ty writes

From Midland to Oxford

2010-09-01T00:32:00.012-04:00

The Year Ahead

As a West Point cadet, the end of summer meant the end of freedom. Yet now that I've tossed the hat, this coming Fall brings something far different than the gray walls of USMA.

During the 2010-11 academic year, I'll be studying as a Rotary Ambassadorial Scholar at Oxford University. I'll be reading for a one year Masters degree in African Studies. My choice to study Africa was largely inspired by my volunteer experience in Ghana in 2009.

There's much more to be said about this wonderful opportunity that my local Rotary district has made possible for me, and how I plan to make the most of the experience. So much, in fact, that I've started a new blog: Oxford Tales.

Follow it this year at: http://oxfordtales.wordpress.com

The blog's primary audience is the people in mid-Michigan - family and friends in Midland, and especially Rotarians in District 6310 - who are supporting me during this scholarship period. Please check it out here. Thanks for reading.

Rafiki: Friend

2010-08-09T06:47:00.011-04:00

More than a Name

Rounding out the Swahili words I was familiar with prior to Tanzania is the simple word "rafiki." Rafiki means more than just the name of the wise, prophetic monkey in the Disney movie. It means "friend."

Like in Ghana, Tanzania was a remarkably friendly country, with well-intentioned strangers everywhere, ready to lend a hand or help where possible. Relationships in Tanzania are born first from conversations and lengthy greetings, then by common interests and purposes. In Tanzania, I made a number of great friends that will not soon escape my memory. But, as tends to be typical of me, my most memorable friends were those I played soccer with: Jakob and Castro.

Castro

When my small plane landed in Mwanza, my backpack and I skipped the baggage-claim hassles and went straight to the streets, where a taxi-driver asked if I needed a lift. He introduced himself as 'Castro' (maybe not a typical Swahili name), and proceeded to drive me to my hotel on Lake Victoria. Along the way, we talked soccer, and arranged to meet later in the day to go out to the soccer fields by the airport. I wanted to watch some good soccer in northern Tanzania. Castro had other plans for me.

After I arrived, Castro handed me his cleats, and showed me his ankle. "Swollen, see? Injured last week." While he hobbled around as the referee, I put his cleats to use and played striker on his team. Through soccer - which remains the one global language that transcends verbiage or grammar patterns - Castro welcomed me into his group of friends. No longer seen solely as a 'Mzungu', I was now a rafiki. And I was invited to return the next day to take part in a more official match.

Jakob

How's this for a random act of kindness: walk a wandering stranger through your village for 20 minutes to get back to the main road. Show him your home. Ensure his safety. Translate for him when necessary. Jakob - my 15 year old impromptu tour guide in Mwanza - did all of these things for me, the lost, aimlessly wandering white guy who stumbled upon his village. On the walk, he showed me his home, introduced me to his brothers, and made sure my valuables were out of sight when we walked through the crowded part of his neighborhood. Through some Swahinglish, we exchanged life stories over a Coke once we returned to the main road. His showcased his soccer skills for us, juggling a soccer ball made from plastic bags, a rock in the middle, and fishing-wire.

Safari: the Journey

2010-08-09T05:41:00.005-04:00

The Swahili word 'safari' means to embark on a journey. To go away. To move between two points. Thus, you can have a successful safari without seeing lions, elephants, or giraffes. And in Tanzania, the thrill of the safari is the process of the journey itself. Like life, the safari is not about the destination so much as it is about the ride itself.

With this meaning in mind, I went on several safaris over the course of my stay in Tanzania.

Zanzibar

It started with a two hour ferry ride across a sliver of the Indian Ocean to arrive at the turquoise waters off the Zanzibar coast, and ended with a terrifying 12-seater flight back to point A three days later. As the previous post describes in detail, my journey to Zanzibar was a weekend I'll never forget.

Mwanza > Musoma > Arusha > Dar es Salaam (by bus)

The second largest city in Tanzania, settled on the southernmost point of Lake Victoria, Mwanza made a great stopping point during my trip's second safari. The city itself is pleasant; smaller and more spread out than Dar es Salaam, it has a more communal feel than either Arusha or Dar. Capri Point provides a nice spot to look out over the fishing boats and trading vessels traveling across Africa's largest lake, and the market - accessible and friendly - shows the life of the city.

People often provide the defining memories of a safari. And the Tanzanians I got to know in Mwanza were truly gracious and welcoming. I was invited to join the airport's soccer team - consisting of taxi drivers who shuttle foreigners from the airport to the nicer hotels in town and several airport employees. Though I didn't produce a goal, I was able to provide an assist en route to a 2-2 draw against another local team. Our team wore Manchester United replica jerseys (completing my transfer from Arsenal to Manchester United; see last summer's post from Ghana). Lake Victoria was beautiful, and Mwanza was an excellent launching point for my safari back to Dar.

From Mwanza, I took three bus rides in three days to return to Dar es Salaam. My safari took me first north to the fishing town of Musoma, then back east via the Serengeti to Arusha, and finally southwest past Mount Kilimanjaro back to Dar es Salaam. After spending 25 hours on a bus in 3 days, I emerged with a new appreciation for paved roads and deodorant, as well as several new friends and fun stories from the journey across Tanzania. It was truly a great safari, and the highlight of my trip.

The Mzungu Safari...

With 18 days in country, I was able to spend some time on what a Westerner ("Mzungu) considers a true 'safari' - driving around for hours in hopes of seeing some of nature's most incredible creatures in the wild, before they run off at the sight and sound of a vehicle. With friends from the embassy, I traveled to Mikumi National Park, a small game reserve a few hours southwest of Dar, which proved to be a very inexpensive yet successful alternative to the Serengeti. And, as mentioned, my safari from Mwanza to Dar took me on a micro-safari through the Sergenti itself, though my bus-driver's break-neck race-pace down a road full of pot-holes and gravel sent the herds of zebras scurrying and kept the larger game out of sight. Still, seeing these animals in the wild - whether at Kruger in South Africa or Mikumi in Tanzania - is truly awe-inspiring.

Hakuna Matata: Zanzibar

2010-08-09T05:05:00.004-04:00

"Hakuna Matata."

I can say with confidence that this wonderful (Swahili) phrase, meaning "no worries," was the first I fully internalized. I suppose I owe my thanks mostly to Timon and Pumba of The Lion King. But if the Disney movie taught me what the phrase meant, Zanzibar showed me.

White sand beaches. Narrow, winding alleyways. Silhouettes of dhows sailing on turquoise water against orange-pastel sunsets. Everything about Zanzibar is exotic and welcoming. And to cap it all off, the phrase "Hakuna Matata" not only embodies the island's pace and way of life, but surfaces regularly in conversations.

I found this phrase remarkably easy to incorporate into my exchanges with the locals during my 72 hour stay on the island...

-Bad pass on the beach-side soccer field? No worries. "Hakuna Matata."

-No, I don't need a taxi, a tour-guide, or a porter. Just walking. "Hakuna Matata."

-You're trying to sell me that painting for three times what it's worth? I'm not buying it, but "Hakuna Matata" anyway.

-No idea what I'm saying in English? I can't understand your Swahili, either. "Hakuna Matata" (and a smile).

Making the most of Zanzibar

Language-training aside, my stay in Zanzibar was superb. Zanzibaris are understandably welcoming to the tourists and foreigners who are driving their economy. And tourists who came to Tanzania to relax could easily spend a week in Zanzibar: the beaches on the east coast are pristine. Snorkeling, sailing trips, and tours of the island's spices are easy to arrange. And Stone Town has enough to fill several days worth of historical sight-seeing alone.

With just two full days and a morning in Zanzibar, I spent a night on a quiet beach on the east coast in the pleasant village of Jambiani, spent Saturday evening walking the winding alleys of Stone Town and eating at Foradhani Gardens, and spent Sunday touring the Old Slave Market at the Anglican Church as well as the old Palace Museums. And if soccer is your sport, as it is mine, then stopping by the sporting grounds to join a pick-up game is an absolute must.

If I could do Zanzibar all over again, I wouldn't have done anything differently. Except, perhaps, pick up a bit more Swahili than just the one phrase. But no worries. "Hakuna Matata."

My Crash Course in Swahili

2010-08-09T04:20:00.005-04:00

Tanzania: my introduction to East Africa.

Having traveled to West and Southern Africa, I found myself wanting to experience the culture on the Swahili Coast. Time allowed for a three week trip to Tanzania, a country world-famous for its game parks (notably the Serengeti), Africa's highest peak in Mount Kilimanjaro, and its white-sand beaches.

Yet after a couple of days on the ground in-country, warning signs appeared that my choice to visit Tanzania would produce two unfortunate and closely linked consequences: high costs and tourists.

The costs of tourists.

You would think that in a region of the world - Sub-Saharan Africa - where 50% of the population makes less than $1 a day, costs of travel and food would be cheaper than in the West. Not so in Dar es Salaam, the commercial capital of the country. Nor is it so in Arusha, the tourist-capital of the country. Nor in Zanzibar, the beautiful and historic island a two hour ferry ride off the coast. See the trend?

