The GoGlobal Blog

Search

Category: USAC

Spring Break: Part 3 – Rusland

Spring Break: Part 3 – Rusland

Day 6: Thursday (Entering and Customs)

It literally took us a full 24 hours to get into Russia. (Cami, who was extremely upset at that fact, said she “will never forget” it). As everyone was trying to leave the boat, it got so jam packed that no one could move, so Vince and I just sat on the ground to wait out the crowd. When we finally left the boat, it was snowing and freezing outside—exactly what you would imagine Russia to be like. To get to boarder control, we had to take our first steps on Russian soil over to a nearby building. Just as Vince is telling me that we can’t take pictures at the borders, I snap a picture of him, the boat, and the blizzard around us. He laughed at me but later was really grateful because he ended up loving the photo I took.

 

Vince and the boat – our first steps on Russian soil.

We realized that our ESN group must have met somewhere on the boat and we missed it because we were the first one to get to customs. At first, it was as scary as I was imagining. Vince went first, then me and Nick went in tandem. I just stayed extremely quiet and did what they told me to do. Cami, who was still upset with how long it took to enter the country, noted that she felt like we have to beg to get into Russia, or at least that’s how it felt to her.

Particularly because we went first, we had to wait forever for the rest of the ESN group to finally enter Russia. We just found seats in the building and ate the rest of our food.  We were glad we got there first so we could relax. Just as we were saying how easy it was to get into Russia, we learned about how the only two people of color were stopped by border control and have been in questioning for the past hour…. sickening, I tell you. The male was taken first and was interrogated for 15 minutes. Then the girl was told to follow, the guards not even looking at her passport before telling her to step aside. So, in short, border control was easy, but only if you are white… After an hour and a half, our ESN leader decided we had to board the bus for our city tour without them.

The first thing the tour guide said was, “Believe it or not, you are in Russia.”

We saw and learned a lot while on that tour bus. Saint Isaac’s Cathedral, the church that used to be the main church for the entire city, is probably one of the most impressive buildings I’ve seen in my life. Russia, with 342 bridges, is nicknamed “The Venice of the North”. Interestingly, 1/10 (approximately half a million people) live in communal apartments in Saint Petersburg. They are basically like a dorm or hostel style living arrangement to keep costs down because most of the people are extremely poor.

Usually I don’t like organized tours, especially those on busses in which you are unable to walk around through the city. However, for several reasons I was grateful to start our stay in Russia with a city tour. One, I was exhausted. Two, the weather was snowy and cold. And three, the tour guide just knew so much about the city! I found it fascinating to learn about it in way I never would have if I had traveled individually.

Despite what I just said, it was too difficult to not fall asleep for a little on the warm, rumbling bus, so soon I drifted off with my head resting against Cami’s shoulder.

Eventually, we arrived at our hostel that we would be living at for the next few days. Luckily, my little crew was called first for our room assignment as well. We had the very top floor and a nice big room all together. Due to our enormous hunger, we immediately went food shopping to try to find items for a communal dinner and for food the next day. It was the hardest shop of my life because I was just so tired and hungry that I was paralyzed and was unable to make an decisions. Cami opted for going solo for dinner so the guys and I bought pasta with meats and vegetables. Cooking took ages (figures) but it was kind of fun all cutting and cooking together. The hostel’s cooking supplies was subpar (no pepper!), so that contributed to the extended wait time. Around 10pm, we had finally finished and I proceeded to eat till I was in pain. Climbing the 5 flights of stairs right after meant that I had to immediately lie down for a little to digest all I had consumed.

Later that night, Cami and Nick decided they didn’t want to go out for whatever reason, so it was just Sam, Vince, and I who set out for a night in Russia. We happened to met a guy named Victor in our hostel who is from Russia. He took us under his wing and showed us the ropes with the public transit, using random cars as taxis, not allowing to take pictures in the tunnels to the trains, etc. Speaking of, I LOVE the metro system in Saint Petersburg!! It is just so cool! Victor said that the deepest is about 100 meters, and to get down there you ride the longest escalator ever!

Victor got a little funny as the night went on. He kept telling us stories of how he’s seen many people get shot before, and all the fights he witnesses on the streets.. Really made me (and the guys) weary of the country. Then before we left him, he said that the men in Russia are crazy and how I, specifically, shouldn’t date them. It was an interesting night to say the least.

The metro escalators that go 100 meters down into the ground!

Day 7: Friday

 On Friday, we ate breaky (what Australians and Kiwi’s call breakfast) extremely fast because we felt unnecessarily rushed to head to the Hermitage Museum. It was a long walk over there, and after 10 minutes or so, Vince joked that we had already walked twice the length of Helsinki.

