I'm terrified of planes again. Maybe that's an overstatement but I had an awful turbalnce filled flight from Ghana to Atlanta. The flight was so rediculously bumpy I wasn't too sure we'd make it over the atlantic. I watched 3 movies, 2 television shows and about an hour and a half of the little graphic of the plane making it's way through the map. I slept about 15 minutes in all on the 12 hour flight. When I set foot on American soil it's all worth it. Texted a bunch of friends and family and made me way through customs again. Barely enough time I thought to make my flight, but ended up with about a half hour to spare. Ran into Lorrianne for like the 3rd time on my trip, Kate's friend she met on her solo trip to the Green Turtle lodge. She had the exact same trip as me and is a master's student at American University. Very down to earth and we would have likely been friends in Ghana but not for the fact I met her on my last night. We laughed about the fact that the sheer amount of white people in one place was overwhelming. Went to the bathroom and I'm amazed by the cleanliness of the Urnials. Connecting flight to DC is much more smooth but at this point my head is pounding from sleep deprivation. Terri jumps on my back in DCA and I'm startled but pleasantly surprised to say the least. We catch our metro which is way too fast for comfort after ten weeks of rumbling bumbling stumbling over bush roads. First meal in the States is a Panerea sandwich that I create. “Uh can you just give me the tomato mozzarella salad”... 'Sure sir” … “but put it on a baguette!” – Yeah this is America, I can ask for something ridiculous like that and it won't delay the order by 45 minutes. We drive to the hotel and I take the first hot shower i've had in 2 and a half months. It's really nice to towel off and not see all of the dirt you've left behind. Terri loves the dress I brought her from Ghana and it fits perfectly. Great job Rashida. She made it just based on her rough measurements and a picture.
That night we have some really good mexican food. My average cheese consumption for the summer doubles.
Sunday morning I wake up at 545...absolutley starving. I fret about not having American money for a while to use the vending machine , but then I remember that American hotels typically have restaurants that you can use your credit card. “Hours: 6:30am – 11pm”. No matter, I distract myself with Sportscenter. Tiger's still messing up. Damn, Tiger. 6:30 rolls around pretty quick and I dart down the 8 floors in my socks. “Breakfast Buffet: $9.95” ...how many cedi is that? oh well I can splurge. “excuse me sir, you can't eat hear without shoes” WTF? Take the elevator back upstairs, grab my shoes and i'm back as quickly as I left. I get pretty much every breakfast item i've been missing this summer all at once. Melon, orange, juice, mint tea, french toast, home fries, scrambled eggs with cheese, yougurt, cereal milk ...just a whole bunch of stuff. I fully intend on gyming an hour later, but my headaches return.
Terri picks me up after church and takes me out for sushi. I see about 14 white people sitting in the far corner of the restaurant and I think “look at these obrunis” with disdain. I actually forget i'm not in Ghana for that second. Sweet Potato Tempura sushi is the best Japanese inspired creation i've ever had. I don't care if doreen would call it blasphemy to Japanese cuisine, it's freaking delicious.
That afternoon my fever and headache are out of control. All of the times Andrea yelled at me for missing my malaria pills were running through my mind. I hadn't really missed it that much had I? … Jackye got malaria and she was probably a lot more diligent than I was about taking them. I took a nap in Terri's guest room and woke up in a cold sweat but a scorching body. Paged the Georgetown doctor on call and prepared myself for days of blood tests. A half an hour, by the time the doctor called me back, we both decided that I didn't have to check into the emergency room, but I promised to do so if my fever hit 103. Terri's mother, a nurse, put some eculyptus spray on my neck...not a western remedy but an old Filipino trick for headaches.
I woke up the next day, oddly healthy. Hugged Terri's family goodbye...that is everyone except for Terri's dad who I embarrassingly accidentally gave a Ghanaian snap handshake too (look it up) and caught a bus home. Just as I suspected the 4 hour bus ride to NY seemed to be the fastest of my life, after my Ghana commutes. Helped my mom and dad make my favorite dinner (eggplant parm) and passed out at 7pm. At some point I had another sleep paryasis episode. The last one I had was in my room in DC. I laid there in the bed but the room was in fire. Robbie was trying to get me to wake up to leave the room, but I still couldn't move. I called out to robbie to help me but nothing was coming out. Then I had an overwhelming feeling as if something was trying to possess me and finally I was able to move.
