Stateside

I arrived home early this morning. After a delayed, already long flight I was worried I might never make it back. My dad was waiting for me when I cleared customs. I was finally able to breathe a huge sigh of relief. I hate that my Peace Corps experience had to end that way. I cannot quite comprehend it's actually over, with each passing day the reality might hit me a little more. I am tear stricken and filled with a rush of emotions.

What's next? Enjoy the holidays and allow everything else to slowly fall into place.

Most important, though is that being home feels right. The ground is covered in snow, the house is decorated, ringing with Christmas carols, and the family is gathered together. I was able to peacefully get some sleep in a napping house this afternoon--more sleep than I ever consecutively got in Ghana. I bundled up and hit the streets for a blistery run with the youngest H. I have kept food in my stomach for more than six hours and am looking forward to a full meal this evening, at no other place than the local Moe's. More quality time spent with my now permit holding younger brother(!!!). Perhaps, we'll be totally American by wrapping up this lengthy day with Christmas movie, a warm fire, and hot chocolate.

It's not how I would have written my book of life. I'm 23--completely capable of reintegrating, redefining, and (re)becoming me in time. Land of electricity, I've landed.

Lasting Impressions

I arrive early stateside tomorrow. While most of Ghana has been trauma inducing there have been some really positive moments I would like to share:

• Briefly learning another African language and culture.
• Meeting new people, both Ghanaian and American.
• Drinking fresh coconut juice right out of the shell. Then watching machete man cut the fruit into thirds and using a scraper to eat the flesh.
• Fried ripe plantains and homemade spicy salsa!
• Watching my host family make soy milk from soy beans. What a process--all for a few cups of joy!
• Early morning runs on dusty, hilly, overgrown African roads with several children in tow shouting "obruni, obruni" (white person).
• Hours swinging under the shade tree.

• Teaching my host sister and friends how to play Yahtzee and Uno, followed by a countless number of games.
• Making country flags from Play-doh.

• A conversation with my host sister about the genetics behind her sickle cell anemia.
• Experiencing the hussle and bussle of market day in West Africa. Thousands of vendors selling trinkets and treasures--cloth, beads, wicker baskets.
• A terrific thunderstorm to entertain me on a sleepless night.
• Receiving two letters from the states.
  

Ghana, thank you for opening your arms and embracing me with lots of love in a time when I needed it most. It wasn't right for me at this point in my life, but with time I know I will crave the simplicity of your lifestyle. Your country is beautiful, your people friendly, and the atmosphere of Western African culture is indescribable--I will encourage everyone to experience in their lifetime.

Smiling Faces, Beautiful Places

There is no greater satisfaction in life than meeting new people; young or old, rich or poor, conservative or liberal, American or foreign. This past three plus months have been dark in so many ways--loosing a close friend and a dog, a dream and means to my future, overall feelings of loneliness and a general lack of understanding. Besides the tremendous amount of guilt I experience daily, there is a conflicting part of me that wants to know why me? I long for a "cure" in the sense of forward motion and the right to be happy all the time. I would not wish this on anyone.

When I look for the positive in all of this I think of all the tremendous people whom I have met along the way. The obvious: family and friends who supported and encouraged my Peace Corps vision. The volunteers coworkers I met on November 11, 2009 in Philadelphia where relationships immediately began to emerge. They served the people of Lesotho with me, we explored new places together, and eventually created the ultimate family team in what would unknowingly be my final days in Lesotho.

From September onwards there were all the medevacs I encountered in DC. New people with new stories: P from Rwanda, R from Ecuador, A from China, R from Ukraine, H from Honduras, and many more. Each person came with their own story. We could share and commiserate together; no one in Peace Corps wants their service interrupted with cancer, a broken leg, or irregular heart beats. Late nights, shared laughter, afternoon coffee all made the road to recovery less bumpy. Finally I would make my way to Ghana where I would meet 150 new faces with their own backgrounds. These would be the volunteers who would see me through my final Peace Corps days. The time spent in Ghana was much shorter than I ever could have anticipated. Even so I was able to meet several volunteers doing amazing work in Ghana, all who share an ideal for a peaceful world.