When we arrived at the museum, we had to do coat check which was the biggest hassle ever. No person behind the various counters were taking our jackets for whatever reason, and the ladies would just yell at us in Russian. So frustrating, but eventually we found a nice woman who took our coats.

The first thing our tour guide did was warn us that “back pockets are the public pocket”, because pick pocketing in Russia is far too common. The museum, and particularly the church, has unreal amounts of gold leaf everywhere. The place was really beautiful but far too large. You’d have to spend days there to really see it all.

 

Outside the Hermitage museum.
An area inside the Hermitage.

Our group was starving and tired so when the tour ended we searched for a place to eat. The first open and relatively inexpensive place was an Irish restaurant, but luckily we were all able to get Russian cuisine because they provided it along with Irish dishes. I got salmon cutlet which was so delicious – my meal probably was the best out of everyone’s and it was the cheapest somehow. The guy when we paid even gave me and the girls a discount (not the guys for some reason, strange I know).

After that, we set out for coffee, and the only place we found that was crazy expensive was McDonalds! But hey, it was about a buck for a big Americano, so worth it. We were still amazed at how expensive everything seemed to be—we thought it was be beyond cheap in Saint Petersburg.

Later, we went to the top of Saint Isaac’s church, which only cost 150 rubbles or about $3. It was so cool to see the city, despite the chilly wind blasting us. I stood there, alone, just amazed at the city and myself. In other words, I found the city to be so vast that it felt crazy. Then that got me thinking about how I couldn’t believe I was there getting to experience it. So far, all my travels have been to places I never thought I’d see, especially including Russia. I was just grateful to myself for pushing my comfort zone and experiencing parts of Europe that most Americans usually don’t get to travel to/ have no desire to travel to.

The view from the top of Saint Isaac’s Church.

When we left the church, Cami and Bianca wanted to go shopping (something I never have the desire to do), and some of the other guys just wanted to go back to the hostel to nap. I was frustrated because we only had so much time there, so I wanted to keep exploring with or without them (except that I was rather timid of traveling alone in Russia). Luckily Vince opted to stay with me, so once we helped the others find the metro, we split off to go explore.

Again, I really loved spending time with Vince, this time included. As we walked around Saint Petersburg, we discussed how we see ourselves within our generations (I consider myself a millennial, while he believes he belongs to generation X), our parents, taking a gap year, you name it. Eventually we came upon the Grønland of Russia—a really cool outdoor and indoor market with lots of clothing located outside and free food and meats inside. (Grønland is the cheap market in Oslo where we all go food shopping even though it takes over a half hour to get there.)

The entrance to the market Vince and I found.

After leaving the market, we ventured back outside just to walk. While we were on top of Saint Isaacs church, we saw this beautiful blue church in the distance and Vince and I wanted to go see it but figured it was too far a distance to walk to. Well, low and behold, we somehow found it on our walk! It was bigger than I even realized and very beautiful. A statue made of cannons was outside which was interesting. I wish I knew Russian to read what it said. We checked the door to see if we could go in and it turned out that a service was going on. It was Russian orthodox, I’m pretty sure. The inside was spectacular and about a hundred people were standing in the middle facing a few men performing the service. In the back was a small choir singing peaceful church tunes. Every 15-30 seconds everyone was make the sign of the cross and then bow, some just partially and others all the way to touching their toes. It was so unique and fascinating to watch. Vince had never even been in a service before, no matter the denomination. Now we can both say we’ve attended a Russian orthodox one!

 

The ‘blue church’ with the unique statue in front.

We realized when we took the metro back that we were at the station that just had the terrorist attack about a week earlier. There were still a lot of flowers outside and a ton of scary policemen with unfriendly dogs standing around the main entrance hall. Felt weird to have just been in Stockholm at the place where their terrorist attack happened and then also in Russia where a separate one had just occurred. I can’t really put to words how it felt, but I guess rather surreal is the best way I can explain it.

When we finally got back to the hostel, Vince and I made dinner together and shared our meal with three other people (Dutch, Swiss, and French). They were working on trying to finish the biggest pot of pasta I’ve ever seen for 3 people. Luckily for us, they couldn’t and asked Vince and I to help them eat the food. Ironically, the guy from the Netherlands told us through laughter that he witnessed our friend Sam blow drying his hair in the bathroom for the longest time ever. Except, he didn’t know it was Sam, so as he was telling the story, I realized it must have been Sam because, well, his hair is probably his most prized possession. We all laughed for a while at Sam’s expense.

