Global Colgate

European Adventures

2009-12-01T16:40:55-05:00

November felt like a giant game of Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? Every weekend we were off in a different part of Spain or Europe, and now we have so little time remaining we can almost count the days left on two hands!

Amidst the final papers for Art, the theatrical events we attended for Theater, and our obsession with finding places that sell Palomitas for under 0,30 euros, we had too much fun. The first weekend of November was exhausting. My cousin invited a few of us to his concert in the Sala Caracol and we made posters to cheer him on in a Battle-of-the-Bands competition. The next morning we boarded a bus to Toledo to see the original capital city of Spain, complete with the union of the three major cultures of the country over time: Arab, Jewish, and Christian. Going with our Art and Cinema professors, we were given a short tour of the town, including a preserved mezquita, the cathedral, and a converted synagogue. We also finally saw the Tajo river we read about in Poetry as well! After eating our fill of mazapán we wandered around the city a little bit. The stores catered to tourism, but specialized in impressive swords, demasking, and chocolate con churros. While it was a very, very windy day, we enjoyed our visit immensely.

The following weekend was a cheap one for traveling and a lot of us used the occasion to fly abroad. My friends and I chose London for a change of pace, and we loved the city! While it took us a short bit to get accustomed to the accent, it was nice to hear everyone speaking our language once again. We took a tour of the major sights in the city, from Westminster Abbey and St. Paul's Cathedral to the Tower of London and even Platform 9 3/4. I can't say I was a huge fan of pub food, but we are spoiled here in Spain with some of the best cuisines in the world.

I found it particularly amusing to watch how Londoners run their day in comparison to Madrileños. In Madrid everything is open until very late, and the night doesn't end until the Metro closes at about 2 AM. Yet in London your dinner starts much, much earlier than our usual 9-10 PM here, and if you plan on going out with friends you're home by the latest at midnight we were told. Unfortunately we didn't realize this, and when we would order dinner, often we were the last ones in the restaurant while the staff would be cleaning up.

Weekend three in November consisted of a journey to the south of Spain to Granada, the last Moorish stronghold that lasted in the country. To say we walked around is an understatement, and our legs were so tired after touring the city the first day we could barely walk the next. We had an amazing visit to La Alhambra, the palace of the sultans later converted for Carlos V. The gardens of the Nazaries, the last royal dynasty before 1492, was jaw-droppingly-beautiful. Small labyrinths of hedges, fountains and impressive uses of water, climbing ivy and combinations of flowers all left you breathless. The palaces and castle itself were equally impressive, with views of the city, Sacramonte, usage of stucco, and gorgeous columns everywhere. Our tour guide, José Antonio (whose name should be read as though shouting), was hilarious in telling us stories and secrets about the royal families and the construction of the grounds.

Our second tour guide gave us a view of the Cathedral and mausoleum of the Catholic kings, Ferdinand and Isabella. Walking around the buildings was extremely amusing as we encountered gypsies offering to read our hands everywhere. We took a nighttime stroll to the top of a hill to view the Alhambra at night, and passed through some calles filled with teterías. These places were so colorful and aromatic we lingered around there the next day and eagerly bought our kebab lunches there too. Granada is known for its mountain of tapas you receive when ordering, and we helped ourselves to some very, very tasty montaditos when out.

Finally, our last weekend concluded in Paris! This was a trip I'd been dying to take, and the four of us that went loved the experience. We hit up the famous parts once again, including Notre Dame, Sainte Chapelle, the Louvre, the Arc d'Triomphe, walking down Champs-Elysees, the Eiffel Tower, the Musee d'Orsay, Sacre Couer, seeing the Moulin Rouge, and visiting Versailles! Luckily I have a friend who is currently studying abroad in Paris, and she gave us a small tour of the Latin Quarter as well. We ate very, very well (who can say no to a Banana-Nutella crépe?) and ended each night watching a famous movie about France or Paris. I have to admit I felt very uncomfortable in some situations in which we couldn't speak French, but for the most part people were very kind in helping us out along our way. We made up for the windy, rainy weather by stuffing ourselves with delicious bread and cheese, and filling ourselves up at breakfast before our kind bed-and-breakfast host gave us good ideas on what routes to take to see the city.