Because of Tanzania's popularity as a tourist destination, prices in urban centers - especially in areas where Mzungu (foreigners) are likely to be present - rival the costs of living in the suburbs of a US city.

"If I wanted to relax, I would not have come to Africa."

The second consequence happens to be the tourists themselves. It's difficult to enjoy parts of the country simply because of the population density of foreigners, eager to take advantage of the white sands, the views, and the wildlife, without the slightest interest in the history and the people of Tanzania.

As a result, taxi drivers, hotel managers, and travel agents flocked to me over the course of my time in Tanzania, eager to tell me where I could go to 'relax.' But that wasn't the purpose of my trip. As Paul Theroux puts it in his travel memoir Dark Star Safari, "If I wanted to relax I would not have come to Africa." Rather than relax with the other foreigners on the white-sand beaches a stone's throw from barefoot children living in homes made of mud, I wanted to see the real Tanzania. Ultimately, it would require leaving the urban centers entirely.

Still, despite the negative externalities of my choice to visit Tanzania, the benefits outweighed the costs in the end, and the country's people, history, and culture left me with yet another unforgettable visit to Africa. It was a crash-course in Swahili, where I learned new phrases and realized that I already had some of the language built into my vocabulary.

Hakuna Matata, Rafiki, Safari.

Those three Swahili concepts account for the better memories of my time spent in East Africa. In the next three posts, I'll elaborate on each one.

Arizona: Grand Canyon

2010-07-25T12:16:00.006-04:00

I've seen some awesome sights in some extraordinary places: the Swiss Alps, the South African Savannah, the beaches of Ghana. But nothing I've seen compares to the Grand Canyon in Arizona. The sheer scale of the Canyon and its intricate rock faces against the backdrop of the wide clear blue sky are simply incredible, and leave you breathless.

Of course, I enjoyed these views with Jordan, so my experience is probably a bit biased in the positive direction. Still, the Grand Canyon was one of the most incredible places I've ever been.

World Cup Week 2 Recap

2010-06-30T14:44:00.007-04:00

Our second week of the World Cup was stellar. Of the eight teams we watched play in the last four games, four would go on to make the quarterfinals (which kick off Friday July 2). We were also able to witness live what many are calling one of the best sports moments in World Cup history on Wednesday, June 23.

Sunday June 20 - Brazil v Ivory Coast.

The appeal to this game was straightforward: the world's best team against Africa's best team, live in the biggest stadium in Johannesburg. Brazil, FIFA's number one ranked team going into the tournament, were the favorites against the Ivory Coast squad, and proved their superiority in an impressive 3-1 win. The game's atmosphere was stellar. South Africans mostly supported their fellow African side, a team that features Didier Drogba who plays for the English Premier League club Chelsea. There was no shortage of incredible talent on the field, and also no shortage of great goals in the match. It lived up to our expectation as one of the best games we were able to see in South Africa.

Monday June 21 - Spain v Honduras.

The Spain-Honduras game was one of our late additions. When we realized that the Spain game was at Ellis Park on a day where we had no other games planned, and tickets became available, we instantly decided it was an opportunity too good to pass up. We had better seats for the match than any of our other games, and watched as Spain regained its form and beat Honduras 2-0. David Villa scored two incredible goals, and Spain showcased soccer at its finest. Of the teams we were able to see play, Spain was probably the most enjoyable side to watch.

Wednesday June 23 - USA v Algeria.

In terms of excitement, I would put being in the stadium Pretoria in the 92nd minute of this match up against any other exciting moment of my life so far, including the hat-toss at West Point just a month earlier. It took 90 minutes of soccer plus 90 seconds of injury time for the US to get the goal it needed to stay alive in the tournament. But when it finally happened, the crowd erupted into a moment of complete euphoria. We hugged everyone wearing red, white, and blue, and celebrated the goal like true fanatics. It helped that my favorite US player Landon Donovan scored the goal, too.

What made the evening even more exciting, however, was the blitz out of the stadium, as Logan and I sprinted to meet our host, Mr. Verwey, as we prepared to drive to from Pretoria to Joburg for the night game at Soccer City.

3 hours later... - Germany v. Ghana.

Our original itinerary didn't feature this double header; we had planned only to attend to the Germany-Ghana game. Yet when tickets became available for the USA-Algeria match just an hour away from Soccer City, we knew we had to try to make the quick trip and experience both games in the span of just over six hours. And in the end, it was a great decision. Germany, Logan's favorite non-US team, played brilliantly and got the win they needed to top the group and advance to the elimination stages. Meanwhile, Ghana also advanced out of Group D, and thus prepared to square off against the US in the round of 16. We were happy with both results. And seeing another night game in Soccer City was the perfect exclamation point on our World Cup experience.

And so ended our World Cup run: in 11 days we saw eight games live in three different stadiums in Johannesburg and Pretoria. Expensive? Yes. Worth every dime? Absolutely. The chance to watch the world's game at its highest level in Africa was the experience of a lifetime for the two of us. It was a trip we'll never forget.

World Cup Week 1 Recap

2010-06-19T10:49:00.010-04:00

Logan and I are half way through our World Cup dream-trip. So far we've seen four games. Blogging has been difficult here... the World Cup coverage is 24/7, so Logan and I are taking full advantage. Here's a quick recap of our action here so far.

Sunday June 13 - Ghana v Serbia.
Our first live World Cup game, we ordered tickets to this match because of my support of the "Black Stars" after my time spent in Ghana last summer. The Ghanaian crowd was incredible. Ghana flags flew proudly throughout the stadium, drums played alongside the vuvuzelas, and the match provided some tremendous action. In the final minutes Ghana broke the deadlock by scoring a penalty kick. They went onto win, making them the first African team to win a game in the first World Cup on African soil. Appropriate post-game celebrations followed, as fans from Ghana and South Africa stayed long after the final whistle to celebrate and cheer on the players, who acted as if they had just won the World Cup. We enjoyed the game at the Luftus Versfeld Stadium in Pretoria, a phenomenal venue. It was a great World Cup debut.

Monday June 14 - Netherlands v Denmark.
Our second game was Holland v Denmark on Monday. This was a hugely anticipated game in the group-stage, which made it exciting to watch. The highlight for us may have been just taking in the sights, sounds, and sheer size of 'Soccer City' in Johannesburg. 83,000 fans were present for the match, mostly South Africans and Dutch supporters. We cheered on the Dutch in our orange as well. Holland had the clear advantage going in - in support, in skill, and even in the chairs in Soccer City (which are painted orange). They went on to win the game 2-0, and Logan and I enjoyed it from great seats in the lower-level. This was the first of four games we have at Soccer City while here.

Thursday June 17 - Argentina v South Korea.
Lionel Messi is one of the most entertaining players in the world to watch, which is why Logan and I ordered tickets to the Argentina v Korea fixture Thursday. Our seats were in the highest section, which gave us more of a tactical perspective on the match than the more typical up-close-and-personal action shots you get when you watch a game live. The game was of huge importance to both teams, as they entered tied at the top of the table in Group B. Messi was spectacular, and was involved in each of Argentina's four goals. The Argentine's won 4-1 in a match that was hugely entertaining to watch. 82,000 fans were on hand, with most supporting Messi's Argentina.

Friday June 18 - USA v Slovenia.
USA-Slovenia was our most anticipated match coming into the tournament, as we were psyched to get the chance to cheer on the Yanks in person. We woke up nervous Friday morning, both knowing that the US could not afford to lose to Slovenia, or their tournament would effectively be over. Our South African hosts came with us to the match as well, which made it that much more exciting for all of us. We had incredible seats - eight rows up from the action. The only down side was the way the first half unfolded. Slovenia scored twice. All of a sudden, our high hopes for the US side seemed pretty bleak. But my favorite US player, Landon Donovan, provided the spark three minutes after halftime with a great goal to turn things around. All of a sudden the crowd was alive and optimistic, though still on edge. Michael Bradley's late goal brought euphoria to the mostly pro-American crowd, and Maurice Edu's late goal would likely have caused celebratory riots had it not been called back. Still, a 2-2 draw was satisfying. The US lives to play another day (Wednesday, vs Algeria). The good news? Logan and I bought tickets to the Algeria game in Pretoria. We can't wait.

And that's how it stands after our first four matches. We used our better judgment and decided to purchase extra tickets to US-Algeria and Spain-Honduras this week, meaning we're just half way through our games. Lots more pictures, stories, and memories to come.

Kruger Park Safaris

2010-06-14T18:16:00.002-04:00

I didn’t expect to have a staring contest with an elephant on this trip. Our time in South Africa was intended to revolve around the World Cup. But with three full days to travel and settle-in before our first live game Sunday afternoon, our hosts decided to surprise us with a trip north. Cue the elephants.

More accurately: cue the animal kingdom.

