Me Din De Matthew!

Week Two of my Ghanaian escapades commenced on Friday August 10^th with a workshop that I knew would be traumatic, yet proceeded to attend anyway: African Dance. Look. I have a lot of traits working against me that hinder my ability to dance properly, including but not limited to: self-consciousness, awkwardness, low confidence, and being a white boy. All of that combined resulted in so much limb flailing, stepping on people’s feet, and a general transformation into an impossibly gross-looking boy. But I guess everybody came out of it looking like we just attended a Hot Yoga session. I mean, at least I can say that I did it, that I didn’t hide/run away like I normally do when faced with an uncomfortable situation. Progress!

Also, Ghana has a really sick and twisted version of the “Trust Fall” that is beyond dangerous. Just don’t do it.

We were taken on a “tour” of Accra the next day. I put tour in quotes because we didn’t actually see much of the city other than Kwame Nkrumah Memorial Park where we were led by a highly passive-aggressive lady through Ghana’s first post-independence leader’s final resting place. Seriously. The dude’s had like 3 burial sites. That’s about 2 too many.

Dr. Nkrumah’s Mausoleum. Not sure why his body had to be shuffled around so much before being laid here.

After being swiftly led through the museum we boarded the bus to the W.E.B Du Bois Center where we saw…nothing. We got off the bus and back onto it within 5 minutes. Not really sure what the deal was with that. Along the way we were taken to Osu for lunch. I and a few other people ended up eating at a Thai restaurant where we met this wonderful man, Daniel, who’s from the U.S. but moved to Ghana so he could retire earlier. He believes in “following the wind.” I really like that. He also drove us back to the bus! I’m not used to randomly coming across great people, so that lunch was really refreshing.

That night was our official “Welcome Dinner” at Chez Afrique, a really fancy restaurant that serves chicken gizzard on a skewer. Yeah. I ate that. Cause I’m so adventurous and all. But if you’re wondering, it’s kind of nasty. I was also coerced into dancing again. This is probably the first and last time I will dance two days in a row. Nobody should be subjected to that.

The gizzard.

My lazy Sunday started with me attempting to do laundry. Having never hand-washed clothes before, naturally I Googled “How To Hand Wash Clothing” and just followed the directions provided by WikiHow. Probably not the wisest method for acquiring instructions, but after 2.5 hours I’m just happy my clothes came out of it relatively unscathed.

At this point I was really concerned that I had ruined half my clothes from too much detergent.

Afterwards a few of us boarded a Tro-Tro to a market where we thought we could bargain for some fruits/vegetables. To our horror we were forced to spend the abominable price of

My mango that I thought was overpriced. This was also my first time using a knife of such a menacing size.

about $1.50 for a few items (mango and apple for me). We were so pissed, thinking those evil ladies overcharged us. We later found out that we were charged a reasonable price. Oops. Sorry ladies!

Monday was the Big Day! Classes were finally beginning, and I was really excited that morning ahead of my first class, Politics of International Economic Relations. I was even alright with the professor showing up 20 minutes late. After we all introduced ourselves the professor ended up just reading the course description and syllabus, and…that was it. Except for the fun moment when the professor called on me to answer a question, a really easy question that I would have been able to answer if I had any communication skills. Here’s how it went down:

Professor: “Matthew, what is a multinational corporation and can you give me an example?” Matthew (in thought): What? He already has my name memorized? That’s crazy! Why is he calling on me out of everybody here?? Wait, what did he ask? Oh God. Help. Why can’t I open my mouth? Professor: “Matthew? Can you just give an example?” Matthew: “…………..Nike.”

So yeah. Not my finest moment, and probably not the most ideal first impression. Oh well.

We didn’t really do much in my other classes either, so I guess next week is the real first week of class. Also, Twi is going to be an issue. Why must there be 7 vowels? 5 is more than enough for any language.

I was in (extremely) rare form Wednesday night during the celebration of a friend’s 20^th birthday. But hey, I have no classes on Thursdays and Fridays so I lacked any real excuse to not participate in festivities. I proved that I can be social and do normal young people stuff when I actually feel like it, which is basically never about 90% of the time. But I drank wine out of a random person’s bottle, took a shot of some poison vodka (Russian Bear? Seems like an odd beverage name), and had a beer at the beach while waiting for reggae to be played (never happened).

Sorry, but the world has to see this. Somebody had a rough night, and it wasn’t me!

The beach was really beautiful (and freezing). Being in the Atlantic Ocean from the opposite end was strange but I liked the familiarity of it. Also, I was offered some pot from a strange Ghanaian man. I only hesitated for about a second before turning him down. I’m not completely insane (yet).