Of the four cities we visited I think London was perhaps my favorite. I think this may have stemmed from the ease we felt speaking the language, which certainly knocked down Paris by a few points in my book, but also because the Brits were very, very friendly to us. We came back from each city appreciating Madrid in new ways, but particularly praising our metro here for being the cleanest and most efficient. We also love our city for staying up later than its European counterparts at 6 PM. Furthermore, who can deny that sitting in the front section at the Bernabeu Stadium to watch Real Madrid is a bad time? We cheered on Ronaldo's entrance into the field wildly.

Though I must admit, I'm a Barcelona fan first.

And now it's crunch time for finals!

Ciao,

Natalia

L'acqua alta e come possiamo salvare Venezia

2009-12-01T15:25:38-05:00

As if by Professor Ammerman’s bidding, the siren woke me up at 5:15 Monday morning to announce the coming acqua alta – more than 130 centimeters above mean sea level, an event occurring on average only once every two years. After slowly wading through the streets and on more than one occasion climbing on buildings to avoid inundating my rubber boots, I walked into Italian class twenty minutes late, along with many of the Istituto’s students. Professor Ammerman arrived later with a grin. Only now can we conceptualize acqua alta and fully understand the semester’s studies.

All of the semester’s work started coming to crescendo last week as we prepared to break for Thanksgiving. Each of our four classes played a roll in last Tuesday’s panel discussion with Ortalli and Donello, two friends of Professor Ammerman who are major players in the debate surrounding saving Venice. The discussion covered topics from the beginnings of Venice and its archeology through the art and architecture of the city and the current state of Italian and specifically Venetian affairs. And the whole discussion was in Italian.

Ortalli, born in Bologna, moved to Venice in the early 1970s and Donello is a native Venetian. Even Professor Ammerman, who has been all but adopted into the city after 25+ years of close interaction, is a stragneri by comparison. But all three are greatly involved in the efforts to stop the current situation wherein saving Venice has become a painfully drawn-out profiteering exploitation by a nationally organized conglomeration.

It all started in 1966 when a combination of natural factors aligned to inundate Venice, and launch the city to global attention. Yes, the city flooded higher than ever before. Yes, residents were out of power and utilities for more than a week. Yes, the profuse historic monuments of the city sustained great damage from the salt. But there were no deaths, no buildings in the historic center destroyed, no irreversible damage to the city. None except perhaps for the way it is now perceived – as a stylish pet project of non-profits and for-profit organizations. Venetians never asked to be saved.

Then again, few would complain about the early works done in the city: restoring artwork, restarting the INSULA program which cleans canals and repairs foundations, re-beautifying palace facades, etc. But an early study proposed that the city needed protection from future floods; enter circus. The Magistrato alle Acque, a position dating from the Republic that was adopted by Italy after the unification, created the Consorzio Venezia Nuova, a conglomerate of construction corporations, which was charged with the testing, reviewing and construction of the proposed project: a moveable gate to block tidal surges.

Anyone can see that putting one for-profit group in charge of all aspects of such a costly program does not likely point to positive results. Few have been surprised that the cost keeps rising and minimal physical evidence of work has been seen – only one gate has been built, a test done in the 1980s; and the foundation has been laid in the mouths of the lagoon. And despite constant assurances that results will materialize, no construction seems prepared in the near future.

With men like Ortalli, Donello and Professor Ammerman who have been fighting for Venice’s future from the beginning, as each day passes with more money wasted on the CVN and no positive results to show for it, it is understandable that they are far less optimistic. This is not to say that they have an alternative solution. They suggest looking at Venice’s past to help secure its future; that is to revert to the Venetian engineering tradition of open-minded trial and error.

A piu tardi!

Ciao.

Andy

settling in

2009-11-23T15:13:57-05:00

I was talking to my mom today and she asked me: "are you settling in?" I immediately responded that I sure hope I've settled in because I have been here 3 months and if there is any hope that I'll "settle in " before I leave, I better achieve that soon. But, after we were done talking, I got to thinking- am I really settling in here in Ghana??

