Welcome to Brunswick, Now Serving Mexicans

Though that's not nearly as progressive as it might sound. On my way to Beans in the Belfry, the local church-turned-coffee-shop, I passed through the Railroad Day festivities here in Brunswick, MD. Eager for something to eat, I stopped at one of the food tents and examined the options: Cheeseburger, Hamburger, Hot Dog, Mexican, Chili Dog. Wait a minute... did I read that right? Yes, I did. They had Mexicans on the menu. Either a wave of xenophobic pride has swept through this small corner of Maryland or I'm missing something - hopefully the latter. I began my lengthy investigation.

"What's in a Mexican?" I asked.
"Well, it's just like a sloppy joe," the attendant responded.

Don't know what a sloppy joe is? If so, you probably didn't grow up here. The sandwich was a staple of my childhood, though I don't remember my mom ever preparing it. That leaves school cafeterias and friends' houses, the former of which could be drawn to the recipes simplicity and the facility with which it can be mass-produced. One thing's for sure, in my months in Mexico I never saw anything closely resembling this. In fact, the ground beef that is central to the sandwich did not feature prominently in any of my Mexican fare (not even in the tacos, if you'd believe that).

This might add some clarity to the peculiarly named El Sloppy Tacos that I stumbled upon earlier today, but I still find the whole idea a little hard to stomach. (You see what I did there?)

In other news, my weekend away from Baltimore has been very relaxing. I've split my time between running through the backcountry roads, sitting on the porch reading, cleaning up hairballs, and turning into a prune in the hot tub. Yes, I'm bragging about how awesome my weekend has been, but I hope I'm doing it without being too self-important.

It's been great to get out of the city and have some time to think. I actually opened up the blog today with the intent to write about something entirely different. I've been thinking about the paradox of wanting a companion and in waiting for the right person. I feel like this is a paradox only in initial appearance and that a sensible solution will present itself in time. Meanwhile, I feel myself both wanting to rush headlong into some romance while also wanting to hold back and cautiously approach the topic so as to not get burnt. Anyway, these thoughts are for another time (and another post), but if you happen to have any wisdom feel free to share.

That's all for now. Time to try to squeeze some productivity out of the remaining hours of the day.

Update 8:53pm EST: I meant to include two tiny tidbits for the curious reader. I've recently taken up Spotify for my music and have discovered two artists that I enjoy: Canadian indie-rock band Stars and US-based group Late Night Alumni (Wikipedia labels their genre as "house," but I disagree. Listen to this or this and be your own judge.)

Videos: The Water Situation and Ants Carrying a Pringle

I honestly enjoyed my time in Ghana, but there were a few recurring themes that chipped away at that enjoyment. One such theme was the unreliability of the plumbing system. I've got a few hypotheses on why it would fail from time to time, but sometimes it's good to leave logic out of the equation. Trying to understand this water shortage may actually provide no useful basis for predicting how long it will last or when the next one will occur. You've just gotta roll with it.

So here's what I woke up to every morning for my last week in Ghana. If I left the faucet running long enough it would go one of two ways. If the system was working it would eventually normalize into the typical flow that you'd expect. If the system wasn't working, the water flow would trickle down to only drops and then nothing at all.




Next we've got our lovely ants. These guys redefined the meaning of having an annoying roommate. Every day I would find them in my room. I'm able to say that most of the time I did a great job protecting my food, but that wasn't enough to deter these guys. They would nibble on my toothbrush (gross, I know), sleep in my bed sheets, and even pop up from under the toilet seat when you were least expecting them. I tried a few - mainly insecticide - but nothing ever worked.

One day I was curious to see just how responsive they would be when I introduced food into the equation. I set a corner of a pringle on the ground in my room and waited with my camera in hand. The video below is from less than two minutes after first setting the pringle on the floor. I apologize for the odd lighting. The electricity was out (why else would I be bored enough to film ants?) so I used the flashlight on my phone to brighten things up.

Back from Ghana and back to the blog

It's been a long time, eh? Let me explain.