This time I was more “asleep” but close to the same story. I dreamt I was in a bar and Ghana and I was going to to pay the bill but I tripped and fell. A peer around the bar revealed there was one around and I Couldn't move. Then I “woke up” from that dream and I was lying on a couch in my parents apt, but I still couldn't move. After what seemed like a few minutes, but probably more likely a few seconds I struggled to call out for help until I got the same body possessing feeling and gained control of my movements again. I hope this doesn't become a reoccurring thing. Robbie's good friend Alex has this happen to him quite often but it's only the 3rd or 4th time I can remember it happening to me.
Tuesday I see my best friend from Tufts, Andrew. He moved to brooklyn with his brother, his cousin and two of his brother's friends from Weslyan. He lives in an awesome neighborhood – tons of bodegas but just a couple blocks from some really good restaurants. I gave him some legal advice on this place just before I left so I'm happy it all worked out. His uncle helped the 5 of them “build some rooms” so they turned some pretty open space into 5 bedrooms and a recording studio. They also have a terrace where they are growing herbs and veggies .
I bring Andrew back to Hoboken and we meet up with Rachel, Paras, and Jake for Pizza and Beer. It was great to see friends from so many different parts of my life (High School, Undergrad and Law School) in my home town. Growing up in Hoboken really has its perks.
So far its been really great to be back. I remember when I returned from France I missed it immediately but not necessarily so with Ghana. I have been listening to the music and sharing stories but I've yet to feel a yearning to be back in Accra. I have noticed that people are ALOT less friendly in the US than Ghana, though...guess it's partly my fault. I heard a very popular Ghanian Hi-life song on the radio on Thursday in my house and forgot how out of place it really was.
Currently on a bus from NY to DC so this blog has come to an end. It's been real, thanks for reading. Tune into my old/new blog “ying yang cafe” where I plan on making vegetarian versions of old comfort food favorites from around the globe. I started the concept Senior year at Tufts but never had the discipline to write even a single post, hopefully i'll do better this time... Oh and check back for the link to the several Google Picassa web alubms I'll post with pictures from Ghana.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Last Week in Ghana August 1-August 6th
Closed another chapter of my life this week. Or at least attached a “to be continued” to the end of it. My experience in Ghana is for the most part indescribable, save for the notes I jot down haphazardly on this blog. I felt almost as I had left by Monday. Which is a strange but I suppose familiar feeling when you're looking forward to moving on. My boss, understandably so, took full advantage of the Judicial Vacation, unfortunately leaving me with little more to do than wait for Client correspondence and continue my apt search in DC (rob and I got a place btw!) Shara's parents are in town so they joined us for a dinner of Banku and stew. They actually freakin' loved it but they didn't have to eat the cassava/corn dough mound (or any other Ghanian Starch) accompanied by oily soup most days of the week for ten straight weeks. The Venezia-Walersteins are the typical friendly family that loves to tell stories embarrassing stories about their children. Shara's “sheepy” story (where she gave a child hood security blanket a birthday and handed out invitations to her other toys) rivals my dad's Oreo story which he will tell you within 5 minutes of meeting you.
Tuesday my boss came in looking much more refreshed than time logically allowed. A fresh haircut and bright orange polo replaced his salt and pepper curls and conservative suits. He was still all businesss (by Ghanian standards)....or business enough to start me on a HUGE file that took me my two remaining days to read and give my first impressions(including a 10 hour shift on Wednesday). He offered me the opportunity to continue to contribute to three of the major files I worked on this summer into the mid-fall. I'll prob take him up on it to build my resume aside from the fact that I've taken an interest in my clients.
Tuesday evening Andrea and I are awkwardly invited to Doreen's date with this Japanese guy named Koto, someone we met the weekend before vacationing in Ada Foah. We corralled Sebastian and Pedro to complete the party and Koto didn't seem to mind at all. He's been splitting his time between Ghana, Japan, and Sweden, and actually bought the bar he invited us to for dinner. Veggie Thai Curry and really good (looking) kabobs were on the menu and the 5 guests provided some wine. Seems like an awesome guy, some one especially good for Doreen to meet at this stage in her life in Ghana – all of her foreign friends are going back to their respective countries and bam she meets someone who shares her first language.
Wednesday was technically my last day at the office. As much as Ghanians love to talk, that fact somehow hadn't made its way through my small firm until 5 separate people asked me when my last day was to which I half excitedly replied “today”. A low key departure wasn't acceptable to my boss though, (who only arrived a couple hours before I was ready to pack it in for the summer) so I was invited for a departure lunch on Friday. For some reason , and it wasn't the prospect of another greasy lunch, I welcomed the invitation with more open arms than I could imagine at the start of the week. Everyone at the firm was incredibly nice to me (from the drivers to the senior most partner) imparting any wisdom they could share yet not to humble to accept advice from my highly modest legal career.