During our first Safari Thursday afternoon, we saw four of the ‘big five’ in less than three hours. Elephants, rhinos, leopards, and buffaloes were among the incredible animals we saw. At times, we sat and waited as elephants crossed the road in front of us. We watched giraffes eat from treetops, zebras and impalas grazed in the open plains, and hippos splashed around in the water. Baboons and hyenas made their way along the sides of the roads we drove down, taking no interest in our vehicle.

At times it felt like I was dreaming. Songs from the soundtrack of The Lion King made their way through our heads, as we took in the phenomenal scenery and unbelievable wildlife. The soccer games will likely still be the highlight of this trip for us. But my staring contests with the elephants, giraffes, and buffalo of Kruger Park are engraved in my memory forever.

To prove that a) I wasn’t dreaming, and b) I’m not making this up, I’ve posted the best pictures from our time on Safari below. Enjoy!

Bafana's Opening Match Fan-Fest

2010-06-14T17:50:00.005-04:00

"Viva Bafana Bafana!"

Logan and I didn’t have tickets to the opening match of the World Cup. And in some ways, I’m glad. The experience we enjoyed at a gathering of some 30,000 South African locals in the northeastern part of the country was one that I’ll never forget.

South Africans, who had been anticipating the start of this World Cup since they were named the 2010 hosts six years ago, woke up Friday morning ready to support their home side. Gardeners, shop-keepers, taxi drivers and everyone in between wore their yellow and green jerseys. South African flags lined the streets, hung in store windows, and flew on cars throughout the country.

We watched the opening match at a rugby stadium in Nelspruit, one of the host cities. Arriving a few hours before game-time, we bought some replica South African jerseys, and prepared for the most anticipated soccer game ever to be played on African soil. Prior to the game we watched the official opening ceremonies for the tournament, and as it neared game time the stands and playing surface of the Nelspruit stadium became entirely jam-packed, shoulder to shoulder with South Africans. Game on.

The match didn’t disappoint. South Africa’s team, nicknamed “Bafana Bafana,” had the entire country behind them, including the fan-fest’s crowd. With Vuvuzelas blaring, the fans danced and cheered through a scoreless first half. Logan and I made friends with a few locals and enjoyed the passion in the stadium as South Africans savored the moment.

When the second half started, we made our way to the middle of the mayhem to take pictures of the scene. As we started to move back towards our seats, we caught a glimpse of the play building up on the big screen: a South African player broke loose with the ball in the mid-field, and played it through to a Striker who received it well in space. Two beautiful touches later, the ball was in the back of the net. South Africa’s team – the unlikely underdogs – shocked Mexico and scored the first goal of the tournament in beautiful fashion.

It was at that moment that Logan and I were given a true South African welcome to the World Cup. I watched a grown man, cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth, jump on my younger brother – throwing his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. Logan – unfazed – proceeded to twirl the two of them in circles, cheering uncontrollably. It would have made a great picture; and I would have taken it, had I not been in the middle of a series of my own hugs and screams of “Viva, Bafana! Bafana!”

The colorful crowd, the proud flags, and the ear-shattering noise set the tone for an exciting World Cup in which the home team will be a true competitor. Enjoy the pictures!

Welcome to Johannesburg

2010-06-12T12:25:00.007-04:00

After four flights and 48 hours of travel time, Logan and I finally made it to South Africa Wednesday morning. We arrived 12 hours later than we had originally planned. Even so, we arrived in high spirits.

The kink in the itinerary was in Detroit. Maintenance problems with the plane led to a five hour delay (serious problems, right?). As we were leaving Detroit, our best case scenario - according to Delta - was a connection through Atlanta that would get us to South Africa on Friday, three days later than planned, and after the opening match. Imagine our excitement when we were told that we had nothing to worry about: the World Cup was only three trips across the Atlantic away! With that in mind, we closed our eyes to pass the time on the flight to Amsterdam, both to sleep and to pray for a "World Cup miracle" connection to get us into the airport that millions of soccer fans were also trying to fly into this week. Upon arrival, we got news that our prayers were answered. In the end, we just had to spend a few extra hours in Amsterdam fly to Paris, and hop onto an AirFrance flight en route to Joburg.

Itinerary headaches aside, the travel was fun. Logan and I observed serious World Cup fever in both Amsterdam and Paris, with national team scarves and jerseys for sale all over the airports. The trip's highlight was the flight from Paris, which had the feel of a United Nations assembly. Fans from countries all over the world sat around us, all sharing our excitement for the World Cup. To sweeten the deal, the Slovakian national team joined our flight, all dressed up in matching suits for their televised arrival.

Welcome to South Africa
In the Joburg terminal we were welcomed by billboards of Nelson Mandela, President Jacob Zuma, and massive images of the stadium sites across the country. After clearing customs, we walked out into an arrival hall where hundreds stood to welcome their guests, all blowing "Vuvuzelas", long plastic horns that are becoming the symbol for the tournament here (more in another post to follow). The horns and people, along with soccer decorations as far as the eye could see, made the welcome hall feel like a stadium itself. Logan and I felt at home.

Our hosts met us and drove us to their home in a Johannesburg suburb. Cars here are all flying national team car flags, and street vendors are selling flags from all of the competing nations in addition to Vuvuzelas, jerseys, and soccer balls. Our SUV is flying a car flag on each side: one US, one South African. Most pedestrians and shopkeepers here wear South Africa's jersey almost daily; it is clear that the World Cup has completely permeated and unified the society.

When we arrived at the home of our gracious hosts, friends we knew from our time spent living in Europe during middle school, World Cup coverage was all over the TV. A parade was taking place downtown, where 180,o00 South Africans were cheering on their national team two days ahead of their opening match.

Logan and I hardly had time to take all of this in as we arrived, tired from the trip but completely thrilled to be here. Yet just as we prepared to sit down to relax and take a much needed nap, our hosts gave us some completely unexpected news. "We're going away for the weekend. And you're coming."

Translation: pack your bags -- we're taking you on a few Safaris before the World Cup kicks off. Thrilled, tired, and a bit confused, Logan and I packed a bag for the next four nights.

Destination South Africa

2010-06-08T07:10:00.002-04:00

"One Game Changes Everything." So goes the ESPN ad for the 2010 FIFA World Cup, which kicks off this Thursday, June 11, in South Africa.

If the saying is true, then my younger brother Logan and I are in for a lot of change over the course of the next two weeks. As I write, sitting in the Delta Terminal in Detroit, we hold in our possession boarding passes to Amsterdam and Johannesburg, and tickets to six of the World Cup matches to be held in South Africa this month.

The decision to cough up the the coin to make the trip came a few short hours after the World Cup Final Draw last December. Watching the ESPN coverage from South Africa, where David Beckham, Charlize Theron, and others gathered to randomly select which teams will play one another in the Group Stage of the competition this summer, Logan and I decided that the chance to experience the Cup in person would be a once in a life-time opportunity for the two of us. My interest in the people, politics, and culture of Sub-Saharan Africa - sparked by my trip to Ghana last summer - provided all the more reason to make this dream-trip a reality.

We applied for tickets and were successful in our bid for six different games. Shortly after we had plane tickets in hand. Now, six months later, we're sitting in Detroit reviewing World Cup Previews produced by USA Today, ESPN, Sports Illustrated and EuroSport. It is by far the most studying I've done since exams at West Point ended almost a month ago.

The Weeks Ahead

Logan and I plan to jam-pack our two weeks in Johannesburg by taking in the great soccer matches, learning about the history and the culture of the area, and hopefully going on a safari or two. This is the first World Cup to be held on the African continent, which is sure to add to the richness of the experience.

The Cup kicks off this Thursday, when the hosts South Africa take on Mexico. For those at home -- don't miss the US-England match this Saturday on ABC; Logan and I will be taking in that game with the locals. The first game that we'll attend is next Sunday, when we'll see Ghana take on Serbia in Pretoria. Throughout the experience we'll share notes and pictures through this site... thanks for reading.

West Point Graduation

2010-06-07T14:19:00.006-04:00

Joining the Long Gray Line
My four year stint as a cadet at West Point concluded just a few weeks ago, when my classmates and I tossed our hats, said goodbyes, and were commissioned as Second Lieutenants in the US Army.

"Class of 2010: Dismissed!"
Graduation week was a stellar end to the 48-month ride. Looking back, my time at West Point was truly incredible. The memories I was able to make and the relationships we built with roommates, classmates, and teammates will stay with me forever. I was fortunate that several people were able to make my graduation: my parents, younger brothers, girlfriend, and a great mentor attended the ceremonies, and were present for my commissioning on Saturday, May 22. It would be impossible to put all of the parades and ceremonies from grad-week into words. The pictures tell the story... enjoy.

Next up are a few summer adventures: South Africa, Tanzania, & Arizona. Yet the majority of the summer will be spent at home in Midland, prior to my departure to Oxford in mid-September. More grad week photos below.

Ghana Reflections: what we did & what I learned

2009-08-11T10:46:00.025-04:00

Coming to America.

