Got a ton of things done today. Had a bunch of mailing to do, registered with the GoC as a visiting citizen (which apparently comes in handy should anything unexpected go down when I’m in Ghana), bought some money orders and went to my cohort meeting. We talked a little more about the program and I guess it’s best described as follows; there’s a lot of emphasis on North/South relations in any globalization class you take post-secondary, but it’s all textbook information. Simply put, the point of this trip is going to be experiencing some of the things that are going down in the developing world (many a result of the consumptive patterns and exploitative nature of the West), in the context of being a pre-service teacher interested in creating little global citizens. I still know very little about what I’m getting myself into, but I’m making sure to keep an open mind in order to have it (for lack of a better word) exploded. It seems to me that this year is all about shaking up my little routines and I have come to really embrace all the new challenges that keep popping up. But I digress.
I picked up the new Nightmarchers record yesterday. They’re the new project of one Mr. John Reis, aka Speedo (see: Rocket From the Crypt, Hot Snakes). The album is fantastic, not only does it pick up where the last Hot Snakes record left off, but there’s a lot more of a 50’s rock and roll feel to the album and hey, it’s nice to hear Speedo’s voice again. I was always a big fan of “Mystery Boy” on Auto Midnight and I feel like he finally made the record I wanted to hear since then.
It’s very humid here, my hair is huge and it seems like the tomato plants are not enjoying it. Last night an old friend dropped by unannounced and we spent the evening on the stoop with a bottle of wine catching up. It’s a magical thing when you can pick up where you left off a long time ago. In some ways it feels like it’s been forever since we last had to opportunity to really hang out but in others, it’s like yesterday we went on our first tour together.