Having this blog has helped remind me that I enjoy having an audience and that I depend too much on the approval of others. (Let's be honest - I've actually known that love attention for a while.) I've realized recently that too often I put the decisions of my life into the hands of those I would hope to please. This has led me to some great opportunities, but you can easily do the right thing for the wrong reasons. I'm standing on the edge of my summer and am about to dive headfirst into a doctoral program. Part of me knows that I chose this path because it would be another way to prove myself to others and gain acceptance from my peers and my parents. Luckily there is also a part of me that will be thrilled to continue in school, but hopefully you see what I mean about doing the right thing for the wrong reasons.

At first glance the solution isn't so complicated - do the right thing for the right reasons. That's not so easy when you've programmed yourself for 25 years to approach things the other way. Regardless of how difficult  it might be, my goal is to live my life in such a way that I get satisfaction directly from the choices I make and not from the responses of others to those choices. It's a work in progress.

Now let's bring this back to where we started: my recent hesitation toward blogging. A classmate shared an article on Facebook that speaks to the flare up of bragging in our everyday lives, consciously or otherwise. The article is well-written and speaks for itself much better than I could, so I encourage you to read it here. Some passages that stood out:

We've become so accustomed to boasting that we don't even realize what we're doing. And it's harmful to our relationships because it turns people off.

... 

People brag for all sorts of reasons, she says: to appear worthy of attention or love or to try and cover up our deepest insecurities. To prove to ourselves that we're OK, that people from our past who said we wouldn't measure up were wrong. Or simply because we're excited when good things happen to us.

...

...browsing Facebook or another social media site increases our levels of narcissism as well as our self-esteem.

I was excited to see how many page views my posts received I received when I began this blog. I won't lie - it even got to my head. I believe there is value in the process of taking an idea and twisting it around in your head to the point where you can clearly write it out, but then it comes down to the age-old question of to share or not to share? In sharing a post like this I might help a friend to realize that he or she is caught in the same unhealthy cycle of seeking the approval of others. If that case then sharing was the right choice. By sharing my thoughts (or any post, for that matter) I may also find that my friends and family offer their support through Facebook "Likes," comments, and such. There's nothing inherently wrong with this, at least not on their part. The problem comes when I view as personal validation, which can be too tempting to resist at times.

So here we stand (or sit, more likely). I'm still going to post, but I'm going to focus my attention away from using this as a tool for self-validation. Like many things, this will be an ongoing project.

Hope you guys are all doing great. I've just arrived back from Ghana and am staying at home for a week with my family. Next week I'll be back in Baltimore and am excited to see your friendly faces. Even more excited to get out into the woods and go hiking, which is the plan for Labor Day weekend.

Take care!

Can you say "Fresh"?

There is a juice company here called Blue Skies (http://www.blueskies.com/). It's some of the best juice I've had. In fact, it's the only juice I've ever had that tastes as good as if someone made it for you that morning. You never know with this one; that could actually be the case. Blue Skies does not use any preservatives, so it's bottled here in Accra and brought directly to the supermarkets. Here's a picture of the expiration date from the one I had just a few hours ago.

I have no clue what the usable window is for something like Nantucket Nectar, but I've got to believe that it's longer than one week. This juice makes everything else look (and taste) like the Twinkie version of juice. And there's no joking about this expiration date. I bought one a few weeks ago and put in in my refrigerator overnight. As my Ghanaian experience level at that time was n00b (read: complete beginner), I didn't think to check that the refrigerator was even on. This was just one of the things in my first week here that brought laughter to all those around me - hey, at least it made someone happy in the process.

So anyway, leaving your Blue Skies in an unrefrigerated refrigerator is not a good choice. I went to drink it the next day and it was like a sour pineapple smoothie. No bueno.

I wish this had a better shelf life so I could bring some home with me, but I guess that gives you one more reason to visit Ghana!

My Life as a Meme

I'm thinking of having a semi-regular feature here called "My Life as a Meme." For better or worse, I find myself thinking in memes these days. Here's the first installment.