I guess i knew that everything would pretty much be completely different in Ghana and that I would have a hard time adjusting to the cultural differences, the foods, etc. But, to be honest I was more worried about classes and making friends. I have since realized that those have probably been the easiest part of the semester. The beginning of last week reminded me of a typical week at Colgate. I had a test on Monday, and a paper due the same day for a different class. Wednesday I had two papers due for my psychology class, so I spent most of Tuesday working on those papers. However, after Wednesday I found myself with nothing to do and completely finished with assignments for the week. If I were faced with this situation at Colgate, I would know exactly what to do: spend an afternoon at the COOP talking with friends, spend an extra long time at the gym and then maybe venture out after dinner, anything to avoid Case. Maybe a bit boring and typical, but it satisfies me. Here, though, my free afternoons usually turn into some type of adventure and cultural experience-- never typical or boring.

On Thursday, after class, a few friends and I decided to go to the Accra Art and Culture Center. The art center is the epitome of a typical tourist spot. The place abounds with low-priced jewelry, t-shirts and cheaply made dresses. An unknowing passer-through could easily be conned into spending $10 on a factory made necklace and all of the vendors are very good at convincing people that their product is worth the extra money. Fortunately, I have been in Ghana long enough to know that bargaining is absolutely necessary because vendors will quote ridiculous prices that are usually 2-3 times higher than what they will sell it for. In order to save money, we took a tro-tro, which is not my ideal form of transportation and is not for anyone who desires comfort or quick arrival. The tro-tro is usually an incredibly old van of some sort that goes from designated spots around the city. People hop on and off at random times and every person is expected to pay (usually about 20 cents). It sounds great in theory, but these vans are always packed with more people than were ever meant to fit in one van or minibus and the door is most likely held shut by a leather strap. People have their heads sticking out of windows trying to get fresh air and the constant movement of passengers in and out can get confusing. At the beginning of the semester, I was terrified of tro-tros, mostly because I thought i would get lost. The drivers have hand signals and abbreviations for the stations and if you don't know them, you could end up on the wrong side of the city.

Anyway, so we got to the art center later in the afternoon than we had originally planned and the vendors were beginning to close up their shops, but this ended up being an advantage because they all were really eager to sell. I walked away only spending about 15$ and had a necklace, 2 t-shirts, a soccer jersey and a painting. I was pretty proud of myself and my new found bargaining skills. It will be a little bit upsetting when I get home and can't argue for a lower price. As usual, I was completely exhausted when we got home (it took over an hour to get back because of the TERRIBLE Accra traffic), and we enjoyed an evening of movie watching!

Friday I have no class at all, so about 6 of us went to the pool for the morning, which is something I have never enjoyed in mid-November before. After tanning for an unhealthily long time, we went to lunch at one of the best restaurants in the neighborhood. And, even though the place looks like it could be in New York, the service was true to Ghanaian standards. Our food took about an hour and half, but it was delicious and reminded me of home. It was a pretty good end to the week, but I can't expect it to happen again as finals are approaching! -Kalin

Doing Rome

2009-11-19T12:20:21-05:00

In class this week, Professor Ammerman summed up our recent trip to Rome and Pompeii quite well. “So we just spent about 30 hours of class time in the past week. That is time in front of the particular sites, without counting the walking to and from. That is what you would have at Colgate in 10 weeks of a 3 hours a week class. So this was good. Now you can say you did Rome; you did Pompeii. We like this.”

Of course we hit the expected sites of the Roman Forum, the Coliseum, the houses and brothels of Pompeii, and the Pantheon, and even visited some more obscure sites like the Villa Oplontis, Theater of Marcellus, and the Crypt of Balbi. Each student prepared a presentation for a different site in Rome for which we focused on the archeological and historical significance of a monument, each surviving to varying degree.

But seeing the sites, even with a noted expert as a guide, could not truly qualify as doing Rome as Professor Ammerman had in mind. He decided to bring us to the setting of an amusing story about his archeology in the city. To that end, we gathered on the side of the Capitoline hill examining volcanic tuft, a Roman building block, and Professor prefaced his next move by telling us to act as though we belong.

He led us across the street and through a group of repairmen to go up a flight of stairs into the police headquarters. Despite our best efforts to belong, the profusion of bright colored raincoats and handbags, among other such cultural clues, betrayed that we were likely not officers of the law. So three big uniformed men stopped Professor in the hallway and called their superior. As Professor explained himself to the police, we gave up hope of belonging, and instead focused our attention on the statue of Romulus and Remus feeding from a she-wolf.