No matter when you visit New York City, Times Square is an overwhelming spectacle. Skyscrapers, lights and sounds, great (expensive) food and restaurants, and a sea of people each engrossed in their own world. As I passed through Times Square walking from Penn Station to Grand Central last Sunday, I felt worlds away from Ghana. I spent the one hour train ride back to West Point reflecting on what our team did this summer, and what I learned along the way.

What we did.

Seven weeks in Ghana allowed our team to support a local non-governmental organization, Madamfo Pa, by teaching in the local schools, doing construction work to help build a library for the community, and sewing quilts that Madamfo Pa would sell for funds to support their projects.

During the first couple of weeks our team observed where best we could serve. I found my niche teaching grades 1-3 in the local school. With no formal training as a teacher, my greatest contribution was simply to encourage the children to love learning and enjoy school. Ghana's cities are developing rapidly, but the education system will prove inadequate if the rural areas don't keep pace in terms of education. Our team's parting gift to the village's primary school was a mural of the world painted on the side of the school building.

One of the summer's highlights was the Crossroads Cup, a soccer tournament our group organized for the community. Six teams from different villages participated in the event, and hundreds came to watch the action. It was a great exercise for me in terms of working with community leaders. I outlined our vision for the tournament, and the head-teacher took it from there, putting together a successful event.

The Crossroads Cup Penalty Kick Shootout
Marfokrom, Ghana

As a group we worked to educate the community at large on sanitation and health. In our final days in the village we donated trash cans and talked to the local leaders about the importance of disposing of waste in environmentally friendly ways. Ghana, like much of Africa, has a trash problem. Streets, neighborhoods, and almost every public area is littered with waste from water satchels to food wrappers. It will take years to clean up the country, but in the village of Marfokrom small steps of progress are being made.

A few of us branched out in other ways, too. One afternoon I taught one of the children how to use Microsoft Word at the nearest internet cafe, and at church one Sunday I had the chance to speak at a local church service with the support of a translator. Soccer proved to be my most effective means of making friends (with ping pong a close second), as I coached a team at recess, helped organize the soccer tournament, watched a professional match in Kumasi, and played for the local team in a tournament.

And, of course, we travelled. We spent a weekend in Kumasi experiencing West Africa's largest market, a weekend in Cape Coast re-tracing President Obama's footsteps and visiting Africa's oldest European built castle, and a few final days on the beach.

Along the way I ate goat and banku, got around in tro-tros, received treatment through Ghana's universal healthcare system, learned some 'Twi', and even gave a sworn statement in a local police station. The seven weeks went by all too fast.

Our team's last dinner in Accra.

What we learned.

When you live in a village where the richest still make less than $1.50 a day, you learn a lot about poverty, life, and what's truly important. The lessons that we learned are many, but a few stand out above the rest.

First, Africa - and Ghana in particular - is a rich country. Despite the oil and resources, the country is not rich economically; the majority of their citizens make well less than $2 a day, and corruption creates a headache for a national economy with unlimited potential. Even so, Ghana is rich in hospitality, and its people are rich in their zeal for life, community, and God. After spending five minutes with a Ghanaian I would typically conclude that they're much better off than most Americans, as most Americans would surely envy their contentedness, value of family and friendships, and humility.

Fun with rocks: "San San Kro Ma"

Spending time in the school we learned that the problems with education in Ghana are mainly institutional. Despite the promise that the children show, their potential is unlikely to ever be met without teachers who are better trained and better paid.

As a group we also learned about each other. A group of nine foreigners working with five Ghanaian counterparts, we learned how to adapt to difficult living conditions, budget and plan an operation according to the group's mission, and overcome challenges we faced through group conflicts, individuals leaving the group early, and sicknesses. After seven weeks together, the people who were strangers to me in June now feel like family.

We learned how to carry water on our heads, how to cook meals over an open fire, how to wash our clothes by hand, and how to shower with just a bucket of water. And perhaps best of all, we learned how to make much of little, use minimal resources for great undertakings, and become a part of a true community where life is public and possessions, joys, and hardships are shared.

It was a summer I hope to never forget, and a part of the world I look forward to returning to some day. Thanks for reading.

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The best of the summer's pictures

All 600+ pics on Flickr

Long Goodbyes to Ghana

2009-08-11T06:08:00.007-04:00

I hate goodbyes. But after our six weeks in the village of Marfokrom expired, it was time to tip our hats to the place we called home this summer.

It was especially difficult to explain to the community that we were unlikely to return. Against my best judgment, I told the guys on the soccer team and a few of the teachers that maybe one day I could find my way back. In any case, I'll miss waking up in Marfokrom in the coming days and weeks.

Oddly enough, the best way to stay in touch with the people in the village is via cell phone. Most have no access to computers or e-mail, and the mail system is unreliable and painstakingly slow, leaving cell phone communication as the best alternative. Since returning to the US I have already received two phone calls from people in the village.

After we packed up the tro-tro one last time in Marfokrom we set off for a week of travel and relaxation to ease the transition process back to the U.S. We spent a weekend in Cape Coast (the city where Barack Obama gave his July address on his foreign policy goals for Africa), visited the oldest European built slave castle in Africa at Elmina, and spent a few last days on the beach before heading to Accra to catch our Saturday flight home.

Pictures are the best way to blitz through the highlights of our team's final week:

Overlooking the fishing village of Elmina from Elmina Castle.

In front of an American owned taco shack five minutes down the beach from the Green Turtle Lodge.

Our team's final dinner on our last night in Accra.

Kwabena's African Soccer Debut

2009-07-29T08:28:00.006-04:00

I thought my soccer career was over when I handed in West Point's uniform more than two years ago. But last Saturday I joined the Marfokrom Under-17 team to play in a two day tournament in a nearby village. The experience was sensational, and the details are many. Rather than make this into a full length Sports Illustrated story I'll focus on the highlights: football ages, singing and dancing, and match-fixing.

This was a travel soccer tournament. But rather than load up the team's minivan-caravan in a hotel parking lot, our team met at the fork in the road that serves as the center of Marfokrom and walked a mile down the road to Otoase, the village hosting the tournament. When we arrived we watched a few of the first matches, as there were three age groups of four teams at the tournament: Under-12, Under-14, and Under-17. Why, as a 21 year old, I was invited to play, was a confusing question initially. Enter football ages.

I'm 21 years old. But my football age is evidently less than 17, as no one seemed to have a problem with me joining the U-17 Marfokrom team for the competition. As I would later learn, every player in Africa has a 'football age' and an actual age. In fact, I was one of the youngest players in the starting 11 at age 21; our forwards were both 25 and our goalie was 28. Thus, the U-17 age bracket serves as the men's league. After seeing the cuts, scrapes, and bruises that I left with (no shinguards in Africa), I'd hate to see what would happen to a kid under the age of 17 who attempted to play in this league legally.

What was more fascinating than the football ages was the pre-game rituals. After suiting up in our Arsenal jerseys, we began to prepare for the match. As a warm-up we simply ran in a circle for about 10 minutes, and then passed a ball between ourselves briefly. But the real excitement came with the singing and dancing that ensued following the stretching. In a very tight circle, with the captain standing in the middle leading us, we clapped, sang, and danced. Though I didn't know most of the songs, I did recognized a few from church. We sang about seeing "Jesus standing on a corner singing Alleluia day by day," and then concluded with what amounted to a remix of the Lord's prayer. The captain then led our team in an actual prayer (a child translated roughly for me), and then we joined hands in rows of two to walk onto the pitch. This type of warm-up definitely trumps the solitude of listening to your iPod alone in a dressing room or hearing a drawn out pep-talk. When it was time for kick off, these guys were loose and ready to go.

What I love about soccer/football/futbol is that no matter which continent you play it on, the game trumps any language barrier that might exist. Our coach 'featured' me at center-midfield, a position that relies on communication to direct traffic and through balls through the middle of the pitch. Still, I was able to play confidently and use the simple phrases "ba bra" (come, pass the ball) and "coh bra" (pass and go) to work with the surrounding players. I was pretty rusty, but managed to play well enough that the supporters were pleased with the "obruni's" (white man's) performance. Every header and pass was echoed with the crowd's happy approval and shock at my participation, as an American, in the world's game.

Our team tied the first game 1-1, lost the second 1-0 on a last minute header, and lost the last match 3-1 after we sold it so another team could get 1st place (no kidding). The latter practice is called match-fixing. After our bad luck in the second match, I was psyched to go out and get a win in the third match to finish respectively, with a win, a loss and a draw. My team had different ideas. In the first half of the last match I set up our team's one goal, collecting an assist before sprinting my hardest to catch the goal scorer as he darted to the corner for his celebratory dance with the team. But in the second half I was taken out, and our team gave up three goals in quick succession. Confused, I asked our captain why we broke down; and worse why he did a somersault after the final whistle. "Because we sold the match," came his simple reply.

We sold our final match because win or lose we wouldn't have gotten first place, so we wouldn't have collected any prize money. But by selling the match to the champion, we could collect a small share of the reward and come out with something to show for the weekend's efforts. Fascinating. Morally appalling... but fascinating. It was an amusing ending to a tournament that I will not soon forget.

