but for now we are young

things are calmer. more settled in and feeling more at home because patterns are emerging. i now always remember my toilet-paper-to-go. and some of us gather for tea-time every morning which kind of means talking for hours with hiked-up nightgowns in front of fans until we have class. and i have managed to significantly reduce the mildew-y scent of my hand-washed and hung-to-dry towels, though a lingering smell is still haunting me and everyone who hates wet-towel smell. i hate wet-towel smell more than anything. i will conquer mildew in due time.

this is where i live, Volta Hall, the all-girls dorm that is constantly crawling with all-hormones boys. the sign speaks for itself. and isn't the courtyard pretty?

one of my roommates, anjalee
for wilder

my corner


AIDS signs like this everywhere and all over
the campus is covered but the lack of dialog renders them useless. my professor made a joke about people thinking you have HIV if you're too skinny and the whole class laughed and i was confused about the comedic value. students also giggle at the mention of domestic abuse. sex is taboo, yet many or most students are sexually active. so you don't tell anyone when you have sex and rape is easier and people will laugh at you if you buy condoms from the pharmacy. only recently condoms have been made available on top of the counter instead of behind the glass in order to minimize embarrassment. but the stigma still prevents their purchase.


the tro-tro station just outside of campus, how we get around.
the main road right outside of campus

my friend quincy
he does passport photos on campus and he did all of mine for class registration. i try to visit frequently. he likes my cameras so i bring them by and we talk. business is slow so we sit uninterrupted, against the red cloth backdrop of his passport set-up. this photograph is from when i first showed him my polaroid camera. i asked if he had any family with the aim of suggesting he put it up for them but he said no. he became instantly saddened and i changed the subject but i could still see it in his eyes.



our dressmaker, Lydia
she laughs a lot and hurried her hands to fix hair before photographs. we bring fabric and barely explain and she knows exactly what we want.

her apprentice, Jennifer
she is beautiful. she scrambles for measurements and squeals 'me too' when i take out my camera to photograph Lydia.



a monkey fiasco
this is where i buy water, soymilk, and occasionally peach juice. it's a two-minute walk from Volta Hall, if that. a monkey on the loose meant women screaming and running. i can't get over the fact that there was a monkey swinging around the corner store. oh, africa.

my friend, belinda
Belinda's interests: Akon, her hat, gang signs, Sean Paul. first she insisted on dozens of photos of herself, a video of her rapping, then a photo with me but NOT smiling 'adwoa stop smiling NO smiling' [see below]. adwoa is my day name, monday-born, pronounced 'ad-joo-a.' Belinda sings a lot and told me i was bad at doing the gang-sign-poses of her creation. i tried really hard but will refrain from posting those photos. they're kind of incriminating.


a day trip to Aburi: beautiful botanical garden, an overgrown cemetery, village children hugging and tugging, blues.


the garden. everything big big big. the trees majestic.





the sleepy village. colorful.










this side of the blue