When the supervisor finally arrived, he brought us through the hallway to a courtyard and took Professor into his office, leaving the eleven of us to play telephone under the supervision of a uniformed officer in his squad car. Professor later relayed that the supervisor dismissed his assistants and only then revealed his own interest in archeology and hinted at his own work. When the pair finally remerged into the courtyard where Professor had cored years before, the supervisor led us under the station to show us Professor’s discovery of the Temple of Deified Augustus. The supervisor then led us into the next room and revealed a corner of the structure which he had found himself; such novice excavations are technically illegal.

So we saw how Italy works under the table, and did ancient Rome in the process. So this was good.

A piu tardi!

Ciao.

Andy

Community Service

2009-11-10T04:25:18-05:00

One of the aspects of the NYU in Ghana program that I like the most is that community service and volunteer work are really encouraged by the staff, and they will go to great lengths to get us involved in working with the community in a way that interests us. I had been volunteering at GHANET, which is the Ghana HIV/Aids network because I have an interest in going into public health. However, this project did not end up working out so I found myself more than halfway through the semester with no community work to do. Thankfully, all of the people that I am studying here with are really excited about bringing along other people to their volunteer sites, so I am planning on joining my friends at different sites around Accra for my remaining weeks here.

I have Fridays completely free so I decided to join my roommate in going to the State School for the Deaf, Accra. She is able to communicate pretty well in American Sign Language so she found one of the only schools that are catered towards deaf children in the country. We woke up at 6:30am and walked about 20 minutes to the Labone Station where the school bus picked us up. Children travel from all over the greater Accra region to go to this school so the bus was packed. Although it was probably meant to accommodate 20 children, there were easily 40. There were kids standing in the aisles and sitting on each others laps, but it was amazing that there was no fighting over seats and there seemed to be an air of excitement about going to school. The children range from pre-K to high school and I had the chance to have a conversation with a 17-year old girl on the hour bus ride (we communicated through writing). We finally arrived at the school after about an hour and Miranda and I were greeted warmly from all of the children there. About 15 of them immediately ran over looking for hugs from Miranda and introductions from me.

We spend the most part of the morning in the pre-K class which has children from 4-12 years old, but they are all pretty much at the same academic level. Few of them know many signs, so we were working on the alphabet and making the connection between what the letter looks like and its sign. We brought construction paper and markers so that we could draw the letters, and the children were absolutely mesmerized my all of this. Most of these kids had never even seen markers or construction paper because the only resource available to them in the classroom in one chalkboard and chalk, so they were occupied by the art supplies for a few hours. Around noon they had recess, which consisted of playing in the dirt yard that had 4 swings (3 of which were broken) and some spinning metal contraption that has been outlawed on American playgrounds for decades. The whole time Miranda and I were grimacing in fear that one of the kids was going to break an arm. At 1:00pm we had to leave in order to get back to NYU in time for class, and all of the children came to the gate to wave goodbye!

I am really glad that I had the chance to see a Ghanaian school and understand how the education system here works. One thing that was particularly upsetting for me was that the teachers use physical punishment on the children. Some of this might be because it was a school for deaf children and words lose their effectiveness, but I have heard from others that the teachers at the average public school hit the children. The physical force used by the teachers encourages the children to hit one another, which is also very common. The children get in trouble, however, when they hit one another so I think they are confused. The teachers are setting a really poor example and the physical force or punishment never really solves anything, only tears. One of the other really obvious problems is the complete lack of resources available for the teachers. There is one chalkboard in the classroom, no paper or pencils, no calculators for the older children and very few books. These resources are even more important in a school that caters to children with special needs, but the funds simply are not there. The best we can do for now is to continue to go into school and bring our ideas and markers

Differences

2009-11-08T14:05:49-05:00

This week was full of interesting conversations with friends and "family" comparing our lifestyles to those of people our age in Madrid and Spain at large. On Wednesday Kayleigh's mother was in town and invited us to dinner. Sitting across from Kayleigh's host mother we developed a conversation about politics, economics, and working. Unfortunately in Spain the current rate of unemployment is only climbing and hovers near 20% (which they often point out to us when we say we have it bad).

Searching for work here is an adventure I've seen my host sister and Nicoletta go through. Marcela's boyfriend, Alfonso, sent out 75 separate applications to jobs, and only heard back from one. Just coming away with his degree, his 9-5 job only offers him a 300-euro compensation per month; he's practically an intern. Shrugging his shoulders at the situation he told us he had to do something in the meantime. Marcela and Nicoletta are also searching for anything they can get their hands on, and Nicoletta wakes up every morning to do four hours of job-hunting before taking her house keeping post for the rest of the day.