All in all, this has been a great week. I’m looking forward to things picking up next week and hopefully starting my internship at the orphanage! Here are a few final thoughts:

• Being perpetually dirty is something that I’ve had to quickly get used to.  It’s just unavoidable. Especially my feet. It also doesn’t help when the water isn’t working for an entire night. Thanks, Africa.
• Speaking of feet, the inhumane amount of walking required to get to class at this massive school has left me with many blisters. I know you all wanna know that.
• These water sachets are a life saver. And extremely cheap. 30 bags of these cost about the equivalent of $0.75. Mind-boggling.
  

  Once you get passed the somewhat metallic taste, these water bags are kinda great.

• I really need to work on eating healthier. I’ll probably continue getting pizza every Tuesday, but maybe I’ll cut back on the amount I shove down my throat at one time.  And I’ll have to live without the chocolate crepes from CoffeeCue or banana chocolate chip muffins from the crazypossibly unstable muffin lady who more or less lives outside the dorm.
  

  We might have gone overboard on the amount of pizza we purchased.

• It’s probably an issue that I haven’t officially registered for classes yet. I’ll get to it.

I really cannot stop listening to this song. Why is Beyonce so perfect?

A Week Off, A Week of Pizza

Ahh…Spring Break. A week off from school and work came at a pretty wonderful time.  This semester has been so chaotic in recent weeks so I’m definitely grateful for this reprieve to recharge and get ready for the coming weeks.  Time has been flying by, which I’m not complaining about too much, but this just means that I really have to start getting my life together with a couple classes.

So my vacation started with a visit from my father and his girlfriend to DC. I hadn’t seen my dad in a couple months and he was asking about coming to visit me so I figured the first weekend of spring break would be ideal. Overall the weekend was pretty fun, mixed with the usual awkwardness that follows me everywhere I go and with anyone I come into contact with. I mean, it is kind of weird to spend an entire weekend with your father’s girlfriend in a hotel room…with no door separating their bedroom from where I slept in the living room sofa bed. I guess  I’ve slept in worse conditions. I also couldn’t stop thinking about how my life is turning into “Modern Family” (oldish, kind of embarrassing father with his more attractive and fun Colombian girlfriend ).

Regardless, we managed to have a pretty great time. We wandered around the National Gallery and managed to witness an arrest by the Washington Monument on our way to visit Abe. Crazy shit. The craziness continued that night after dinner at Nandos ( <33333) when a young drunken couple decided that the street would be a great place for a brawl. Lots of slapping, lots of yelling, lots of amazement. Before heading back to Long Island we got to have brunch with our cousins who live by my school, which was pretty great since I never get to see them.  Hopefully that will change.

The rest of the week can be summed up with PPP: Pizza, Paper, Planned Parenthood. Seriously, the amount of pizza i consume whenever I come home is borderline disgusting.  Within a 24 hour span I believe I had pizza for 3 meals. I kind of hate myself for it, but it’s so hard for me to go without decent pizza for so long. When Dominos is the best option, that just makes me sad. I’m looking at you, D.C.!

One pizza outing was mixed with a magical trip to Planned Parenthood with my best friend to go snatch some brochures for her research project.  Surprisingly our attempt at being discreet failed miserably. Granted, we shouldn’t be surprised that the ladies who work there would be suspicious of a young duo strolling into the waiting room without saying anything and rummaging through their pamphlets. Long story short, we were accosted by a very pleasant lady and ended up being lectured on the truth behind condoms and STDs. Just another ridiculous experience to add to my list with this girl.

Won’t say much about the paper since I don’t really care about it, but that consumed a couple days of the week. Other than that, the week included ice cream with wonderful friends, lots of tennis watching (Maria <3), even some tennis playing =), and a trip to NYC. A day that started so well ended tragically with the demise of 6 Georgetown Cupcakes that I bought in SoHo. I opened the box and it was if some kind of Frosting Volcano had erupted inside. So much carnage. But I spent $16 on those bastards so cupcake pudding had to suffice. (It was still pretty fantastic.)

For whatever reason I’m kind of looking forward to heading back to school tomorrow. Maybe it’s knowing that the semester is coming to an end soon, or that the weather in D.C. is just beyond beautiful now. Or I’m just ready to get out of my house again and be back on my own. But then I look over at my dog sleeping by my feet and the thought of leaving that guy behind again just…sucks. I really took those 5 years of being with him daily for granted. But May is coming pretty quickly, and so much is going to happen between now and then. Hopefully I’ll know where I’ll be in the Fall pretty soon (Ghana vs Uganda), or if I’ll be going to Israel with Birthright this Summer. Hopefully things will continue to go well at USAID and they won’t declare me incompetent, and hopefully my indifference towards my grades this semester won’t be too catastrophic.

To finish off this post, I thought I’d share a beautiful song by Corinne Bailey Rae, called “The Sea.” The lyrics are so amazing, especially the final verse, and I’m positive that she wrote this about her husband who passed away. Just another example of a song that I probably shouldn’t love so much, yet suits my taste perfectly.

My musical taste? Sadness. But not always!!! But usually….