There's not much to be done at this point. They're attracted to my bed sheets, my comb, my soap, my shoes, and just about everything else. They were here when I arrived and they will be here when I leave. I take my comfort in knowing that our tenure as roommates will come to an end in a matter of weeks.

Getting away from the ants, there has been something that I've wanted to share since last Sunday. When Michael, the main student researcher with the program, came several weeks ago he introduced me to Mama Mia's, an Italian restaurant in the Osu neighborhood of Accra. You see more Obrunis (white people) in there than you do Ghanaians, but the quality of the pizza is amazing. Until last Sunday I had to take any comments about the quality of the pizza on good faith. It happens that the one time I went Michael was the first time my stomach decided to protest so I had plain spaghetti with diced garlic... still a surprisingly exciting break from rice!

Last Sunday my faith in the quality of the pizza was replaced with the cold, hard truth. Or soft and gooey truth, as the case may be. As I tried to navigate the side streets of Osu I felt like I was looking for Mama Mia's in all the wrong places. I even thought about giving up and returning to the grilled talapia stand by Duncan's. (Tested before and proven to be quite delicious - a very attractive back up plan.) Perseverance paid off and I ended up finding the restaurant. 

The pizza was truly delicious. I ordered the Peter Pan and realized when it came that I should have brought my camera. I think there were four or five different meats, all of which shared no resemblance with chicken or goat. (There's been too much of that these past weeks.) The pizza could have fed two, so I took the unfinished portion to go and gave it to the porter when I arrived back at my residence. I would have loved to finish it myself, especially as it was a bit of a pricey meal, but remember that ant problem I discussed above? Either way this pizza was going to be someone else's dinner. My choice was whether the recipient would be the ants or the porter.

As I was paying the bill I noticed the waiter walking by with several very small cups. Was this really what I thought it was? It couldn't be - not here! I asked, "Was that espresso that you were carrying?" Before he could finish saying yes, I asked him to bring one to me. I then proceeded to get as high as a kite on concentrated caffeine. Was this a smart choice at 8pm before a work day? Probably not. Was it delicious? You can bet your boots it was. And it certainly beats my standard Nescafe.

Though Nescafe has almost become a thing of the past for me. Now I'm on to bigger and better things. Instant coffee? Who needs that. Instant cappuccino? That's more like it.

You might ask, "Does it even taste like a cappuccino?" And my response...

Why I Love Hiking

Life has felt a little hectic lately. I've been busy with work and have also had a few other things on my plate. The combination of it all makes it all seem a little overwhelming. I just recently was able to look at one part of my workload and say, "Andrew, you're all caught up with that." It's amazing how finishing one thing can also lead you to realize that all the other things you had in your mind weren't all that big either. It's as if passing some critical point in terms of workload makes everything exponentially worse than it truly is.

I've been moving steadily through the first book of Game of Thrones and that's been pleasant. The last 24 hours have brought with them a rather unpleasant stomach bug, but things seem to have cooled down. This is the price you pay for paying $1 for dinner at the Night Market. The food is decent, but I guess it can't be perfectly germ-free all the time.

As I've felt a little overwhelmed with life this summer, I've been trying to step aside from my daily routines and think about the things in life that I enjoy the most. Perhaps the first of these to come to mind is hiking. I feel odd saying this, because hiking and I did not start out on very good terms. In fact, I wasn't a huge fan of hiking as a child. My dad would say that we were going for a hike and it almost seemed like a chore. My how times have changed, and for the better I ought to add.

I've been lucky in that both my parents are avid hikers. My mom has been to the bottom of the Grand Canyon more times than I can count and she still manages to make it back there at least once a year. As I mentioned above, my dad was one of the first motivating forces behind my hiking. As a kid that might not have been the most exciting, but now it's great to know that we both have that interest in common. There's are actually a few great hikes near where we live in Massachusetts and we were able to make it out to one the last time I was home.

The real treat that I had with regards to hiking came the summer that I spent as an intern at the World Health Organization in Geneva, Switzerland. Let me share a few pictures I took from various hikes during that summer.