Internet Cafe Computer Lessons

2009-07-27T09:15:00.005-04:00

Most children in the village where we live have never seen a computer before. There isn't a single computer in our village, as the internet is far too expensive and the capabilities of a computer are completely unknown. A few of the people in the village have e-mail addresses that they check monthly, or whenever they can get to a computer with a broadband connection.

For this reason, my most rewarding trip to the nearest internet cafe came last Friday afternoon, when I spent an hour teaching a 12 year old girl named Adwoa (the same girl whose parents invited me to dinner Wednesday, see "How to Eat Banku") about the parts of the computer, and how to type in Microsoft Word.

Watching her react to the appearance of letters on the screen that coincided with her pressing 'keys' was magical. I let her type whatever she could, in English and then in her local language, and then printed a picture of her using the computer, with the words "My name is Adwoa, I am 12 years old, I live in Marfokrom," printed below. She tucked the printout neatly into her bag, and told me she couldn't wait to show her mother.

The internet will soon spread to more and more parts of Ghana, which will quickly close the knowledge and development gap, as more use it for learning, studying current events, and accessing the global marketplace. To take just one example, our 'counterparts' who we are assisting sew quilts that they eventually sell on e-bay to Americans for a price four-times what they would sell for in Ghana. With this in mind, I'm convinced iSolutions are coming to Ghana very soon. But for Adwoa, typing for an hour alone was an overwhelming introduction to the magic of computers.

How to Eat Banku

2009-07-23T09:52:00.006-04:00

Adwoa (pronounced Awed-jo-wah), one of the third grade children I each here, invited me to her house Wednesday night to have dinner with her mom and dad. I have a lot I could write about Adwoa, who has become a favorite of our group's for her smiles, manners, and English speaking ability, but for now I'll stay focused on dinner. Enter Banku.

I learned how to eat Banku on the fly last night. What I thought would be a cordial conversation and introduction to the parents of one of my students turned into dinner and a movie. And just as you only need one TV for many to enjoy a movie, you only need one bowl for many to enjoy Banku. So Adwoa, her father, her baby sister, her mother's brother, and I shared a bowl of Banku, dipping our sticky hands back into the bowl after each finger-licking-good bite.

Banku is a corn-based dish that is served hot in a bowl, in addition to a soup of some sort. It's eaten with your right hand (using your left hand for anything, especially food, is taboo as it is reserved for hygiene purposes), so prior to the meal a bowl of soapy water is passed around for all to use to wash only their right hands.

The meal was a phenomenal experience. The language barrier was difficult with Adwoa's non-english speaking parents, but Adwoa translated a few of their sentences to me that came through crystal clear: I should enjoy the Banku, come again on another night, and take Adwoa home to the United States with me once she finishes her high school education.

I told them, politely, that I could do 2 out of the 3; it was what I couldn't do that broke my heart. For now, I'll just continue to enjoy the Banku.

Adwoa, above, in her school uniform, accessorized with some of our group's stickers.

Omelets and More

2009-07-23T09:14:00.009-04:00

You just can't beat the smiles that come with a hot egg sandwich and a bottle of bubbles. The Kumasi market was exhilarating last weekend, the soccer match was thoroughly entertaining, and our beach trip was tremendous, but the memories I'll cling to most when I leave Ghana in two weeks will likely be the little ones, like those formed around a small cooking pan and an open fire.

After taking notes on how to make a quality omelet or egg sandwich from the master street vendors in Kumasi, I crunched the numbers on ingredient costs and found that I could cook omelets for myself and a dozen friends for the cost of a Big Mac meal from the McDonald's menu at home. So we - my 8-10 year old friends and I - collected the ingredients and got to work.

Once the fire gets going, the simple egg omelets with onions and toasted bread take only a few minutes to make. And as the pictures show, many hands make light work.

As each omelet comes off the fire, we split it into as many different pieces as there are mouths present, and throw another egg on the pan. The smiles, laughs, songs, and appreciation of the kids for the simple treats, all added to the great taste of the end product, are more than worth the ingredient costs.

When we're not cooking, we sing songs, kick a soccer ball around, and share the bottles of bubbles that I brought to pass around. Each one brings its share of smiles that I won't soon forget. I can get all of the ingredients to make plenty of omelets back home - but I'll miss the company the most.

Football Fabulous

2009-07-19T15:31:00.012-04:00

Kumasi's famous soccer team has a call sign its supporters use when passing on the street: the initiator yells "Fabu!" (short for Fabulous, the club's nickname), and he expects to hear "Kotoko!" in reply. Wearing the red uniform of Kumasi Ashanti Kotoko I executed this passing ritual every 50 paces or so this morning.

Today was gameday in Kumasi. It was the last day of the season in the Ghanaian premier league, and the first day that I have ever witnessed a live African soccer match. I picked a good one to attend, too, as the game pitted two clubs from Kumasi against each other: Ashanti Kotoko and King Faisal. Ashanti Kotoko is the club with the largest support base across the country and possibly across Africa, so I'm guilty as charged to the claims of jumping on the bandwagon. Even so, it's difficult not to like a team with the swagger of the Yankees, a history that involves its inception by an Ashanti tribal king, and a porcupine as a mascot.

I attended the match with my trusted guide Adjei (pictured with me in front of the stadium's gates), an arist and friend of our team's Ghanaian counterparts. Like in England, hooliganism puts a stain on the game of football in Ghana. Adjei helped me look out for violent fans and thieves, both of which we saw at the match.

Two Kotoko fans and 'tigo' (a cell phone service provider) phone vendors, who gave me a free shirt like the one the girl has on, in exchange for getting a picture with me on their phones.

It was an exhilirating spectacle. Two goals were scored - one by each side - in the opening 10 minutes. Two more beautiful goals later the match ended in a 2-2 draw.

The football match essentially came with a soundtrack, as a band complete with drums and trumpets started playing music and leading chants during the warm-up period and didn't stop until well after the final whistle. The crowds were at once passionate and intelligent about the sport and their team (a rarity at American sporting events), and enjoyed watching me stand and chant, cheer and sing right along with the locals.

The King Faisal players celebrate a goal by running towards the crowd.

Adjei and I were dissapointed when the final whistle blew, as we wanted to see the Kotoko side come out with a win instead of a draw. But alas, that's football. And today it was fabulous.

Supporters of the Kumasi Ashanti Kotoko football club.

Kumasi's Central Market

2009-07-19T02:47:00.006-04:00

A trip the market in Africa is like doing your Christmas-Eve shopping in a mega mall with only used car salesmen as vendors. The crowds are endless and the salesmen are aggressive. Shop after shop are lined next to each other for miles in every direction, creating a scene that looks (and smells) like shots fromSlumdog Millionaire.

Kumasi, Ghana's second largest city and home to the largest market in West Africa was the destination for our team's second weekend getaway. So far, I've found that it's a good place to find bargain priced soccer jerseys, learn about the culture of the ancients in Ghana, and enjoy a roadside omelet.

We had the opportunity to tour the palace of the most renowned tribal king in Ghana (of the Ashanti tribe) and visit a few crafting and potery villages, but time spent in the marketplace has been the highlight by far.

The market's merchandise options are many. There are vendors who specialize in cleaning and selling shoes (my new Nike Sandals cost less than $10, my friend's new Teva's only $3), to those who sell chickens, to silverware and dining sets, to Bibles, to apparel, and just about everything else in between.

While in the market, there are a variety of refreshments to choose from. Bread and margarin (2 dimes), pure drinking water (3 pennies), cornbread (dime and a nickel), and plantain-chips (35 cents) are what I usually opt for, while many of the girls buy the ice-cream packets (a quarter) at every opportunity. Each of these delicacies is served in style, too, as the vendors carry their products on their heads, hands-free most of the time, as they bob and weave through the hustle and bustle of the market. My favorite treat remains the roadside grilled corn and fresh omelets. The omelets aren't difficult to make, but when the professionals do it (the 10-12 year old girls and their mothers) they toast the bread to perfection and pack the veggies in with the eggs just right, all in about 3-4 minutes flat. And for the American equivalent of 2 quarters per omelet, you can't beat the price.

Shopping in the market is a contact sport. Elbows and shoulders bump constantly, children grab at your arms to try to drag you to their mom's establishment, and taxis and tro-tros screaming down the side roads turn walking down narrow streets lined with gutters into quite the balancing act. My highlight was yesterday, dragging a child on my arm, being followed by a middle-aged woman who wanted me to take her home with me to America, ducking my head and shoulders to avoid the massive bowls full of merchandise the young girls carried on their heads, and watching my feet so as not to step on the loose chickens that had escaped their owner's nets. A bit more hectic than the Midland Mall.

