, the other drivers fuss at you. Everyone uses their horn all the time and people will drive on the opposite side of the road until a car comes. When you add the presence of Okada's ( motorbikes) zooming in and out of any small space at extremely high speeds, you have the perfect recipe for an accident.  About 1/3 rd of my time in the car was spent closing my eyes so I wouldn't freak out. My body however jerked back and forth as the driver swerved around other cars.  So yeah...I screamed in terror once or twice. The only positives to driving in Nigeria is 1: if you can survive here, you could probably make a career out of being a stunt driver and 2: no tickets from the cops!!! Traffic tickets of any type don't even exist here. Man Nigerians are lucky!

Cities
Some people don't realize how developed Africa is. They believe everyone lives in huts or trees ( a Ghanaian friend was actually asked if he lived in trees). With the internet, we have no excuse for this type of ignorance but we get lots of our information from Television. The media's portrayal of Africa ( and lots of things) is awful. You see the "save the children" commercials or some refugee camp, or coverage of a tribal war and may  that everywhere in this huge place called Africa is just like these images. That would be the equivalent of believing that all Americans have  drug problems and should be locked away in prisons because you saw an episode of the The Wire. Dumb right??? Some Americans citizens are convinced however, when talking about a certain subgroup in the U.S.A but I digress....

 So Lagos Nigeria reminds me of the DMV ( DC, Maryland, Virginia area) in the states. There are huge skyscrapers, shopping malls, hotels, and a whole lot of traffic. There are sportsbars movie theaters, concert venues, restaurants, dance studios and everything else you'd see in a big city. I went grocery shopping at a shop rite and while I didn't spot any McDonald's (good job Nigeria), I saw multiple KFC's! I could insert a joke about chicken...but I won't. There are two parts of Lagos . There is Lagos the city and Lagos Island. They are separated by a river and reminds me of Virginia and DC being separated by the Potomac. This city is vibrant and all the construction tells me that this city is on the rise.

Trees
So in New Orleans and in other American cities, we use trees as decoration. You ride up a street that's popular with tourists and palm trees sit neatly in a row on medians or walkways.  The trees are like the jewelry of the street and the passersby looks up and say 'wow this street is pretty'. It reminds me of the old school train sets that come with train track pieces, and little plastic trees that you can place anywhere you like. This is not the case in West Africa. From my window I saw trees that stretched for miles, scraping the sky, wild and bountiful. Their presence was powerful!  I, the passerby/ tourist didn't think 'wow this is pretty' though its beauty is undeniable. As I drove past the multitudes of trees, some older than my grandparents or great grandparents, I was humbled.  Yes this big ole world is mine but I'm just a speck who will die while these trees continue to exist.

Soil
The soil in West Africa is different than in the  States. Its like a reddish brown shade that resembles clay.And it is extremely rich.  It coats your shoes and the bottoms of your trousers or dresses when you walk on the dirt roads. In Ghana, I visited multiple homes where you took your shoes off before entering. I understand why.

Drive-Thru
I know a man in Baltimore who works in a hotel restaurant as a busboy and on his days off he'd sell ice cold bottled waters on the side of the road during the summer. Its a common scene in the inner cities of America.   In West Africa, you can buy water, soda, snacks, calling cards,  chewing gum, sunglasses, eggs, bread, cooking oil, vegetables, anything and everything on the side of the road. The most interesting thing I've seen being sold roadside...toilet paper ......socks ...watches. The roadside food is my favorite part. You can buy plaintain chips, roasted corn, bean cakes, even kebobs. The vendors are mostly females who carry the food/drinks in buckets on their heads. I'm amazed at how the women can carry so much and still move gracefully from car to car. Some with bouncy babies wrapped tightly on their backs!  If you have any doubt about the strength of a woman, stand on any busy street in West Africa and watch these woman work.

Pssssst....
I you are a young female walking through an urban area you've heard the 'Psssst ' usually followed by a 'come here' or 'yo baby' or whatever clever thing the dude thinks of to make you stop and talk to him. Many woman like myself will ignore their cat calls. If someone wants to get your attention in West Africa, especially if they want to sell you something, they will make a sound similar to a snakes hiss....'sssssssssssssss '. It sounds very similar to the first sound,  but don't worry.  I promise when you turn around, you'll likely see a friendly vendor selling goods, instead of a thug with braids and gold teeth licking his lips.