Wednesday evening Shara's took us out to Momma Mia, a pizza/pasta restaurant me, Drey and Shara walked out of for being “too expensive” and “too obruni” (the only locals there this time around was our friend Kwame that we invited and the wait staff). In reality it isn't too expensive my american standards , but as My friend Tai told me at the beginning of the summer you really do a switch in your brain, especially if you're tying to be authentic. Perhaps it was the beckoning of home creeping its way into my appetite because I sure wasn't complaining when we were invited. Most cheese I had all summer, combined, haha. We obliged Shara's request to go to the wednesday night Regae party at labadi beach (which was just a chill beach the night before) despite the fact that Andrea and I hate it for its sketchiness. I can't remember if I mentioned it earlier this summer but one waiter tried to blatantly charge us 4 times our bill (from 16 to 65) obviously because we were forigners. But it was her last night so whatever. Ended up leaving early and while we did an old man threatened us with a wooden stick. On the look out the entire night for sketch balls I wasn't phased at all but Shara and Sebastian's poor night vision lead them to believe it was a machate and they bolted for a cab back to Shara's parent's hotel (Even though sebastian intended and eventually end up taking the same cab to our place!). All that is a round a bout way of saying that if you go to Accra, just avoid Labadi Beach Hotel Reggae Nights...they're just not fun, the bands suck and you'll be harassed by either waiters trying to rip you off or hawkers trying to sell you useless stuff.
Thursday I saw Shara off in her cab, the first of grandma's house to leave Ghana for good. That was the beginning of the end of summer as we all knew it for the past 10 weeks. Pretty soon we'd be preparing for interviews, school work and other superficial pressures of being an American law student. But it's clear that we do so with a new perspective on what's important in live, and a new found appreciation of the comforts taken for granted in the US.
Went for my last run,( but for the first time with the full force of the African Sun since my first failed attempt...made it 95% of the way before walking the last two minutes) showered and bought some sovuiners at the art center. fThe Art Center, or the National Center for Culture as the sign reads, consists of a bunch of booths lined together in a disorganized mess, with different families selling wood carvings, jewelery, paintings and whatever else can be handmade. There are some really beautiful things but it's a hassle to go there because everyone tries to “obruni price” you. One guy tried to charge me 4 times the price for one item, but when I told him “come on Brutha i've been here for 10 weeks already” he said “ok, I won't waste your time” and gave me close to the price wanted before I was able to get him to shave a couple of more cedi off of the obvious exaggeration.
Met Andrea and Pedro at Duncan's bar for the last time...and my last experience with the popular but Nothing-I'd-drink-if-I-had-better-alternatives libation known as “Gin-Lime” which is two shots of something called gin but nothing like what we have in the US and one shot of lime cordial. To be sure it was my last experience I had about one too many on an empty stomach and my body was soon rejecting it while Pedro waited for our fried rice at “Annie's fast food”. While I puked in the bushes, Doreen just arrived and she walked me back over to meet Kate (who got me a bottle of water) Chris, and Christiana. Not my best performance in Ghana. I ate my rice, laid my head on the table and about an hour later I awoke like nothing ever happened at all.
Friday came and I still couldn't believe I was leaving. Got up early to say “see ya soon” to Andrea, which would be the first of 3 times because neither of us seemed to realize that we'd both be at the house until about 10 pm. Brought Sebastian to get some fabric to make an African wear shirt (which I kind of regretted not doing) and set off to Osu to pay one last visit to my barber. Nathaniel was sad to see me go and gave me his phone number to contact from the States. Was 15 minutes late for lunch, in typical Ghana fashion, but no one held it against me. Emma, Nii, Osofu, Chris, Didi and my boss took me out to Regal Chinese Restaurant. It looked surprisingly like peach farm, my favorite place to go with Tufts friends in Boston Chinatown for big group meals. My colleagues were way to generous and got me a ton of gifts including 3 pairs of cuff links,, a really nice tie, an African print messenger bag and a fugoo, which is a really huge poncho knit thing with African colors. Not sure when I'll get the chance to wear it but I will!