Kayleigh's host mother told me that her daughters had chosen to move to the US where they were bound to find better opportunities, especially in pharmaceuticals. She told me that in the US we have a better mentality of what it takes to earn a job--if you work hard in school and submit the right application, you will be noticed. Yet in Spain the approach is different, and as told by my cousins in the past as well, it's not about how well you know your job, but rather who you know. To say networking is important is an understatement, as in reality it is all that exists currently. For example, at dinner the other night when Nicoletta informed us of her fruitless job search that day, Alfonso offered to call one of the employer's she'd submitted an application to in an attempt to put her foot in the door.

Interestingly, the adults our age here also don't strive as hard to find work. When telling people about our school year's length they ask us what we do with those summer months to ourselves. We inform them about our summer job's and internships, and they look at us astounded. Here, college students don't bother looking for work unless absolutely necessary, and interestingly, don't plan to leave their parents' house immediately after graduation. Instead it's very common to hear that someone nearing their 30s is still at home.

On Friday Nicoletta and I shared a heart-to-heart and she told me she was sick of the mentality of staying home with her mother and giving up part of her wages to send home. She told me she planned on moving out as soon as she could afford it and that she was going to begin her own life, independent of the wishes of her parents and the customs here. On top of it, she said she admired our American mentality of hard-work and trying things on your own, but admittedly, she seems to be one of the few in these last few weeks who sees Americans positively. Though she told me her expectations of us differed from how I present myself, and lately I've found that my purpose here is to be an ambassador of a positive image of the Western Hemisphere.

Here's to impressing London next!

Natalia

Venetian Halloween

2009-11-05T13:29:39-05:00

We have been bashed over the head all semester about how traditions halt human development. Art serves to perpetuate the status quo. Holidays cause us to celebrate the past rather than advance. Human development has greatly accelerated as education spread so that individuals can more readily see the flaws in tradition. As students, we should be dismissing such outdated institutions as Halloween, All Saint’s Day Eve. How ridiculous it is that spirits will rise up and haunt the living. How warped it is that we hoard candy and brutalize innocent gourds. But goshdarnit, we wanted Halloween.

Italian pumpkins are green, squat and big, although the supermarket also had “zucce halloween” for carving. Early Friday morning, I sliced our pumpkin through the middle and put a half into the oven. I beat together my last two eggs, dumped them into the flour and kneaded a batch of pasta dough. I finished the dough and pulled the pumpkin from the oven right before leaving for Professor Carroll’s class in the Academia Gallery.

After several hours of absorbing Venetian painting, I returned to the kitchen to (eat lunch and) continue preparing supper. I borrowed eggs for the second batch of pasta dough and I mashed the pumpkin, sautéed a minced shallot, and mixed in ricotta for the stuffing. As dinnertime approached, I enlisted Caroline and Howard to help stuff and fork the ravioli while Hiep and Preston labored over the apple strudel.

When the girls from the other apartment arrived, Liz joined the ravioli assembly line while Alayna, Kathyrne and Melissa brainstormed ideas for the jack-o-lantern. When the cloth we had failed to roll the strudel, we abandoned the form and instead lined a baking dish with dough and loaded in the apples, topped it with another layer of dough and set it aside to wait for dessert. Howard dropped the first round of finished ravioli into the water just as I tended to the leaks and butter for the sauce. I added the mascarpone when the burner was a bit too hot, so the sauce took on an oily look, but the cooked ravioli were starting to stick, so it was time to eat. We served the pumpkin ravioli slightly after the planned 7:30 seating, and even with a sub-par sauce, the meal was very tasty.

After the ravioli, Preston and the girls carved the pumpkin and set aside the seeds for baking. The apple confection disappeared quickly when it came out of the oven, and distracted us enough for the pumpkin seeds to overcook. Nonetheless, the evening was a successful attempt at the season.

A piu tardi!

Ciao.