Gates and Doors
In the USA, we probably all have the same type of door. It may be a different color but  its most likely made out of wood and is probably the same size. Yes !!! we have something in common!!! (*Cabbage patch*) We probably have similar gates as well. There is the picket fence, the cement gate, and the wired gate with the diamond pattern. I guess we are more creative with the contents of the home and dont think too much of doors and gates. In the middle and upper middle class neighborhoods of Ghana and Nigeria, you see some very creative doors and gates. They range in size and color. Some have pictures on them, others are highly decorative. I rode down one street in Nigeria and every home had a highly ornate door/gate. It was hard to determine which one was the best. I guess these folks believe in making an impression right from the door!

After making it to Ondo town, I drop my bags relax and laugh about my discoveries.

The Arrival

Sister: aburo obinrin (Yoruba: language of the Yoruba tribe in Nigeria.)

 My Journey to Nigeria was delightful every step of the way.  From Philadelphia, I boarded my overnight British Airways flight to Heathrow airport in London. I've heard about the perks of flying internationally but to have finally experienced them firsthand was wonderful. As I strolled up the aisles in search of my seat I noticed each chair contained  a blanket, pillow, and a red plastic pouch. Inside the red pouch were headphones, earplugs, and a toothbrush.  I also received two meals while on board. I spent the 5 hour flight sleeping.

I arrived at Heathrow airport at 10:20 am. My connecting flight to Nigeria was scheduled to leave in a little over an hour.  Heathrow however is a huge airport. I scrambled through various security checkpoints, flashing my passport constantly... as if I was part of law enforcement. I stand in a huge line to rescan my bag...remove my shoes... yada yada. I'm  a bit nervous of missing my flight. At  this point I have about 25 minutes before my plane leaves. I finally go through security and run towards my gate. I'm relieved when I see a crowd of Nigerians waiting to board. So...my flight to London was about 92% Caucasian. My flight to Nigeria was 98% Nigerian. Ive never been on a flight where the majority were people of color until now. Once everyone found their seats we were on our way. How lucky was I to get a window seat.*cue Erykah Badu please...thanks*

I flew over the Mediterranean sea  and smiled. The greenish blue water with a  lovely glow, flashed through the cloud filled sky. I wanted to touch it and decided at that moment....one day... this beautiful sea and I would meet.  My first view of Africa was  the lovely Sahara Desert. The reddish gold sand took my breath away. There were these funky  waves throughout the sand that looked as if God scribbled them with His finger in boredom.  What a mighty God to make masterpieces out of sand and...dust. I thank Him immediately and shed a tear or two. The days, weeks, months leading up to this moment have been rough..but what do the church folks say? ..His grace is sufficient...that's it... Amen.

So we leave the desert and the next aerial  view is greenery. This green may exist in a crayola box somewhere but "African Greenery green" is a sight to see. Maybe it has something to do with the large mass of trees standing shoulder to shoulder, competing for the Sunlight...maybe it was the rain making all the limbs of these trees shine...maybe it was my own jet lagged pupils...but I've never seen green like this. The "African Greenery green" stretched for hundreds of miles and continued as we entered Nigeria.

I forget exactly when I met my Nigerian friend that I called my lil sis, but I know it involved student government board in college. One thing that I admired about 'sister' ( she will be called this in all future posts) was the way she carried herself. She didn't speak much but commanded attention anyway. She was a very regal and powerful young lady. After hanging out a few times, I realized sister was also extremely intelligent. This girl studied biochemistry, designed websites for clients, and created a her own nonprofit foundation.

Sister told me all about Nigeria. We'd talk for hours about differences and similarities between our cultures and ways to bring our cultures together. We'd also talk about me visiting Nigeria. She'd say that all I needed was the ticket and that I would be taken care of. I kept telling her that I was coming and 9 years later...I have finally arrived.

When I land in Nigeria, I have a series of tasks to accomplish that seemed pretty easy. Go through customs...call sister...get your luggage...and exchange some of your currency. Welp... it wasn't as easy as I thought, I felt like a preschool aged child once I stepped foot in the very busy high speed Murtala Airport.  Thank God I befriended my neighbor on the plane ( a fellow nigerian)  who was nice enough to help the 4 year old American girl. Toby was a middle aged Nigerian who lived in the Netherlands and was visiting family for a few weeks.

The line through customs was extremely long. When I reached a customs agent, I was told that I must fill out a form and jump back in the line. After getting through customs, I went to claim my bags. Toby was able to help me grab one bag, but an hour later, we realize that my second bag had not made it to Nigeria yet (smh).