Speaking of Sam’s hair, he ended up doing all the boys hair that night before we went out. Needless to say, they looked quite snazzy. Our plan was to go to a bar crawl that Sam heard was going on earlier that day. We told everyone else about it, so when it came time to meeting in the hostel lobby, fifteen people from our group was there but no official bar crawl was happening. Sam must have heard wrong. However, since we were all there, people decided lets do our own. I naturally went to my phone and started looking up pubs near us, which somehow indicated to the group that I was now the leader of this shindig. I certainly wasn’t comfortable with it but I tried to do my best anyways because everyone was set on me running this event. They started calling it “Shayna’s famous pub crawl”, while Cami joked that we should have charged them for attendance. It actuality, I got everyone lost a little but it still turned out fun. I was the only American, so people kept joking how they happened to put the American in charge. My friend group ended up just sticking together and talking the whole night, which was just the best. I couldn’t believe how dispite there being so many other people with us, we enjoyed each other’s company so much that we stuck together. I really loved it. It was a very good day that ended in lots of friendship and laughter.

 

Nick (left) and Vince (right). Clearly loving their hair by Sammy K, and each other’s company.

Day 8

We woke up at 8:15am (kill me) with the intent to try to figure out how to get to Catherine’s Palace on our own for the day. According to google maps, it was a two hour trip by public transportation, which meant there was a lot of room for error that could result in us getting utterly lost.

Despite that fear, we departed by 9:45am first by taking the metro and then luckily finding the perfect bus to take us directly to the Palace that is outside the city. It was all much easier than we ever thought it would be. The public bus system (transit system in general) is really interesting and surprisingly easy to use. The busses, to be more specific, are all very archaic and small but come super often. You pay only 40 rubles and all in cash or coins. The driver will even deliver you your change as he drives. I noticed people going up and just asking the driver to stop random places even. Plus, people on the sidewalk could wave down the driver and he would stop. Maybe I’m weird because I am oddly fascinated by cities various public transit systems, but I think anyone could appreciate the unique Russian busses that we took.

This is the inside of the public bus we took to Catherine’s Palace. I was sitting at the very back, so you can see how small it was.

It only took an hour to get there (silly Google maps!) and immediately we were so glad we didn’t let the fear of getting lost stop us from coming. The palace looks absolutely unreal, and before entering we sat outside listening to a guy play the flute while we ate our lunch.

The crew eating lunch outside Catherine’s Palace.

The palace was so lavish, with gold everywhere and all the ceilings painted intricately. This is hard to describe, but it was cool how the paintings on the outside were an extension of the building and then it opened up to scenes depicted in the heavens. Vince and I stuck together for a while because we lost the rest of the crew but soon we all found one another and toured through the place.

Outside the Palace is just as amazing, in a way. It felt like Christmas of sorts walking through the gardens while it was snowing. Only after a minor snow ball fight did we then proceed with the rest of our day. While on the long bus ride back, I started thinking about what it’ll be like to go home. Even just the thought made me anxious and really sad. I was so happy here with everyone and everything, I didn’t want to leave and I especially didn’t want to stop seeing my friends there everyday. I was already getting upset about how near the end is. But that is so characteristically me; I always get upset when anything ends and things have to change. I tried to remind myself everything would be ok and just to live in the moment, which to be honest, is beyond difficult.

Here you can vaguely see what I tried to describe – the outside of the painting in an extension of the building opening up to the heavens.
The crew walking through the gardens.

Back in Saint Petersburg, Cami wanted tea so we stopped at a place called Oh!MyTea, a small joint with one other person in it. The guys became attached to their phones (free wifi and all) while Cami and I talked with the girl working for 15 minutes. She spoke fairly good English and she was so awesome! She said that Saint Petersburg is an exception to the rest of Russia because it’s so European. She comes from a small town 5 hours away by train but soon she is leaving to a different town on the border of Russia, China and Europe. She told us how she studied philosophy and Italian culture in college. We asked how she learned English and she brought up how she watches the show, Game of Thrones. Me and Vince just started watching it with the rest of the guys this semester (we were on season 5 at the time we were in Russia) so I yelled to the guys how she watches it too, and immediately they joined the conversation and we geeked about the show together. She almost spoiled something about John Snow for Vince and I but luckily Sam stopped her. It was a cute addition to our day, I really do think many of the people in the city are quite kind and lovely to chat with.

One of the most astonishing places we went to was the Church of the Savior on Blood, otherwise known as the Church of Spilled Blood. It was entirely decorated in mosaic—so hard to believe! I stood there in awe of the building for ages.

The outside of the Church of Spilled Blood.
The inside of the Church – everything is mosaic.

