Angst (ɑŋkst)

n. a feeling of dread, anxiety, or anguish.

These photos were taken worlds and years apart, however the emotion is one in the same.  (Left) Early one sticky morning in the small village of Humjibre, West Ghana,  I walked out of my cinder block house and followed a dirt trail that lead to the road into town. Halfway up the hill, dodging potholes and speeding taxi cars, is a small community clinic where nurses hold a monthly baby-weighing session for local mothers. Infant mortality is high in the Sefwi-Bibiani Bekwai region and the clinic tracks infant development in the community. I had volunteered to help out the week before and, if truth be told, I was more curious of the baby-weighing visuals than the actual tracking process. It was an hour of angry baby yelps and cries and mothers chuckling as their wriggling bodies were placed into a cloth swing and extend into empty space.

(Right) During my 3rd year studying Photojournalism at WKU, I was exposed for the first time to the joys of high school football. Our assigned was a sports picture story and I began following the Edmonson Co. High School Wildcats, a small high school nestled in the hills of rural Kentucky. I spent afternoons at practices and in stinky locker rooms and Friday evenings football games. The boys first felt like celebrities and approached me like a weird outsider with a camera. Then they either got tired of the effort it took to pay attention to me or got used to my unflagging presence and I became another (strange) member of the team. They finished up their season in style and made their first trip to the semi-finals since 1998. The game was emotional and freezing cold. I remember watching the mist slowly coat the football field as the frenzy paused for half time. The tough seniors reaction to their loss was hugely emotional. I watched as these big, tobacco-chewing boys broke down and cried in each others arms. 

Years later, I was sifting through thousands of images from different continents, cultures and peoples and the similarities of these two images and how I reacted to them caught my eye. My ears may always ring when thinking about that morning filled with crying babies and I may never unhear (and unlearn) the random locker room conversations that took place between those hormonal adolescent boys, but the memories were more than worth it!

Hope your day was better than this little guys! x

Happy birthday Ghana!

I was awoken early Tuesday with the sound of beating drums resonating from the village and the pitter patter of running feet and excited voices. Today was a big day, March 6th marks Ghana's 55th independence day anniversary and on March 6th you march! All the village children dressed up in their best school uniforms and their whitest of white socks (which in rural, dusty Humjibre where all laundry is done by hand without bleach, keeping whites white is quite a feat) ready to show off the marching skills they'd been diligently practicing for the past two weeks. In the hot morning sun, the children lined up with their classmates as young boys began pounding out the beat on their drums. They marched through Humjibre's dusty main street and up the hill to the football field where they marched their little hearts out in a marching competition in front of the entire village. After a rousing game of football accompanied by some drinking and dancing in the streets, the evening ended in a clap of thunder and a cleansing Spring downpour.

Ghana is a relatively young country, but their heart beats strong!

Introducing the lovely children of Humjibre, Western Ghana, and my new home for the next year!

After lugging all that I own in the world (aside from a few boxes of books holed up at my parents house) onto 3 different taxis and 2 different buses, we finally rounded the last curved, cleared the last pot hole, and parked in front of the GHEI sign by the side of the road. Curious children ran to us to help haul my bags and to inspect the new "obruni" and welcoming drinks were arranged over fried chicken.

My village is small, remote, with 13 Christian churches and a handful of local watering holes. In the mornings I am woken by the passionate ramblings of local preachers on the loud speakers and the clanking of pots and pans as the children walk by to collect water. The first thing you are asked is "What day were you born?" and from that you are assigned a name that is the day of the week you were born on. I was apparently born on Tuesday (had to google that one) and my Ghanaian name is "Abina."

After only three days in Humjibre, I have already been give 2 avocados, attended an engagement ceremony where the bride and groom were in the States, eaten lbs of fried rice and omelet sandwiches and spotted loads of fresh fruits and vegetables!

This makes me a happy happy girl! ;)
In a very short time I'm learning loads of important things such as how to hand wash my laundry, kill massive spiders, amuse young Ghanaian kids with my camera, and shoot ginger alcohol!

Until text time! x