I will remember the Ghanaian people who are more hospitable than anyone group of people I have ever encountered. Their struggles and hardships in daily life will always be remembered. Even more so than that I will remember their smiling faces, loving demeanor, and ability to remain positive when everything around them might seem to be crumbling. In the words of the H family 2010 Christmas letter, it's all about your perspective.

New address

Samantha Hoehner, PCV

United States Peace Corps, Ghana

PO Box 5796

Accra-North

Ghana

Western Africa

Ghana are the days of Lesotho

I made it to Ghana! So far all my first impressions are positive. It's still Peace Corps, but it seems a tad more organized and stable. Heck, here they gave me a cell phone within minutes and access to free internet (at their office) on the second day. I also learned I can call America for a dollar per hour. That's incredible. With time send me your numbers because this go around, I'm certain I'll be phoning you. Yes, you heard correctly: the poor Peace Corps volunteer will be calling you.

It's lush, really lush and hot. Hooray! I had dinner with the acting country director, along with his wife and kids last night. Today, the doctor brought me fresh pineapple for breakfast so I could put something in my stomach and start taking malaria medications. I learned a lot about food in Lesotho, and the learning has begun here already. Pineapple is white, not yellow.

I should have the opportunity to meet some volunteers for dinner tonight. I am looking forward to that!

Peach Season

I'm having so much fun sharing memories from Lesotho with you, why stop now?

Seasonality of fruits and vegetable is something I already miss (and look forward to readjusting to in Ghana). Come March/April during the Lesotho peach season I'll probably be in tears. During this season there are peaches everywhere, except in the shops. There are so many, students would bring me peaches in class from their trees, my host family would leave (at least) two peaches on my step each morning, and friends would send me home with bags from their compounds where they were grown.

By volunteers they were turned into cobblers, pies, and turnovers. Lacking sufficient cooking skills I was satisfied with them as a healthy snack. The Basotho canned thousands of them and dried the remaining half. I learned real quick how much work this is. Washing peanut butter and mayonnaise remains out of glass jars without a dishwasher is not easy. Then peeling thousands of peaches for more than a month gets old. I would occasionally help after school, more as entertainment to my host family who were mesmerized by my unbelievably slow pace, oh and my ability to inhale peaches.

I was eating upwards of nine a day... until my body said no more. At one point my host mother gave me a lecture about food security. Laugh. Isn't that what I am here for? She told me I needed to remember when the only fresh food available was cabbage I would be thankful for the canned and dried peaches. Sigh. When I realized how accurate her statement was I vowed to work even harder the next spring.

As with everything else, nothing goes to waste. These were two of the perfectly edible peaches left on my door step one morning. In America there is no way I would have touched either of the above peaches. In Lesotho I learned to cut of the bad parts and compost or feed the pigs the bruised parts. In the words of middle sister, "feed the ground and the ground will feed you." Same can be said of the animals.

Twitter

While my friend was in town she confessed to being on Twitter. Ahh, what happened to you while I was away? Retract statement. She allowed me to play around for awhile to find out what this hoopla was all about. I found my new love: Funny One Liners. Whoever it is behind these short statements, lets meet immediately, if not sooner. I sat there hysterically laughing the way anyone would while reading Popsicle stick jokes.

I can't stop thinking about him/her and their funny one liners. Oh to be so clever and witty! Am I about to find myself on Twitter stalking Funny One Liner man/woman? This can't be happening. Lately, I have been going through what I'll refer to as an "I-hate-that-facebook-controls-my-life" phase, and now I am considering joining Twitter? And not to tweet, I do all that here, simply to follow a tweeter.

Last weekend I wondered what had come over my friend, now I think I'm ill.