The most exciting part? Bargain prices. The common saying is that "there are no fixed prices in Africa." So depending on your approach, you can walk up to a vendor and name your price, or ask his, in what becomes a spar for a compromise somewhere in the middle. This is at once the most enjoyable and the most stressful part of shopping anywhere in Ghana, as the vendors will surely hike the price when they see a foreign skin color. The cards I play are to say that I'm a volunteer (which lowers the price slightly from 'tourist' level) and a football fan (which amounts to a brief conversation each time that shaves off a few cedis) first, before demonstrating that I speak and understand much of the native language, and know when I'm being told the "obruni" (white man's) price rather than the "obibini" (black man's price). I always want the obibini price, of course. And while I'm sure I never quite get it, I like to think I get close. All of this, of course, takes time, begging the question of whether it's worth 10 minutes to save a quarter on a soccer jersey. Maybe it is - maybe it isn't. But to pay the face value is not only a lame attempt to engage in the pursuit of a lower price, but also an insult to the Ghanaians, who expect to have to work for a high price on each sale.

What makes it all worthwhile is the glimpse into an entirely unique style of business transactions and commercialism. The public aspect of the culture is made especially clear in the markets, where salesmen often seem just as interested in socializing with one another as they do in making their sales. Amid the excitement of the market I've had many conversations about soccer (I'm headed to a match here Sunday afternoon), my family life, and the culture in Kumasi.

So during the Day-after-Thanksgiving sales this November, when folks around are yelling, falling, and stressing, I'll be thankful for my training in the markets of Kumasi.

Our Living Conditions

2009-07-17T14:08:00.010-04:00

Bucket showers, cooking over an open fire, mosquito nets... this is the way we live. Our 'compound' is a quarter mile down the road from the village of Marfokrom, the community in which we teach. So far we've established collectively that the compound isn't as nice as the hotels we've opted to stay in during our weekend escapes; nor is it malaria-proof, as multiple members of our team have been side-lined with malaria-related illnesses (maybe myself included, though the nightly 103 degree fevers have gone away thanks to antibiotics).

A few small inconveniences notwithstanding, our living conditions still far exceed those of the children we work with. Keeping this in mind helps most of us keep the complaining to a minimum. Some of the nuances of village life in Africa are worth explaining:

The bucket shower was surprisingly easy to get used to. The picture displays all of the necessary equipment needed to indulge in one of these cleaning rituals: a bucket full of water and a smaller bucket or bowl. The idea is to recycle whatever water you can over the course of the bath. Starting with your hair, you wash yourself over the bucket, reusing much of the then soapy water for arms, legs, etc. The girls with longer hair definitely have it the worst.

Cooking over an open fire has been an adventure for all of us. After four girls on our team went to the hospital with food poisoning caused by improper cooking a few weeks ago, we've taken the practice quite seriously. We cook our meals on what the locals call a "kropot," taking turns sharing the duties. The first picture shows Solomon, one of our local counterparts, helping me prepare omelets for the group a few days ago.

Mosquitoes feed at night, which makes sleeping under a mosquito net imperative. This picture of the mat I've slept on all summer captures the essence of my bedroom. It's not memory foam, but it gets the job done.

Ghanaian Ping-Pong

2009-07-15T08:19:00.005-04:00

I've learned that playing table-tennis here is a good way to make friends, earn trust, and learn about Ghanaian culture. But it's not quite the same as it is back home.

In Michigan, I have a ping-pong table in my basement. It's a beautiful table with hardly a scratch on the surface. Our paddles are well kept, and if they ever started to tear I used to drive out to a local sports store to replace them with the new, cool, professional-style paddles. My basement's floor is also flat.

Over here in Ghana - where I'm convinced that 'table tennis' (not ping-pong) is the second most popular sport behind soccer - the playing conditions and equipment are a bit different. The table wasn't bought, but built. The paddles, some of which are wrapped in black electric tape, have been used for an endless number of hours on every day that it hasn't rained (and on some that it has) for over a year. And the wooden surface (rotted and slanted in some corners) sits upon a slight hill next to the main road through the village, requiring players to alternate sides at the end of the first game, and halfway through the third game, to be fair.

Over the course of the last few weeks, I've played more than a hundred games of table tennis, and count each of the more than 20 competitors I've faced as a new friend. Initially, most were surprised to learn that the 'obruni' knew how to play the game at all. But after watching me win more than I tend to lose, and do it with a smile and a handshake after each match, the guys in the village now count me as a respectable opponent.

Because of the emphasis on community, trust and integrity are the backbone of a Ghanaian's reputation. Playing table tennis allows me to prove my value of fair play, honesty (did the ball hit the side or top of the table?), and integrity over time.

And the greatest part of it all? The players are incredible. Playing in basement ping-pong tournaments back in the day prepared me somewhat for the talent pool here. But, for better or worse, while American children are studying, riding bikes, going to organized sports practices and dance recitals and heading off to the mall, the children in Marfokrom (who aren't playing soccer) are playing table tennis. This accounts for why it took me over a week to beat the 12 year old boys here, and why I'm just now getting good enough to win consistently with some of my peers.

Kwabena the Preacher

2009-07-15T07:46:00.003-04:00

My invitation to preach came two weeks ago, at the conclusion of a nightly church service held by the village's only congregation. Being that it was really more of an order than an invitation, I told them I was more than willing to speak for a few minutes during a Sunday service.

Reading from the book of James, I spoke to the church of about 30 members about how Christians are instructed to respond to trials. An interpreter translated after each of my sentences, and a child read the entire chapter (James 1) prior to the beginning of the service.

The highlight of the morning came when I neared the conclusion, and surprised the congregation by reaching for my second Bible, which was the Twi version. I closed with Hebrews 12:1, reading the text from the Twi Bible while the interpreter read from my English version.

The body of believers enjoyed sharing the morning's service with a Christian from across the Atlantic, and those of us from the group who attended thoroughly enjoyed the dancing and singing that goes along with the praise and worship here. It was a Sunday to remember.

The Crossroads Cup

2009-07-12T11:23:00.008-04:00

While the arrival of President Barack Obama to Ghana may have been the primary focus of most Ghanaians last Friday, the Crossroads Cup was the main event in Marfokrom. The Crossroads Cup was a "football gala competition" (or, as we put it more simply in the U.S., 'tournament'). The event was a smashing success, despite the consistent rainfall throughout the day (reminiscent of the Midland Invitational Tournament back home) and the home team's heartbreaking second place finish.

The planning process stole most of my attention on Monday and Tuesday, as we invited six teams from local village primary schools to participate in the event held on Marfo's pitch. Tuesday we met to discuss rules, prizes, and 'balloting' with the school headmasters and the coaches. I explained the organization of the tournament: two groups of three, winners play for the silver Crossroads Cup, second place in each group play for 3rd place. A total of eight matches would be played starting at 11am. We agreed on 20 minute halves, a 36kg 'weight limit' for players (weighed before the matches), and that every team would get a prize for participating, while the winners received footballs and the cup. After the intense meeting came to a close, the men balloted for which group their schools would compete in, and left to inform their players to start training.

Friday morning school was canceled in Marfokrom for the event. The kids made final touches to the field with their machetes, built a shelter using bamboo and palm leaves for us to sit under, and put the nets on the goals. Meanwhile we tied the banner that our group painted to bushes next to the main entrance. All was ready for the arrival of the players and the opening kickoff.

Once the tournament itself was underway for a few minutes, I got goosebumps for the first time since my arrival here. Making this soccer tournament a reality for this community was one of the most rewarding things I have ever been part of. The games were close, the kids were soaking wet but still excited, and the spectators were so jittery that they encroached well onto the field from all sides.

On the sidelines, children beat drums and sang chants as the home team played its matches. The adults yelled out Cedi (dollar) amounts to the players, essentially offering bribes for the first goal, and yelled in the tribal language. By midday, the entire community and many members from the surrounding villages had shown up to the field to watch.

Fortunately for the spectacle, the home team emerged as the winner of the first group, which put them in the final match. The finish could have been taken right out of a movie's script, as a 0-0 tie forced the teams to resolve the match in a penalty shoot-out. With hundreds surrounding the goal and the 10-12 year old players, the shoot-out was quite the scene. Unfortunately, the home side lost, forcing us to let another village's team hoist the cup we purchased as the first prize.

Hugs, tears, high fives, smiles, and thank-yous were all shared with us as the prizes were presented. These kids aren't likely to ever make it to play on the world's stage with Ghana's great football heroes. But thanks to the Crossroads Cup, these kids had a chance to experience the thrill of competition to its fullest in Marfokrom on Friday, just like I did in the 'glory days' in Petoskey, Midland, and Ann Arbor.

Kokro bite - Weekend at the Beach

2009-07-09T10:26:00.006-04:00

In Ghana, $50 covers a weekend at a Beach Resort. $3 for travel, $6 a night per person for lodging, $3-4 a meal for food, and a few left over for souvenirs. Not a bad gig!

Last weekend we left our village to just get away for a few days. The week prior several of the girls had gotten sick, Bryan was diagnosed (and recovered from, easily) Malaria, and emotions were running a bit high. The beach cured most of us. Kokro Bite, a small beach resort where you can take dance and drum lessons, play beach soccer endlessly, and challenge travelers from Ghana, England, and Holland to table tennis matches, was quite the spot.