The rest of the day was spent eating dinner and going out. The following day which was Easter meant everything was closed in the city for the most part. We traveled a lot on another boat to Tallinn the next day which is beautiful (I wanted to move there for the summer, I loved it so much).

Please note, the rest of day 9 and 10 I didn’t take notes on (I usually do and that’s how I am able to remember the small details of my travels for these blogs). Hence, I am just going to skip to my last reflections while I was heading back to Oslo and just note that there is a significant gap in my recollection of events during this time period.

Day 10: The end of Spring Break

 While sitting on the train from Stockholm back to Oslo, I began to feel this hint of melancholy nostalgia for not only my spring break trip coming to an end, but for my entire semester thus far. Everything seemed to be moving so much faster than I anticipated and I felt as though I couldn’t catch my breath. Don’t be mistaken, in many ways that is a good reaction because it is indicative of an amazing experience, with incredible friends and memories. But at the same time, to be honest, I was terrified of it finally ending. The end always seemed so far away, just like how my spring break–which I planned with most of the people on this trip way back in Poland–always seemed far in the distance. But yet there I was, closing in on my last hour on the train back to Oslo–the place I now call home. I understand that before I know it, I will be on a plane back home, just an hour away from touching down in Denver.

It’s funny, Cami showed us last night a video of Zach and I back in Poland in January. We were sitting at the dinner table of the sushi place we went to on our first night. Our waiter was showing us on a map where the cool bars and clubs were. Nick, Cami, and Sam talked and laughed about how young Zach and I look. I concur, I actually looked like a different person even though that was just a few months ago. Cami said we all have changed so much since then, which I guess I hadn’t realized as of yet. Nonetheless, she is right. We have all changed so much in such a short period of time, and soon we would be forced to leave one another and nothing will be the same.

These last 10 days were phenomenal. I truly loved our group. Although we are all quite different, we meshed together almost seamlessly which allowed us to spend so much alone time with one another with zero clashes. Hell, one night all five of us slept in a room the size of a handicap bathroom stall–talk about being close with people!

It is worth noting as well that it was also a unique experience for me to be the only American while traveling on this trip. I learned so much from other cultures, specifically those in which my friends derive from, and I recognize I have so much more to learn.

Although I just discussed how particularly sad I seem to be, I also just want to highlight that I always get sad at anything ending. I’m an “easily pleased” person as my friends describe me, and thus, I am constantly sad when various amazing events in my life come to a close, this trip specifically. I guess I want to close this blog post with a moment of gratefulness for the various events that occurred during my travels.

I am grateful for Nick, who handled being alone with me like a champ. I am grateful for bread, peanut butter and salami, which got me through so many meals those 10 days. I am grateful for the alone time I received in Djur garden. I am grateful for the curry I shared with Vince and Nick because sharing is certainly not my forte. I am grateful for exploring the rest of Stockholm alone with Vince, only to happily run into the entire crew on the way to the boat. I am grateful for shared meals on the floor of various cabin rooms while aboard ferries. I am grateful for duty free vodka and fun nights of dancing, laughing, and bonding. I am grateful for the hours dedicated to playing the card game presidents/scum, as people call the game either name (we combined the names and denoted it as P.S. from now on). I am grateful for Russia not giving us any troubles and only good memories. I am grateful that our group always stuck together and had such an amazing time talking and got to know each other better and better. I am grateful for Russia’s metro system, and how easy the buses are to take. I am grateful for Vince exploring Saint Petersburg with me and happening across the blue church we were both so keen on finding. I am grateful for both the snow and sunshine that we received while traveling. I am grateful for the beautiful day we received in Estonia. I am grateful for being able to return to Stockholm’s national library before we came back to Oslo. I am just grateful.

Peace Spring Break, and thanks for everything ✌️ Peace Spring Break, and thanks for everything.

The crew in Tallinn, Estonia.
Love these people.
Flyin Solo – Copenhagen

Flyin Solo – Copenhagen

My one and only truly solo trip I took this semester was to Denmark. I realized I had been to every Scandinavian capital except Copenhagen, plus I had wanted to travel alone at some point, so it felt fitting for my last trip of the semester to be there. Here is my experience down in words….

Day 1

Despite being enthusiastic for my final trip, especially since I was traveling alone, I got rather sentimental at the airport. I started thinking about how much time I’ve spent in this airport these past 6 months and how that airport and Denver’s are my favorite airports. I laughed when I reminisced about my first trip I took there to Krákow. My friends and I were so newly aquatinted with the country and traveling. We got lost, over packed, you name it. Now I feel like a pro or something because I’ve done so much traveling this semester. Except my expert bubble popped when I still managed to try to board the wrong flight. That was the second time that happened but in my defense the flight I tried to board was also to Copenhagen but only 20 minutes earlier than my actual flight—an easy mistake really. When I finally boarded the correct flight, I was in the front row, feeling like a boss. I looked out the window and thought how beautiful Norway is in the summer now that everything is green. “My Frosted City” to which I named because it always looked like it was frosted with snow now more closely resembled “My Green City”.