Thanks for reading! =)

The Defining Word

You know those times when you eat a slice of pizza and quickly realize that it’s the greatest thing you’ve ever tasted, that no other sane action exists besides consuming 17 more slices? Well, that’s what happened on my last post. Amy Poehler/Leslie Knope is probably the most delicious slice of pizza I’ve ever come across. So I just had to have more. And apparently I felt the need to regurgitate her back onto all of you. Sorry!!

If that disgusting analogy didn’t scare you off, then be prepared for something even more ridiculous. I’m about to quote freakin’ Naomi Campbell to introduce this post about something I’m sure everyone struggles with: Getting out of your own way.

“Anger is a manifestation of a deeper issue…and that, for me, is based on insecurity, self-esteem and loneliness”–Campbell

I’ve come to the realization that one word, insecurity, is the defining issue that I face on a daily basis.  It is what prevents me from doing everything I want to and being who I want to be.

Most people, when first meeting me, probably come to the conclusion that I’m the least intimidating person in existence. I laugh a lot, I’m extremely self-deprecating, sarcastic, and generally not offensive in any way. I make a conscious effort to not bother anybody or piss anyone off. In fact, I really don’t speak much at all.  I’m so concerned about how people view me that I don’t really let anyone know me at all.  I’m the awkward, puppy-loving, non-confrontational spoiled kid with wild hair who has everything he wants, right?

That’s how I present myself to the world, so why should I expect to be treated any differently? Why should I act surprised when I become the butt of many of my friend’s jokes, or complain when a random homeless person accosts me for money or puts my earphones in his mouth (true story)? I guess vulnerability just oozes from my pores.

I don’t try to change things. I maintain the status quo, fearing that doing anything differently would eliminate any appeal that I have to my few friends. If I don’t express my love for fat, wrinkly puppies, my love for Celine Dion and Maria Sharapova, or constantly make fun of myself, what is left to like about me?

I’d say this picture about sums me up.  My love for my dog is at an extremely inappropriate high level, and my love for dogs is in no way an exaggeration. But is it normal for me to love dogs and animals more than most people?

Look at that ridiculous smile! I’m constantly amazed at how unbelievably crazed ecstatic I appear in most of my pictures. I look at myself and can’t believe I’m capable of conveying so much joy. I blame my freakishly large cheeks. The bastards!

This is the face that I show the world. It’s as if my body is unconsciously making me appear as exuberant as possible. Maybe it’s because for those few seconds that the picture is being taken, smiling is the accepted, expected behavior.

I can make a list of all the things that insecurity renders me or keeps me from being/doing. High up on that list would be forming relationships. I didn’t even have actual friends until my junior year of high school, friends I saw outside of the classroom.  I put zero effort into it, claiming to be 100% devoted to academics as my major excuse. I told myself that I didn’t need anybody. I even felt good knowing that instead of wasting my weekends going out and being social, I was getting assignments done days, even weeks early. It virtually took me being dragged out of my house one night in 11th grade that brought me some of the beautiful friends I have now.

Things didn’t change much in college. Once again, I didn’t put any effort into forming friendships, this time literally being dragged out one night to celebrate a birthday. And that was only because I had the luck of leaving my room to do laundry at the time that everybody was out in the hallway getting ready to go. In that moment I thought, “Well, if I’m ever going to have friends, this is my one opportunity.” The point is, the friends I have today came without any actual effort on my part.

When those rare moments come when I come across somebody who I actually want to know or be friends with, insecurity prevents that. So I settle for “liking” the occasional Facebook status, letting fear get in the way of doing what I want to do.

Insecurity is what keeps me silent in class. It’s what keeps me from vocalizing any opinion. It’s what leaves me with zero confidence. It’s what makes most of my closest relationships end up being with TV characters. And my dog.  It’s what kept me from telling my friends and family that I’m gay (Still haven’t told most of my family. Only told my dad because he asked. On the phone.). It’s what makes me never expect anything good to happen to me, and to question the good when it sometimes comes my way. Getting into the college that I go to, being selected for my dream internship with USAID, getting a 3.94 GPA last semester. My initial excitement is soon replaced with thoughts like, “What were they thinking? Why would they accept me? It’s definitely because they didn’t have to meet me in person first.”

“I’m only great on paper.” That’s probably what I think the most and that’s what I tell people. My resume, that first impression of me might be amazing, but when you look behind the words and the transcripts, you realize there isn’t much to be impressed with.

Like Campbell (probably the first and last time I’m going to start a sentence with those words), I am angry. I’m angry that I can’t be content with who I am. I’m angry that I don’t try to be close with people I should be close with. I’m angry that life is passing me by as I sit in my single room (roommates? Yeah right.), wishing to be with other people, but unable, unwilling to do it. I’m angry that I know what I want but lack the courage to try.

I know I need to figure out where this insecurity came from, when it started, why it started. You can’t come to a solution without knowing the cause(s). You can’t determine the cause without putting in some effort.

Hopefully some day soon I’ll get on that.