The currency exchange was pretty harmless. The official exchange rate was 167 naira for each dollar. The rate of the woman exchanging the money was 165. Toby asked the woman why her rate was lower than the official rate? She responded "it just changed". Its hard for four year olds to call others out on their bullshit so I just handed Toby 20 bucks to exchange. In return I received 3,300 Naira!  BALLIN!!!

 Ok...I must call sister...but my phone is dead and Toby's phone from the Netherlands is not allowing the call to go through. Toby suggests that I pay one of the many guys soliciting all types of services,  to use their phone. I choose  "Random Nigerian dude" and ask to use his phone.... he doesn't understand what I'm saying...not because he doesn't understand English...just not this Americanized English laced with urban additives that I was speaking. Toby steps in to help the four year old and "Random Nigerian dude" hands me his phone. I call sister and pay Random Nigerian dude 100 naira. He looks at me like I'm crazy and at this moment I realize I'm not " ballin" as I thought. I give him an extra 100 naira" and walk out to meet sister.

We screamed and gave each other a big hug. We joked about how we both look the same, even though its been five years.Sister  brought her mother to meet me as well. Her mother gives me a warm smile and says "welcome" . I felt deep in my gut, the most genuine welcome I've ever received. I am beyond excited! We sleep at a guesthouse for the evening and I, for the first time, close my eyes in Africa. I Thank God for traveling mercies and for scribbling me out of dust and I fall asleep...

The 4th

Anigyee: celebration (twi: the language of the Ashanti tribe)

Happy Independence Day to all Americans out there. The '4th of July' or simply 'the 4th', means cookouts, watching fireworks and being with family and friends.

The irony of  celebrating  independence of a country that was stolen from its true natives and filled with slaves from a distant land goes best with hot dogs ....relish please....and a little bit o' mustard. Its ...bittersweet.

l arrived to  Nigeria and Ghana during their Independence Day holidays.

Three  days ago, on July 1st, I left Nigeria and arrived in Accra, the capital of Ghana. July 1st is Ghana's Republic Day. It marks the day in which Ghana became independent from British rule back in 1957,and built the Republic in 1960. Ghana was actually the first African country to gain independence from colonial rule in Africa. To my fellow black Americans, after they took us away in chains, our precious motherland ( with the exception of Ethiopia and Liberia) was colonized by European powers.

Here's a quick version of the story. See what had happened was...(lol) The biggest European powers had a series of meetings in which they divided the entire African Continent amongst themselves. ( google the Berlin Conference) Think of it as a serious game of monopoly played between countries. Except they were trying to put down their little blue houses on already inhabited African lands and unfortunately these inhabitants were not at the table.

After the French,Portuguese, British, German, Italian and others claimed their turf, they went to war with these African countries, resulting in 90% of Africa under European rule by 1902.  Things fall apart ....smh.

Anyways I arrived to Ghana on Republic Day!  Once In Ghana I was greeted by warm airport employees welcoming me. There were also multiple signs that said "Akwaaaba: welcome to Ghana." I go through customs, collect my bag and meet my friend who is waiting patiently for me.

In college I befriended  some really awesome  African students. I imagine them seeing this Afrocentric girl with very little substantial information on Africa (uhhhm wikipedia.....random Google searches..... Roots, Sarafina the movie....Kwanzaa celebrations... and scraps of facts collected during black history month) and teaching me what their culture was actually about. To all those friends, I appreciate you. Your stories inspired me to take this journey.  Thank you for sharing them with the misinformed black american! 

One of these African students was a Ghanaian named Emmanuel. My outfits of choice in college were T-shirts, flip flops and a blue jeans. Emmanuel however, would wear dress shirts polos and sometimes suits to class. Because of his professionalism, everyone took  him seriously. He is now a successful businessman,  married with children in the States. 

I contacted Emmanuel about the  possibility of me visiting Ghana. He immediately put me in touch with his family members there. His cousin was my maim contact, a young man I will call Wednesday in this blog. 

So Wednesday was patiently waiting  when I arrived in Ghana with one of his buddies. Wednesday is a calm mature family man. Although he has no children of his own, he is really fond of his family members and specifically his niece and nephew here in Ghana. 

Wednesday lives in Kumasi which is four hours away from Accra. I will stay in Wednesday's family home for a week. We get in Wednesday's red Honda and  are on our way to Kumasi. 

The vibe of the Ghanaians I came in contact with on Republic Day was chill. The common message was, "things aren't perfect but we're going  to celebrate and have a good time". This is how we do it in the states as well. 