When I landed, I was happily surprised at how easy it was to figure out where the metro was to get to my hostel. The airport looks eerily similar to the Oslo one, and the public transit systems could be sisters. Although, the amount of people and how they act is very different. The train was packed full of people by the time I got off, and the city as a whole was bumping for a Wednesday afternoon. Juxtaposed to that, Oslo seems quite desolate, although I like that the city is smaller and not crowed. Copenhagen with the crowds and the fact that I was alone for the first time made me feel extremely anxious and I couldn’t shake it.

After I checked in, I immediately left to go grab food. I was so hungry that I bought the first sandwich that sounded good at this cool market outside my hostel. I saw in the distance what looked like a park so I figured I would go there to eat it. I was happy to find that it was a lake with a nice walking path around the perimeter. It seemed like the only place in the city that wasn’t packed and I was beyond grateful to take this opportunity to calm down and acquaint myself with my environment.

The park right near my hostel where I spent my first day at, as well as ate at least one meal a day at the entire time I was in the city. Very lovely.

I guess it just felt strange to be alone suddenly. The past week I literally spent every single moment with my friends (or studying) because seeing that we were leaving soon, we were trying to pack in as much time together as we could. Thus, transitioning from that to complete solitude in an unfamiliar city really threw me off. Not to say that I wasn’t happy to be in Copenhagen, or that I can’t spend time alone in general, but it was just a surprisingly hard transition that I wasn’t prepared for mentally.

With no plans of what to do (again logistics are not a strength of mine), I just kept walking anywhere that looked appealing. Turned out that I happened to arrive on a day when this massive EDM festival was going on. It’s the biggest street party in all of Denmark, called Distortion. It used to be all over the country but the smaller areas got sick of it and moved in all into Copenhagen. The party was going on the entire week and would move each day to a new section. Streets were closed to cars and instead filled with what seemed like every 20-something-year-old Danish person intoxicatingly vibe’n to the beat of the music. Every 10 meters there was another stage and at some points the crowd was so packed it was hard to move. When one stages’ music would fade, another would come into focus. It was THE place to be for everyone my age it seemed! Given that I was alone, I mostly just walked through and took it all in, wishing that the guys were here with me because together we’d have a blast.

As I was getting tired of being surrounded by drunk people with loud house music all around me, I set off to escape the festival and continue seeing the city. It was an interesting first day, and I was keen to see what the next day had in store.

Distortion, the largest street party in all of Denmark, was absolutely crazy. At one point, I come across this man just carrying around a plastic leg!

Day 2

I woke up around 9:30 and to my surprise all the people in my room were already out. I got ready and set out for a quick breakfast at the market near my hostel. I wanted to make the 11am free walking tour in the city so I didn’t have all that much time. The cafe I went to took forever, so I had to scarf down my food before speed walking to the meeting spot at Town Hall.

When I arrived, there were a ton of people–probably the biggest walking tour I’ve ever seen. Before it began I heard two guys next to me had an American accent so I asked them where they were from. Their names were David and Tommy, two college students from New York who go to school in Buffalo. I found that intriguing because that’s where my mom was from. As the tour went on, we hung out the entire time and got to know each other as we walked from each destination. I learned a lot on the tour as I always do (the free walking tours in every city are amazing, I highly encourage doing them on the first day of any trip to gain your bearings in the city, both geographically and historically). For example, the crown prince and his family took in an exchange student this semester! How cool right? I should have applied on exchange here!

The famous Navn street in all its glory.

When the tour ended, the guys and I went together to Christiania, the free town in Copenhagen to explore and more importantly get food. Inside was really fascinating. It had a totally different atmosphere juxtaposed to the rest of the city. While inside, we ran into a group of Finnish men that Tommy had met the night before. They took us to this beach there which we would have never known existed if it weren’t for them. We stayed there for hours and eventually the New York guys got up and asked if I wanted to leave with them. Since I knew them a little better, I went with. We walked back to the city center and got another hot dog to eat–the hot dogs there are amazing, be sure to order them with everything on them. Unfortunately, I was so hungry I didn’t even think to take a picture. So sad… After we ate is when we split our ways and I went back to my hostel to nap for a little.