The first three of these photos come from a hike that I did up La Tournette, a mountain that I believe overlooked a town of the same name. I did this hike and several others with a hiking club that I became acquainted with in the area. You would not believe how much those people could hike! I know I have photos somewhere around here from another hike that I did with them. Oh, here we go...

If you look closely, you can see just how steep that hike was. Add to it that the Lake Parade in Geneva was just hours before and you'll understand me when I say: this was the most difficult hike I've ever done in my entire life!

Ok, back to the first set of pictures. Like I said, the first three were with this hiking group. The fourth photo is actually from the first time that I ever hiked up Saleve. In Mary Shelley's Frankenstein the creature flees up the rock face of Saleve upon its escape. 

That's not a photo from one of my hikes, but it gives a good idea of just how steep the rock face is. My first time hiking, which is when I snapped the photo, we took the long way up, which was significantly more relaxed. I returned to Saleve many times in my time in Geneva and decided to stick with the steep trail. I even had the privilege of taking my parents there when they came to visit me. Anyone looking to verify just how steep of a hike this is, you can ask either of them. One of my favorite parts about hiking Saleve is that it is accessible from public transportation. Just jump on that #8 bus and you're good to go. I think this is part of what made Geneva such a special place for me.

The last photo of that first bunch should make your mouth water. If it doesn't then your taste bugs haven't been configured properly. After a long hike with some co-workers we arrived at a farm that rested atop the mountain. This was the dish they brought us and it made every drop of sweat worth it.

Why do I love hiking so much? This might be a question that doesn't really need explanation. How could you not like hiking? It takes you outside of the city and puts you back into nature. It gives you a chance to either be alone with your thoughts or do something relaxing (but sometimes incredibly challenging) with your friends. There's really nothing like it.

There's something fishy here...

Let's start things off with a picture I took yesterday at the All Needs Supermarket.

Wait... what does that say?

This is Mamma G's Special Shito, a spicy sauce typically served on the side of any rice-based dish that you order. You find shito everywhere. Its composition makes it stand apart from other spicy sides. It gets its kick from cayenne pepper, but beyond this kick there is another flavor that can catch you off-guard if you're not careful: fish. While shito is about as common in Ghana as ketchup in the US, every household here prepares their own shito and the result is never the same. If you're like me and you love a good hot dish, then the days when the shito is spicy are a pleasure. The problem for me is that I don't really like it when my chicken tastes like fish, or when rice tastes like fish, or when the air I'm breathing tastes like fish. And that's a fact of life with shito. Some days it just tastes like Long John Silver's underpants.

Shito is hardly the only place where Ghanaians like to sneak in a little fish. I've actually found fish bones in just about every dish I've ordered here. For some (mostly Ghanaians, I imagine) this must be paradise. For me, it can range from just a little confusing to a bit of a meal-destroyer. It all depends the exact strength of the fish.

What it feels like

Some people don't like fish. I've always known that my dad is not particularly keen on it, but I've also recently discovered that my two brothers aren't big fans either. I love fish, or at least I thought I loved fish before I saw just what real love for fish looked like. There is a time and a place for everything, and it seems like the Ghanaian approach to fish is "always" and "everywhere." I just can't keep up.

There are ways around fish-overload. Find the places where the shito is typically more spice and less fish, but even that isn't a definite guarantee. Avoid the dishes where fish typically sneaks in, such as Red Red. (This dish is amazing when it's not too fishy. I'll try to get a photo up soon.) This is also a good place for reflecting upon the quote I used a few posts ago: If you can't stop the waves, so sailing. Little by little, I'm trying out the fishier side of life. With a little more than a month to go, you never know where I'll end up.

Maybe before coming home I'll be on par with the DrPH student working on the same project. On one of his last nights here, I saw him remove a fish head from the body (already dead and cooked, of course) and suck the brains from its skull. Even writing this makes my skin crawl. He also commented on the fine taste of the eyeballs.



Get some more Shito information here: http://www.efiashito.com/whatisshito.html.
The boxing fish picture came from http://www.cardmine.co.uk/list24/a240574.jpg.