Andy

Up North

2009-11-04T08:27:31-05:00

This past weekend we went on the last and longest trip of the semester. Early on Thursday morning (4:30 am) we left Accra on a 12 hour bus-ride across the country and to the capitol of the Northern region, Tamale. The northern regions of Ghana are known as being the poorer, less developed areas and are also home to different cultures and languages than those found in the south. When I told people in Accra that I was traveling to the north, most asked why and told me that there was nothing there and that it was too hot and dry. So, I went into the trip thinking that I would not really enjoy the weekend, but I will venture to say that my trip to Tamale and other areas of the northern region was the best trip I have done here in Ghana

Although the bus ride was long and hot, it was really amazing to see the landscape change as we moved north. I had never been north of Kumasi, which is in the south central part of Ghana, so it was interesting to see the terrain change. We went through mountainous regions and then could clearly see that we were moving into the sahel, which is the southern part of the Sahara. The trees and more dense forest turned into savannah, and it looked like scenes from the “Lion King”, or the typical mental picture most people have of Africa.

We arrived in Tamale at about 5:30 pm on Thursday evening; we were staying at the Tamale Institute of Cross-Cultural Studies (TICCS), which is a very basic hostel in town. About ten minutes after we arrived it started down pouring, which is not typical for the region, especially since it is the dry season. It rained through the night, which kept our rooms cool, but made travel the next day difficult due to the mud and giant puddles.

On Friday we had a lecture by one of the professors at the University of Northern Ghana who talked a lot about the North and why there is such a disparity between the north and the south in the terms of economic and educational opportunity. We were also introduced to the major cultures and languages that exist in the region and how they differ from the ethnic groups we are used to seeing in the south. The lecture was followed by a tour of the central mosque of Tamale, which is predominately Islamic, and it was my first experience ever being in a mosque! We also had a tour of some of the major points of the city and went to a market. While we were in the city, we went to visit a private medical clinic, run by a man named Dr. Abdulai, who has dedicated his life to the homeless and dejected peoples of northern Ghana. In Ghana, there are many problems with the healthcare system, so many people cannot afford to go to a hospital and receive even the most basic care. Because the northern region is the most impoverished, a large majority of the people who need medical attention never receive it. Dr. Abdulai receives no formal donation from any organization, but lives day to day from private contributions. He has been able to open two clinics and is able to help about 100 patients a day and also has an emergency room and an operation theatre. At the very end of the day our group of 30 broke up into three smaller groups and we all went to visit diviners in the villages around the city. A diviner is similar to a psychic or a fortune teller, and in exchange for about $1 I was told my fortune as well as what I should be doing in the present to ensure a long and happy life. I had never been to any kind of fortune teller so it was a little bit unnerving to hear someone tell me about what is going to happen in the future. Everything was good!

Saturday morning we left the hostel at 8:00 am to go further north to Bolgatanga, which is in the Upper East region. Outside of the city there is a place called Paga, which is right on the border with Burkina Faso. Paga is one of the many slave-holding camps in this region. Recently, the land has been turned into a museum of sorts, but there are no buildings or memorials only signs that give a general idea of how the camp was laid out. In all of my schooling, I never learned about the slave trade within Africa and how Africans had such a large role in the initial capture and enslavement of peoples. Up to 100 people were held in Paga at one time, tied to trees and forced to work for their capturers until they were taken south to the major slave markets where they were sold to Europeans as well as wealthy Africans. We were only outside at the camp for about an hour, but the sun was blistering and there was no coastal breeze so most of us were unbearably hot. But, we had a nice shaded bus to go back to and full water bottles, compared to the people who were once prisoners and slaves in this camp so I really could not find it in myself to complain.

For me, the best part of the whole trip was when we went to visit a widows village in Bolgatanga. In Northern Ghanaian cultures, widows and their children are ostracized because they are seen to be witches. When a woman dies before her husband it is automatically assumed that she killed him and she is usually banished from the community. We went to a village where widows and their children survive off of the baskets that the women weave and sell at local markets. The widows were incredibly generous in giving us a basket weaving lesson and welcoming us into their community for the afternoon. We had the chance to play with their children and also buy some of their work. Our group was able to donate clothing and other things that we have been collecting all semester. It was amazing to see how happy and determined these women were in spite of their situation.

We left very early sunday morning (4:00am) for the 12-hour bus ride home... The weekend was exhausting and I feel like I am still recovering, but it was an absolutely amazing experience and I am incredibly grateful that we were given the opportunity to see the Northern regions. You cannot say you have seen Ghana if you have never been outside of Accra. You cannot say you know Ghana unless you see the Northern regions. Until next time, Kalin