The entrance to Christiania, the free town. On the flip side it reads, “You are now entering the EU”.
The beach in Christiania where the people I met and I spent a good few hours at.

When I awoke from my nap, a Swedish guy had moved into my room. We talked for a little before I headed out to continue exploring for the night. I ended the night by watching the sunset over the river. When I came back, the Swedish guy and I talked the rest of the night together. He’s 23 and quit school three separate times. He seemed frustrated with himself that he did such a thing. I found him to be quite intelligent, for when he found out I studied math, we talked about our favorite proofs for quite a while. It was a perfect, chill second day in Copenhagen.

 

The beautiful sunset I witnessed along the water.

Day 3

I didn’t need to leave for my flight until 4:30pm in the afternoon, so I set a plan to see the rest of the city that I wanted to hit. I quickly ate breakfast at the hostel with a Brazilian woman whom I met that morning.

Now, my first stop was the botanical gardens followed by the Kings Gardens. It was so beautiful and peaceful inside. I always love seeing the botanical gardens in any city I travel to. Kongens Have, or the Kings Garden was bigger than I was expecting. There were large fields of finely cut grass that people were sun bathing and playing games on. I could totally see myself throwing around a ball, or lying down there for days

The botanical gardens in the city. Very sublime.

Next on my agenda was Kastellet, i.e., the star shaped fortress. I heard from a friend who studied abroad here that it was unlike any fortress any Americans have ever seen, yet I was still astonished. It was basically a gorgeous park with a moat running through the middle. There was even a windmill on the hill at the very center. I sat on a bench in there, just relaxing, watching the occasional runner or biker swing by me. I ended up walking the entire path that surrounded the fortress, both on the lower path, as well as the path on the hill. If you’re a runner, I think this would be a fine spot to take a jog if ever in town.

The statue of the Little Mermaid is just on the perimeter of Kastellet. I’ve heard not to really go there because it wasn’t worth it but I decided that I wanted to see what has been deemed the 2nd most underwhelming tourist attraction in the world. What I found more impressive when I saw it, was the amount of tourists gawking at such a mediocre statue. I stayed for a half a minute before moving on.

One part of the fortress. It was so beautiful it was hard to believe it actually was a fortress.
The windmill that was located on the hill inside the fortress.
Included because I think this statue is cooler than the Little Mermaid…

On my way to the Church of our Savior, I found this interesting Octagon. There was a small door and inside was so unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s an art installation called “Cosmic Space” by an artist from the Faroe Islands. Definitely try to find it if you can. No one really notices it, so I was the only one in there for quite a while. I don’t want to include any photos because it is one of those “be surprised” types of places. Not a huge tourist attraction, but when you happen across it, you’ll be glad you saw it.

Finally I arrived at the church. I first went inside where the organs were playing some rather dark music very loudly. Yet, the inside was remarkable. Probably one of my favorite churches I’ve ever been in. Following a quick stop in there, I headed up to the tower. I’ve heard it was the best view of the city, but I had no idea just what that meant—beyond worth the 35 kroner I spent to get there. First you had to walk up a set of narrow wooden stairs inside the church. A funny, elderly British couple near me were playfully bickering about how difficult it was. Then you come out onto a platform where you can see the whole city. I thought this was the end until I turned the corner and saw a set of oxidized copper stairs spiraling upwards on the outside of the tower. I climbed these, with my legs shaking from my fear of heights, until I reached the very top. Glad I made it before I left, is all I can say.

Overall, it turned into a beautiful trip. I finished it off by eating an early dinner and reading my book by this beautiful lake before heading off to the airport. TY København.

The the best view of the Church, but you can see the twisting stairs at the very top.
A small view of the stairs I climbed on the outside of the church. So high!!

Well this is my last blog I’m going to write. I don’t think I’m mentally prepared enough to write a final, “goodbye” blog so I’ll leave it at this… S/O to all my friends, all my roommates, all my adventures, and especially to all of Norway. You’ll be missed…

May Their Souls Rest in Perfect Peace

May Their Souls Rest in Perfect Peace

Last weekend, I left Accra for the first time in a while to go to Cape Coast, a mid-size city some 150 kilometers west of the capital. Cape Coast is known to many Africans and oburonis alike for its role in the trans-Atlantic slave trade, but aside from that I found it to be a bright, lively town of merchants and fisherfolk happy to see visitors.

On the rocky shore of the ocean is situated a massive castle, covered in white lime to reflect the hot sun, but weathered from years of salty spray. Hawkers, painters, vendors and their booths line the street leading up to the compound’s entrance. Akwaaba resounds from their mouths at the sight of foreigners. A tour of the property was 40 Ghana cedis for a non-Ghanaian student like myself. The price for a Ghana resident was significantly lower – around 15 cedis for an adult pass. Three of my friends and I joined a tour that had just gotten started. The group was 90% white people. It was the most white people I’ve seen here in one place outside of UG’s campus.

