First day Screemo

I arrived in Ghana not even two weeks ago, excited yet tense and nervous to see how I would adjust in a new environment. I am 16 years old, only in Ghana a little longer than 3 weeks but ready to experience a new lifestyle and interact and volunteer somewhere different. I spent my first night in the Accra airport, sharing my sleeping bench with a stranger. As I arrived in Ho the next morning, a swarm of locals welcomed me as I stepped out of the bus. It was my first day in Ghana and I was amazed how street sellers had the ability to balance baskets, bowls, bags or even eggs on their head. When I arrived in Ho, I met the volunteers as they welcomed me with Hardcore Screemo music. I felt at home already.

My first day I played in a soccer tournament at McCollins school, a school nearby. Even though we got crushed in soccer and John hurt his leg, it was a good first day bonding experience. We took off to the weekend and fed monkeys as they jumped on our bodies and we swam in a waterfall after a long hike. When we arrived at the waterfall, there was a man that took John's hurt leg and cut slits in it with a blade. Then he took a bull horn to suction out all the blood sitting under his skin and then scrubbed the flesh of his cut with a lime. The difference between certain villages health remedies and healthcare in the U.S. is tremendous. Sunday, Some of the volunteers and myself decided to attend a church service. Although it was a long service, we were awakened by learning how to dance local dances and returning the favor by showing them some dances from back home.  On the Monday after my first weekend, I started my first day at Safiefe Deme, teaching a 6th grade class. I had the class to myself with no teacher. I taught them about all different sciences before I gave them a quiz that later would be graded.

Everday I eat lunch at Charles house. Everybody in the community welcomes me all day by saying "Woezoa"(welcome) "Eh Foa"(How are you?) "Pemeto"(How is the house?) etc. I can't help but reply in Ewe, their local language. Somedays at break in Safiefe Deme, the students teach me Ewe, by forcing me to read aloud chapter books as they translate. Working in the school system has been helping me pick up on their language pretty quickly.

This week I attended my first funeral of a young woman. Before the funeral started, some women in the community sang and danced around the body before the casket was closed.  Everybody sang and most men played the drums. I didnt see anybody cry until the body was placed underground. Close family wept as others stood beside them playing the drums. Other than that part of the funeral, the vibe of it all seemed positive with the singing and dancing.

This weekend we are off to cape coast to tour the castle, jump in the waves at the beach, and go to Kamkum, for a cannopy walk in the tree tops. Until then!

Brian