I'm taking some time off from the blog to finish my last requirement to graduate from business school: a white paper on "any subject related to international business," according to my friendly academic adviser. The paper is intended to fulfill the school's vaunted international requirement, which can be addressed by: A) this paper, or B) an alcohol-infused, one-week trip to a business school outside the US.
The reader will note two things from these stipulations: first, that I chose the option with the least alcohol, and second, that the school expects a drinking vacation with a few business lectures to create a globally-aware graduating class.
Neither of these points, it may be said, sits very well with me. I couldn't go on the international business exposure trip because - get this - I actually took a job internationally. To add insult to injury, though, this year the trip was destined for Santiago, Chile - rocked by an earthquake five days before the trip was due to leave. Understandably, school administrators decided to cancel the trip and waive the requirement for my those of my classmates who were due to travel there. Equally understandably, in my view, I wrote from Ghana to ask for my requirement to be waived as well, so that I could get on with the work of serving as a school ambassador in my international work.
The administrators didn't budge - so, instead of another blog posting, you get pictures for now, until I finish my little project. Enjoy!
(FYI - if the links below aren't clickable, just copy and paste them into your browser.)
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=437020&id=533250187&l=86ea3f3a38
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=410046&id=533250187&l=c02bfab88b
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
It's in the Container
So Jessica got here a week ago, with Bock in tow. We're all adjusting, and the start of the rainy season has made things much easier.
Let's take a side road here on "the rainy season." We don't use the term in the A-murr-ican South, ostensibly (I thought) because our rain isn't ever heavy enough to justify describing an entire part of the year. So - when someone from Africa or Asia or Seattle talks about "the rainy season," I imagine a deluge - walls of wind and water, umbrellas collapsing under gale force, ducks swimming across flooded roads.
"The rainy season," at least in Ghana, is a quick rainstorm in the afternoon. And boy, is it nice...drops the temperature about 15 degrees and gives the plants and buildings a nice washing. In Atlanta, this is called "August." So, I suppose congratulations are in order, America - you officially have a rainy season.
Anyway - the rainy season is here, along with Jess and Bock. Our container, on the other hand, is taking its sweet time: 1360 cubic feet of worldly wealth just yawing its way, starboard-port, port-starboard, from Savannah to Tema. It's been in transit for just under 3 months at this point. I won't be surprised if it ends up arriving on a raft with Huck Finn at the helm.
Ok, maybe Huck isn't involved...but seriously - it's been out of our possession for a long, long time, since early February. So now that we're here, "it's in the container" has become the default answer of the season:
"Where is my hairbrush?" (It's in the container.)
"Have you seen my gray t-shirt? (It's in the container.)
"What happened to my sanity? (It's in the container.)
We packed the infamous container on February 6th in Atlanta, with an expectation that it might ship by February 20 or so and then get to us in Ghana around April 15. That was the plan.
What happened was not the plan:
1. January 20 - survey of house, they tell us everything should fit.
2. January 22 - shipping coordinator tells me no alcohol can go on the container, so we "better drink up. After all, there's nothing like a relocation to drive you to drink!" Uh-oh.
3. February 6 - house packed up, they tell us (again) everything should fit.
4. February 8 - Jess and I head to Ghana for a househunting trip.
5. February 9 - Ghana contact says my work permit needs to be filed before they can ship the container from the US.
6. February 18 - Jess and I leave Ghana, without my work permit filed because the guy that I'm replacing is still in the job.
7. February 19 - Guy I'm replacing is relieved of duty.
8. March 20 - I return to Ghana.
9. March 24 - I file my work permit.
10. March 31 - they try to load the container. Everything does NOT fit. When I ask why they didn't load the container earlier so that we could have avoided this, I get the e-mail equivalent of a shoulder shrug.
11. April 3 - Jessica comes back from a trip Kenya, goes to warehouse to approve taking a bunch of stuff off the container.
12. April 16 - stuff taken off the container arrives back at our house in Atlanta. A couch cushion from a couch that's ON the container is included in the stuff that arrives back at our house...meanwhile, I brought a separate cushion from a couch that was taken OFF the container in my suitcase to Ghana. We ask them to DHL the cushion to us. I doubt we'll be seeing that cushion again.
13. April 20 - container finally ships from Savannah
14. June 1 - date container is expected at House F2, Doku Ogana St, Accra
15. August 15 - date container will probably arrive at House F2, Doku Ogana St, Accra
16. Never - date we will trust a pre-shipment survey again.
- PG
Let's take a side road here on "the rainy season." We don't use the term in the A-murr-ican South, ostensibly (I thought) because our rain isn't ever heavy enough to justify describing an entire part of the year. So - when someone from Africa or Asia or Seattle talks about "the rainy season," I imagine a deluge - walls of wind and water, umbrellas collapsing under gale force, ducks swimming across flooded roads.
"The rainy season," at least in Ghana, is a quick rainstorm in the afternoon. And boy, is it nice...drops the temperature about 15 degrees and gives the plants and buildings a nice washing. In Atlanta, this is called "August." So, I suppose congratulations are in order, America - you officially have a rainy season.
Anyway - the rainy season is here, along with Jess and Bock. Our container, on the other hand, is taking its sweet time: 1360 cubic feet of worldly wealth just yawing its way, starboard-port, port-starboard, from Savannah to Tema. It's been in transit for just under 3 months at this point. I won't be surprised if it ends up arriving on a raft with Huck Finn at the helm.
Ok, maybe Huck isn't involved...but seriously - it's been out of our possession for a long, long time, since early February. So now that we're here, "it's in the container" has become the default answer of the season:
"Where is my hairbrush?" (It's in the container.)
"Have you seen my gray t-shirt? (It's in the container.)
"What happened to my sanity? (It's in the container.)
We packed the infamous container on February 6th in Atlanta, with an expectation that it might ship by February 20 or so and then get to us in Ghana around April 15. That was the plan.
What happened was not the plan:
1. January 20 - survey of house, they tell us everything should fit.
2. January 22 - shipping coordinator tells me no alcohol can go on the container, so we "better drink up. After all, there's nothing like a relocation to drive you to drink!" Uh-oh.
3. February 6 - house packed up, they tell us (again) everything should fit.
4. February 8 - Jess and I head to Ghana for a househunting trip.
5. February 9 - Ghana contact says my work permit needs to be filed before they can ship the container from the US.
6. February 18 - Jess and I leave Ghana, without my work permit filed because the guy that I'm replacing is still in the job.
7. February 19 - Guy I'm replacing is relieved of duty.
8. March 20 - I return to Ghana.
9. March 24 - I file my work permit.
10. March 31 - they try to load the container. Everything does NOT fit. When I ask why they didn't load the container earlier so that we could have avoided this, I get the e-mail equivalent of a shoulder shrug.
11. April 3 - Jessica comes back from a trip Kenya, goes to warehouse to approve taking a bunch of stuff off the container.
12. April 16 - stuff taken off the container arrives back at our house in Atlanta. A couch cushion from a couch that's ON the container is included in the stuff that arrives back at our house...meanwhile, I brought a separate cushion from a couch that was taken OFF the container in my suitcase to Ghana. We ask them to DHL the cushion to us. I doubt we'll be seeing that cushion again.
13. April 20 - container finally ships from Savannah
14. June 1 - date container is expected at House F2, Doku Ogana St, Accra
15. August 15 - date container will probably arrive at House F2, Doku Ogana St, Accra
16. Never - date we will trust a pre-shipment survey again.
- PG
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