Our tour guide was a young man named Frances who studies at the University of Cape Coast, one of Ghana’s most highly ranked universities. We joined him and the group in the castle courtyard facing the ocean, the parapet lined with rusted black cannons and piles of mortar shells. I squinted as the sun bounced off the whitewashed walls and as mist from the waves blew into my eyes.

Courtyard of Cape Coast Castle. 

Frances spoke with an exacted rhythm and tone that told me he’s done this dozens, maybe hundreds of times before. I followed him practically on his heels as he led us through the courtyard and toward a dungeon entrance. He invited us to put our heads into a 3×3 hole in the wall with a crumbled staircase that led to a dark tunnel. It smelled like must and salt and faintly of ghosts.

If you, dear reader, know nothing of the slave castles that are littered across the “Slave Coast” of Africa, I beg that you soon learn.

Established by the British, the Dutch, the Portuguese, the French, these castles served many purposes for the growing imperial economies of the fifteenth through nineteenth centuries. They housed the European merchant leaders and, later, colonial administrators who supervised imports and exports from major towns along the Gulf of Guinea – Abidjan in Cote d’Ivoire; Lome in Togo; Lagos in Nigeria; Takoradi, Accra, and Cape Coast in the Gold Coast. In exchange for the promise of European trade, the land to build these structures was sold by the African leaders whose people had lived there for generations. They were designed as commercial hubs, defensible forts, and corrals for the human livestock around which trade boomed.

Scale model of Cape Coast Castle.

This legacy was in the air that I breathed as I stepped under an arch leading to the female slave dungeons. Like before, I was met with the smell of old dirt, wet rock, and thousands of ghosts spread out across two small chambers. Our wise guide explained how young adult women were kept in these rooms for weeks or months at a time, in total darkness with no air, surrounded by hundreds of their sisters.

Across the castle were the male dungeons, made up of three chambers, deeper underground. Frances bent over and placed his hand against the wall about a foot off the ground where there was a deep stain in the rock. Here, he said, was how deep in shit and vomit hundreds of men had to stand and sleep and eat.

On the south side of the chamber were about a hundred small sculptures of men’s faces carved into stone. Many of them were grimacing, or had their mouths open in shock, or simply looked broken – literally and metaphorically. Frances suddenly asked us to look at the faces. Did they look familiar? Whose faces did we see?

A sculpture similar to those found in the male dungeons.

“You might see my face,” he said, as he looked up from the sculptures directly into my eyes.

Whose ghosts were down there? Was it his family? Was it the father of any of the Black Americans I knew back home? People I graduated high school with? These ghosts came from Ghana, sure, but also from Nigeria, and from Benin, and Burkina Faso – maybe even further inland from Mali, or Sudan, or the Congo.

I blinked tears away as I broke eye contact with Frances and with the hundreds of men who stared at me from the dark floor of the chamber.

Upstairs, we faced a huge wooden door painted black with a plaque above reading “Door of No Return.” It was this door which led to the water, where small boats would shuttle captives out to the ships anchored offshore. Countless bodies passed through this door, never to step foot on their mother soil again. Of the twenty million who were led through this door and doors like it across the Slave Coast, only fifteen million survived to see the New World where they would be enslaved (N.B. below).

Five million ghosts, not counting those who died on the march from the inland to the coast, those who died in these dungeons, or those who died on plantations in the Americas. Five million dead not counting their descendants who didn’t survive convict leasing in the coal mines, or the Jim Crow South, or the prison-industrial system of today.

I felt all these souls as I left the castle. My skin, white as the walls that were beaten by the waves, crawled.

View of the coast and the Gulf of Guinea from the Door of No Return.

Examining my position as an American who has inadvertently benefited from the stolen labor of these bodies, I am humbled, humiliated, and somber. I am privileged enough to know where my ancestors came from. I know the names given to them at birth by their people. My ancestors were not doomed to a fate such as this – snatched from their homes, forced to walk hundreds of kilometers to be shipped thousands more kilometers across the sea, and given names foreign to their tongues. Of all the benefits I reap from the color of my skin, this is perhaps the most heart-wrenching. To my Black American sisters and brothers back home, I weep with you at the number of souls lost to the slave trade.

But more importantly, I will fight with you to get back what was stolen, to hold accountable those who devalue your lives and your labor to this day. Africans and oburonis alike – we, the living – vow to uphold this.