Thank God, that the only constant in the world is change. So...Ahem...this is a toast to all the beautiful people of the world( my African drink of choice is palm wine).  Cheers to the fight against oppression, suppression, corruption and  imperialism. Let freedom ring and bottoms up!

I'm in Africa y'all!

Flying into Accra, Ghana

So....I'm in Africa. Hell Yeah!!! I have just arrived to Ghana two days ago, but I've been in Nigeria for a little over a month. I thought about writing a blog about my experiences and didn't commit to it. Now after a month of being in 'Da Motherland' and having such rich experiences I am dying to share them. Now, working on serious "cp time", I present to you...this travel blog.

 You may be wondering who the heck I am.  Welp...uhmmm...good question.  I'm a black chick from America....with a very black name. Yes... all prospective employers will know I'm a black candidate before the interview ( that's if they decide that they want to interview me) And I'm proud of it. Pride is a big part of who I am and big a reason why I've always dreamt of coming to Africa.

We all know the story of how blacks were brought to America right?  Our ancestors were  stolen from their home in Africa, packed tighter than sardines on slave ships and shipped to this new land as slaves. These Africans and their descendants were to be permanent fixtures in the American economy. That was the plan. That plan,  however,  died in the late 18th century R.I.P sucka! because those Africans never stopped fighting for freedom. This spirit of resistance which continues  today is  what makes me so proud.

I was born in Camden NJ an inner city ( for non Americans, this is the politically correct name for black american slums. Some not so P.C. words are Ghettos and 'the hood'. I personally like calling it 'the hood')  and was raised in both Camden NJ and Philadelphia PA. This pride of my history and heritage  was spoon fed to me by my community.

 In my underfunded , still very segregated public schools, I learned about slavery, the  civil rights movement and the black power movement. I digested story after story of black Americans fighting for better despite the awful circumstances and experiencing victory in the end. We sang negro spirituals and  recited Langston Hughes poems  for Black history month assemblies. We dressed in kente cloth and learned complex African dances step by step. In these overcrowded class rooms, filled with poor and working class children,  my educators taught me to love my heritage and myself. I ate well.

I was obsessed with my older sisters and big cousins. In my mind, they were the coolest girls ever.  They were confident,  tough and beautiful. I wanted to be just like them. I still do. They loved this music called "hip hop" and would blast it from boom boxes in low income housing windows so loud, that I could feel the bass deep in my chest. I would dance to the sophisticated  beats and scream the rich lyrics through buck teeth. "Fight the power".  They'd laugh and cheer me on.

My mother took me to the Black bookstore  when I was a child, and every time she picked up the newest J. California Cooper or Terri McMillan Novel, I was allowed to pick one book from the children's section. I chose books with titles like "Thank you Dr. Martin Luther King" , and stories of self love, books with brown faces and kinky hair and I'd read them from cover to cover.
My mother was also a big movie fan. We had the biggest collection of vhs tapes in the family. On weekends my mother  and I  would have movie  marathons. Our favorites were the Color Purple, Tina turner's biography "What's  love got to do with it " and " Waiting to exhale". All three movies featured strong black women who beat all odds and survived.  The 90's was actually a great time for black cinema and TV. Now,  we only have few options Spike Lee , Tyler Perry, and the no longer black owned BET are the only major options we have.

 Africa was a common subject in church, the laundromat, and even the nail salon especially during Black history month. There were those who'd say things like " we were once Kings and Queens and look at us now" or " Africans sold us to the white man, so I don't trust them" and everything in between. What was universal was a certain respect of this Continent where we came from and a curiosity of what it would be like to "return to your roots".

The experiences above are just a few highlights that created this Afrocentric dreds wearing, College educated, slang slinging, black chick ( with a black name) who is currently in Ghana. Its really a dream come true. I'm so very grateful. So that's a loooong intro into who I am and why I'm proud.

A few other things about me...hmmmm...I'm kinda quirky,  all of the studying of my cool sisters and cousins has not helped me at all. I'm awkward as hell! I live in the amazing  city of New Orleans. I'm 29 years old ( yes I'm frightened of 30) no kids, no significant other (that will be another blog entry). I work two jobs in the service industry and I'm trying to find my footing in this world.

This blog will be a culmination of my experiences in West Africa. Maybe this blog will help someone who always wanted to visit finally buy a ticket. YOLO! Please feel free to send any questions or feedback. I hope y'all enjoy.