The highlights of the beach are the fishing boats, barefoot games of soccer, the music, and the food. Scrambled eggs never tasted so good as they did on Sunday morning. The picture below is of one of the 2v2 matches I took part in. The little man on the right, Jodwenta, was my teammate.

The only stain on the team's weekend was money that went missing (theft suspected, unfortunately) and a girl's BlackBerry that got washed up with one of the high waves. Unfortunately those aren't waterproof yet.

Still, as the pictures show, it was a great time with lots of smiles and relaxation in a more hospitable area. A fantastic retreat.

The Tro-Tro

2009-07-09T08:20:00.008-04:00

Want to lose weight? Find a fiance? Maybe just travel for cheap? You can do all of this and more on a simple ride on a Tro-Tro, the Astro-van-styled vehicles that dominate the public transportation scene.

Tro-Tros are privately owned shuttle vans driven down the poorly built roads of Ghana by a young man, usually between the age of 20 and 40. I haven't been able to find the life-expectancy of these drivers documented anywhere, but I would expect it is quite a bit below the national average of 59, due to the cruising speeds, road conditions, and other drivers. Some Tro-Tros have predefined routes that the drivers cruise, picking up passengers along the way. Others drive around at random, yelling "bra! bra!" (come! come!) as the locals walk by. Each driver is accompanied by a younger "mate" who collects the fares, recruits passengers, and keeps order in the overpacked vehicle, sometimes while literally hanging out the sliding side door. (We suspect the mate's life expectancy is much lower than that of the driver.)

Losing weight on the Tro-Tro happens, whether you like it or not. Mostly water-weight lost through sweat, as the vans pack in as many human beings as possible as they cruise the roads. When full, most Tro-Tros pack 24 into their vans (driver plus two on the front bench, five rows of four passengers, and the mate). But it's a bad idea to attempt to estimate the mate's idea of the van's capacity; on one trip from Accra to nearby Nsawam, our van packed almost 34, by my count. But with others laying on your arm, sitting on your lap, yelling passionately, or maybe all three while trying to breast-feed, it's hard not to shed a few pounds.

Getting engaged is a bit more rare, and I've yet to see it happen. However, I have witnessed several of the girls on our team be proposed to while cruising the pot-holed dirt roads. The romantics usually get right to the point: "Marry me, white girl, and take me to your country!" Any takers?

Travelling for cheap is by far the best takeaway of taking the Tro-Tro. Our 2-hour trek to the capital city, Accra, costs just 2 cedi ($1.40) a person. Soon - perhaps after another post - I'll depart this internet cafe to find a Tro-Tro that will take me back to my village, 20 minutes away, for 70 Pesewas (less than $0.50). Wish me luck!

Kwabena the 1st Grade Teacher

2009-07-02T12:55:00.007-04:00

In America a lot of fuss is made about backpacks. Are they too heavy or awkward for our kids? Will they cause back problems later? Are children carrying too many books to and from school?

In Ghana nobody asks those questions. Instead, each morning every student in Marfokrom's primary school carries a stool on their head to and from school. Stacked on the stool, they often carry bread, drinking water, breakfast, or whatever else may be of use to the teacher or class. After waking up, they make a few trips to and from the well (80 lb. water jugs are also carried on their noggins), help mom with whatever else is needed, bathe quickly, throw on their blue school uniforms, and finally mount their stools to head off to school.

On this day they were reintroduced to their new 1st grade teacher, Kwabena. I had been out of commission since last Friday because of illnesses among my 'brothers and sisters' (six of our team members got grossly sick Sunday night, one with malaria, others with suspected food poisoning) and yesterday's Republic Day celebrations, Ghana's Independence Day. But today I returned to action, teaching and playing from 8am - 1pm.

Teaching is hard work. Maybe the understatement of the century. After 3o minutes of teaching English words (cow, cup, spoon, goat, etc.) to the kids from a book provided by World Vision, I looked at my watch and thought the day should have been over. But we were just getting started. We worked on English words, spelling, sounds, the alphabet, and ended with a review game before our 45 minute recess of soccer and 'waakye' (beans and rice).

Next was math, where we worked on basic subtraction until Kwabena lost complete control of the room. In a very poorly thought out attempt to restore attention, control, and order to the chaos, I took a bottle of bubbles out of my pocket. I regained the attention of the children, only to watch control and order dive completely off the deep end. The real teacher returned and laughed at the sight of 30+ schoolchildren crowded around the 'obruni' (white man) who wielded bubbles in his left hand and chalk in his right. Using his whip, the teacher reinstated order to the room through intimidation pretty quickly, and hijacked the remaining 30 minutes from my control.

Lots more to discuss about the school, but the pictures speak volumes about the learning conditions. Pens, pencils, paper, and chalk are all in short supply. The children are eager to learn, but lack access to resources that will enhance the quality of their education.

The lesson here is simple: instead of complaining about whether the Jansport or Nike book-bag supports the back best, we should first remember to be grateful that we are to be able to have books to fill a bag with at all. And when you get a minute, try balancing a stool on your head, too. It's harder than it looks!

This last picture was taken by one of the eight year old students, Adjowah. Few things are better than making a child smile. And between bubbles and a digital camera, this is not a difficult task.

Turning 21 with Football, Goat, and Church

2009-06-30T12:33:00.005-04:00

Ghanaians sure know how to throw a birthday party. My 21st was one to remember: I sang a solo in a Ghanaian church, watched the US come within a few minutes of beating the world's best football team, ate a goat that was killed for the birthday festivities, and capped it off with a taste of the local drink.

Church was a pleasant surprise. I was thrilled to receive an invitation to attend the small Apostolic congregation's worship service in Marfokrom while walking home with eggs and bread for breakfast. One of the ladies on the street stopped me in my tracks - "Kwabena (my Ghana name) - you should come to church with me." I handed off the eggs to my 'sister' and walked to the place of worship. Along the way, my guide noticed my shirt - dirty from the well water - was turned inside out. "Turn it around Kwabena." So then and there - on Marfo's Main Street - I smartly took off my shirt and turned it around. And off we went.

The church service was elegant, filled with energy, passion, and enthusiasm. Upon entering I was asked to introduce myself to the congregation of about 25 people. In the local language, I told them my name, home, 'mission' in Ghana, and thanked them for welcoming me. Even still, I wasn't truly welcomed until I led the small congregation in a terribly off-pitched rendition of "Holy, Holy, Holy." The approvals came in the form of claps, head nods, and a few chants. I took my seat, and enjoyed a beautiful sermon, delivered in English and the tribe's language.

Six hours later I again found myself praying. This time, it was for the fate of the United States v Brazil pairing in the finals of the Confederation Cup soccer tournament. I was invited to watch with the local school's headmaster, Arthur, and his son. As anyone who watched the game knows, my prayers were answered for the first 45 minutes, as the US played brilliantly to enter halftime with a 2-0 lead. In the end, Brazil proved again why they are the best, and won 3-2. More memorable than the final score, however, was the dancing around the room that ensued following the US goals. Hands clasped with my fellow football fans, we did what must have looked like a rain dance as we yelled our approval. It was quite the birthday tv-viewing.

Did I mention the goat? Three of our nine team members had birthdays this past weekend. As part of the celebrations, we killed a goat - thanking our ancestors and God for the blessing first, of course - to barbecue. Without going into too much detail (the vegetarian girls in our group struggled with the cultural practice), it will suffice to say that goat meat is spectacular, and a terrific birthday meal!

Table tennis on a wooden table made by the local teenagers (wind and hills add a dimension to the sport...), a sip of the local drinks to celebrate my 21st, and some great time spent with the other members of our team capped off what was a fantastic birthday celebration here in Marfokrom.

As a closing note: thanks to the Central Michigan fan who chose to give away their "Fire Up Chips - GO CMU!" t-shirt. Seeing that it was a medium, I bought it for about 70 cents (in dollars) off a table last week at a market near this internet cafe. It fits me very well.

Culture Day in Marfokrom

2009-06-26T11:50:00.006-04:00

Friday was Culture Day in Marfokrom, a day where once every two years all of the schoolchildren from the nearby villages travel to 'Marfo' to share dances, songs, and poems from their respective local villages.

I was able to attend the festivities after teaching a 1st grade class a lesson in the primary school. We worked on language together. With the small amount of twi - the local language - that I know, I helped them translate a few basic phrases from twi to English. Along the way, they taught me more twi. I've found that - in addition to smiles and laughter - a few words transcend the language barrier quite easily: water, football, and 'bye bye.'

Culture Day consisted of a number of phenomenal acts. Girls and boys from the high school dressed in their local formal attire sang tribal songs and danced around the circle formed by over 1,000 students. Most of the village came alive to watch the show, too.

The kids love us - the "obrunis" (white people). Walking down the road we hear the calls: "ey - obruni!" (hello white man!), to which we respond with a smile "obibini!" (black man!). Far from offensive, these observatory remarks are typical on a daily basis here. Referring to someone as fat, skinny, tall, or short are used practically, in order to win attention.