The exterior of the Door of No Return, relabeled the Door of Return for those of the African Diaspora who return through the archway.

N.B. There is much disagreement on the exact number of people captured from Africa and brought to the Americas, due to inadequate primary materials from the slave traders. Twenty million captives is generally the lowest estimate. Most agree, however, that of the millions who embarked on the Middle Passage, anywhere from 10-20% of them died on the journey. For more information on the particular controversies surrounding the historiography of the trans-Atlantic slave trade, see Walter Rodney, How Europe Underdeveloped Africa (Panaf Publishing: Abuja) 2009 ed., especially pp. 108-120.

For further reading on the African Diaspora, especially from a Ghanaian-“American” perspective, I highly recommend Yaa Gyasi’s debut novel Homegoing (Knopf: New York, 2016).

Additionally, the literature of Ta Nehesi-Coates and James Baldwin provide insights on the contemporary experiences of Black men in America as they have been shaped by America’s legacy of institutionalized racism.

Being Home is Weird. (my last China study abroad blog post)

Being Home is Weird. (my last China study abroad blog post)

Hello again! Welcome back to, unfortunately, my last blog post. I wanted to get this up sooner but was running into technical difficulties getting it up…

Throughout this post, you will find some pictures I took while in China. They have no correlation to what I am talking about (lol) I just want to share them!

Jing’an District, Shanghai, China: My friends and I on the way to a jazz performance.

From my previous post, you all know that there is a virus that is spreading around the country and is reaching other parts of the world. It, unfortunately, couldn’t get contained as fast as most had hoped. Because of that reason, my study abroad program has been canceled.

When we all first got the news that we had to book our flights out of China ASAP, the day was full of panic, sadness, and rapid-email-sending. Honestly, the top five worst news I’ve ever received. I would have never expected my study abroad experience to be cut so short, nor would I have ever expected to be evacuated out of a whole country!! I feel like I am living in a movie, and part of me still doesn’t want to believe I will not be going back anytime soon.

The Big Lawn, Shanghai University Yanchang Campus: My friend studying Chinese outside because the sun was out for a little.

In a way, I am grieving. And although I don’t like sounding dramatic, I’d much rather be honest about how I feel. There were more things I didn’t do than I did. There were so many relationships with people I was so excited to see develop, but now we are all separated. I was so excited to improve my mandarin skills, but now I have lost the opportunity of immersion. I am hurting for all of the families in Wuhan and the Hubei province that has been affected by the virus, have lost a family member, and that cannot get access to decent health care. I am sad for all of China that they are unable to celebrate the Spring Festival and welcome in the new year with joy and celebration, but instead with isolation and sadness.

Gonghexin Rd: Usually a bustling street filled with traffic, people, and electric scooters; practically empty due to people going home for the New Year and staying inside because of the virus outbreak.

I am home now, but the transition back has not been easy. I have been extremely jetlagged and emotionally drained. It has been incredibly hard for me to sleep. I feel like I should not be home; something about it feels wrong. When things end, I think that most people need some level of closure in order to feel accomplished or a sense of completion. I did not receive this closure, so, I am currently feeling dissatisfied. Also, I am nearing the end of my self-quarantine – so, I have been incredibly bored, hahaha! Embodying the true Jesuit spirit, however, this time inside has given me much time to think and reflect on all that has happened.

I am beyond grateful for the time I did get to spend there. I have fully fallen in love with the country and its people. The friends I made, the experiences I did get to have, and everything else will stay with me forever. All the things I did not get to do just give me a reason to go back (which I am 100% planning on doing)!

Xitang, Zhejiang, China: Group photo at the water village!

Life is not going how I expected. At. All. But I will not let this slow me down! With this new free time, I have much more possibilities for self-growth. I have some plans and hopes for the next few months that I think will keep me sane. I hope to continue learning the Chinese language here in Seattle because that is a skill I refuse to lose. I am going to travel to a few places around the world because if I have the time to do so, why not? I am going to start working again which will help relieve some financial burden off of my family who has already done more than enough for me since I have been home. I also love working so that will be good for my mental health. Also, with this semester being canceled it pushes me back academically, but the mantra that has helped keep me sane is that things happen for a reason.

Shanghai Pudong Airport: Not the greatest quality picture, but this is the last picture I took in China – a beautiful sunrise from the airport window.

I appreciate you all for reading my blog, and this post especially. I really wish I could keep writing about more crazy adventures I would be having (maybe I’ll start my own blog?)!! For me, this is just the beginning of more adventures to come.

 To close this post, linked below is a short video I made about my time in China before the virus outbreak. I was not going to share this, but I thought you would all enjoy it!

Until next time!