While the singing and dancing were great to watch, what I'll remember most about this day is the plate of "wayche" that I shared with the school's headmaster as we set up for the event. We ate the dish of noodles, beans, rice, and spices as we sat holding our satchels of pure water and talked football, life, and school. The meal, bread, and water came to a whopping 1 Ghana Cedi - 70 American cents. The conversation and cultural exchange, of course, were priceless.

Time to head back to the village now. This weekend we're killing/eating a goat (to celebrate my 21st birthday), climbing a mountain that overlooks the village, and hopefully playing a few more pick up football games after we fix the goalposts from last night's storm. Enjoy the pictures!

Late Arrival / First Impressions

2009-06-23T11:44:00.005-04:00

TIA. "This is Africa." I thought it was an acronym made up by Leonardo DiCaprio in the movie Blood Diamond. As it turns out, it's a phrase said commonly by many of the English speakers in Ghana. Though in the movie it is often expressed with an eye-roll or a smirk, I've found myself repeating the phrase frequently since my arrival - more out of amazement, awe, and curiosity.

Despite some flight issues (explained below), our team arrived in Accra, Ghana on Saturday evening. We spent the first night at the University of Ghana, where we shared a section of the dorms with clergymen attending a conference. A strange start. Sunday morning we received cultural training from our hosts/counterparts, and then loaded up the "tro-tros" (Astro-like vans used as a form of public transportation... more on these adventurous vehicles at another time) to head toward our village, Marfokrom, 2 hours northwest of the capital.

Don't bother looking for Marfo on a Google map - it won't be on it (I tried). Its population is half as large as my high school, and a good sprinter could make it down the village's main road - start to finish - in less than a minute. That said, it's a beautiful community where life is very public, the people are very hospitable, and the locals are thrilled to host us to help at the local schools.

I have much, much more to write about. Unfortunately it must end here today, as my time is quickly elapsing at the local internet cafe from which I type this. Probably for the best, though: I need to fetch well water and build a screen door for the women's room by dark (6pm).

Mosquitoes feed at night! TIA.

The school we are working on building (and currently are living in) in the village of Marfokrom. My room is the second door of the back building.

After a 24 hour delay in Lagos, Nigeria, one of the more dangerous African cities, I was thrilled to make it to Ghana.

Ghana: Operation Crossroads Africa

2009-06-18T01:05:00.005-04:00

"Make a difference for others, see the difference in yourself." This is the motto for Operation Crossroads Africa, the organization sponsoring my seven week humanitarian mission to Ghana this summer.

While in Ghana, I'll work as a member of a team of nine college-age students from the US on a mission in a rural village focused on community development through education. Though our mission is slightly unclear, the other "Crossroaders" and I will work specifically on constructing parts of the school and its furniture, as well as working with teachers and the children in the village.

Since early Tuesday morning our team has worked on team-building and cultural training at Adelphi University on Long Island in New York that will prepare us for what is sure to be tremendous culture shock. We've heard a number of briefings on medical precautions, the importance of communication and selflessness on teams, and the importance of flexibility and patience when entering another culture. Our team is extremely optimistic about the journey we're about to embark on together.

Though our mission has nothing whatsoever to do with military affairs, I've found the similarities between my military training at West Point and our group's preparations over the course of the last 48 hours to be striking. Mission focus is paramount. Planning is essential. And team-building - especially trust-building - is mission-critical. With these in mind, I feel that our team is on track for a successful summer, as we learn more about Ghana/Africa, and along the way build lasting friendships.

While in Ghana, I hope to stay in touch through e-mails home, a couple of articles for the Midland Daily News, and semi-regular updates of this blog. All of this will be technology-dependent. I'm crossing my fingers that I'll get internet access at some points along the way. "Snail mail" to Ghana is unreliable, but I would love to keep in touch and hear responses to what I write through e-mail to tylergmatthews@gmail.com.

Find out more about the organization that President Kennedy called the "progenitor of the Peace Corps" by visiting the Operation Crossroads Africa website.

SGR: "Holding Down the Fort"

2009-06-16T02:07:00.006-04:00

What happens during the summer months at West Point, when the cadets are off doing summer training? A lot more than you might think.

My West Point leadership detail involved three weeks as a staff officer assigned to Summer Garrison Regiment (SGR). The detail began the week prior to graduation for the class of 2009, and technically ends this Thursday. Because of my team's orientation for Operation Crossroads Africa, I'll be able to slip away Tuesday to head to New York City.

SGR was a good learning experience. I worked alongside a few very impressive, driven friends of mine, as we "held down the fort" at West Point while the rest of the Corps participated in various summer training events.

My specific job involved long days and nights at Central Guard Room - the academy's help center/key-control room/de facto police precinct. As the cadet in charge of the room, I helped to provide command and control coordination for our cadet commander, Ali Ihusaan, his XO, Liz Betterbed, and my direct superior, Bruno Lucivero. All three were great to work with.

The picture above is of Bruno, Liz and I, showing off the Summer Term Academic Program t-shirt (STAP: "graduation comes one class at a time") and flowers we gave to Deb Hanrahan, the lady who deserves the credit for the great summer training that cadets receive.

Overall, the detail provided a plethora of opportunities for me to grow as a leader, but what I'll remember most are the relationships I made with the other cadets who participated. It was a surprisingly pleasant experience.

West Point Model UN Public Affairs

2009-06-15T02:31:00.001-04:00

The West Point Model United Nations Team recently named me its '09-'10 public affairs officer. For starters, let me recap the team's recent successes. The team represented the academy tremendously in a number of conferences during the '08-'09 school year, taking first place at conferences at Georgetown University, the University of Pennsylvania, Princeton, Yale, and McGill University in Canada.

During the second semester the team won first place at Harvard Nationals in Boston, and won a number of individual awards at the World Model United Nations conference in The Hague, Netherlands. My friend George LeMeur and I won a diplomacy award in the World Trade Organization commmittee at the Worlds conference, representing South Africa. The team who travelled to the Netherlands is pictured above.

For those unfamiliar with the program, Model United Nations competitions allow students (and cadets...) from colleges across the world to debate international issues while representing foreign countries in simulated UN committee sessions.

UJSS Second Issue

2009-06-15T01:52:00.000-04:00

On May 1st, the Undergraduate Journal of Social Sciences published its second annual issue. As the journal's editor-in-chief, I had a fast-paced second semester overseeing the young journal's progress, which culminated in the publishing of our second main issue.

The journal's staff, pictured above, is stacked with a plethora of talented writers, editors, and publishers. Major TS Sowers and Major Fernando Lujan serve as the project's advisors. In addition to the main issues, our team publishes the transcripts of interviews with prominent visitors to West Point in the UJSS Interview Series. We're looking forward to expanding our content base in the 2010 academic year.

Check out the UJSS online at www.soshjournal.org.

Logan's Graduation

2009-06-09T14:47:00.000-04:00

It's official: my younger brother Logan is a high school graduate. Not that this was ever really in doubt. I was proud to watch him graduate and deliver the closing remarks of his graduation ceremony last Friday as Class President.

The only small stain on the awesome event was the school district's choice not to publicly recognize Logan as his class's Valedictorian. Logan was Valedictorian of his class of over 400 students. Unfortunately for Logan, he was number one academically in the first class in Midland High School history that would not recognize the Valedictory honors during the ceremony (not even in the program)! It's a shame that Logan's success went largely unnoticed.

Midland High's new cum laude system can - and should - coexist with recognition of the peak performers. As long as high school track meets are giving out golds and silvers, and as long as sports teams and leagues still award MVPs, Valedictorians and Salutatorians should still be recognized for their exceptional academic success.

So here's to my brother Logan - the first Valedictorian in Midland High history not to be formally recognized as such. Logan will be at Michigan State University next year studying Chemical Engineering as an Alumni Distinguished Scholar.

West Wing Star Brad Whitford Visits

2009-02-27T10:39:00.000-05:00

Bradley Whitford, who played Josh Lyman in The West Wing, visited West Point Tuesday and Wednesday. A few of us were able to have dinner with him at the Thayer Hotel on post. We talked politics, Hollywood campaign donations, the powers of the presidency, and the genius of Aaron Sorkin.

Whitford has some advocacy videos on YouTube that better state his views. He says he votes for "Better Healthcare, and better Education... so basically hearts and minds."

It was an awesome - and at times surreal - experience for me, a West Wing fanatic.

Model UN Team Wins Nationals

2009-02-17T15:39:00.000-05:00

The West Point Model UN Team in Boston, Massachusetts. Our team took 1st Place at the 2009 National Competition at Harvard.

We spent the weekend at the Boston Park Plaza and had a great time meeting delegates from all over the world. I made new friends from India, Pakistan, Venezeula, Kenya, Holland, and France, as well as several from all over the country.

My committee focused on the challenges of "Oil in Africa." Though we came up with a pseudo-solution to the problem, we left realizing the complexity of the social issues surrounding "black gold" in Africa. It was a great weekend, despite the fact that it interfered with my original Valentines Day plan.