Made a pit stop on the way home to have one last drink with Pedro. Convinced him to make the trip back with me to Grandma's house so we ended up turning into one last dinner. Me, Pedro, Kate, Sebastian and Andrea sat around the table for the last time together as Grandma's grandchildren. It seemed just as natural as our first dinner together, though we had gained Sebastian and Kate and lost Shara and Daan since that day. Grandma made an appearance and we snapped some pictures together. She also gave me an African Print shirt so my regrets about not having one made quickly dissipated. I said my final see ya soons to Sebastian and Andrea just as my friends Evans and Rashida came to take me to the airport. Unfortunately in the rush I forgot to say goodbye to Kate :( .
Airport wasn't that bad, but in typical Ghana fashion it took forever to get through customs. The customs dude confiscated my homemade rum (sorry Rob and Charlene :( ) but whatever, I had to time to worry about that, I was so happy to be going home. I boarded the plane just as I made it past my final security check.
Tuesday my boss came in looking much more refreshed than time logically allowed. A fresh haircut and bright orange polo replaced his salt and pepper curls and conservative suits. He was still all businesss (by Ghanian standards)....or business enough to start me on a HUGE file that took me my two remaining days to read and give my first impressions(including a 10 hour shift on Wednesday). He offered me the opportunity to continue to contribute to three of the major files I worked on this summer into the mid-fall. I'll prob take him up on it to build my resume aside from the fact that I've taken an interest in my clients.
Tuesday evening Andrea and I are awkwardly invited to Doreen's date with this Japanese guy named Koto, someone we met the weekend before vacationing in Ada Foah. We corralled Sebastian and Pedro to complete the party and Koto didn't seem to mind at all. He's been splitting his time between Ghana, Japan, and Sweden, and actually bought the bar he invited us to for dinner. Veggie Thai Curry and really good (looking) kabobs were on the menu and the 5 guests provided some wine. Seems like an awesome guy, some one especially good for Doreen to meet at this stage in her life in Ghana – all of her foreign friends are going back to their respective countries and bam she meets someone who shares her first language.
Wednesday was technically my last day at the office. As much as Ghanians love to talk, that fact somehow hadn't made its way through my small firm until 5 separate people asked me when my last day was to which I half excitedly replied “today”. A low key departure wasn't acceptable to my boss though, (who only arrived a couple hours before I was ready to pack it in for the summer) so I was invited for a departure lunch on Friday. For some reason , and it wasn't the prospect of another greasy lunch, I welcomed the invitation with more open arms than I could imagine at the start of the week. Everyone at the firm was incredibly nice to me (from the drivers to the senior most partner) imparting any wisdom they could share yet not to humble to accept advice from my highly modest legal career.
Wednesday evening Shara's took us out to Momma Mia, a pizza/pasta restaurant me, Drey and Shara walked out of for being “too expensive” and “too obruni” (the only locals there this time around was our friend Kwame that we invited and the wait staff). In reality it isn't too expensive my american standards , but as My friend Tai told me at the beginning of the summer you really do a switch in your brain, especially if you're tying to be authentic. Perhaps it was the beckoning of home creeping its way into my appetite because I sure wasn't complaining when we were invited. Most cheese I had all summer, combined, haha. We obliged Shara's request to go to the wednesday night Regae party at labadi beach (which was just a chill beach the night before) despite the fact that Andrea and I hate it for its sketchiness. I can't remember if I mentioned it earlier this summer but one waiter tried to blatantly charge us 4 times our bill (from 16 to 65) obviously because we were forigners. But it was her last night so whatever. Ended up leaving early and while we did an old man threatened us with a wooden stick. On the look out the entire night for sketch balls I wasn't phased at all but Shara and Sebastian's poor night vision lead them to believe it was a machate and they bolted for a cab back to Shara's parent's hotel (Even though sebastian intended and eventually end up taking the same cab to our place!). All that is a round a bout way of saying that if you go to Accra, just avoid Labadi Beach Hotel Reggae Nights...they're just not fun, the bands suck and you'll be harassed by either waiters trying to rip you off or hawkers trying to sell you useless stuff.
Thursday I saw Shara off in her cab, the first of grandma's house to leave Ghana for good. That was the beginning of the end of summer as we all knew it for the past 10 weeks. Pretty soon we'd be preparing for interviews, school work and other superficial pressures of being an American law student. But it's clear that we do so with a new perspective on what's important in live, and a new found appreciation of the comforts taken for granted in the US.
Went for my last run,( but for the first time with the full force of the African Sun since my first failed attempt...made it 95% of the way before walking the last two minutes) showered and bought some sovuiners at the art center. fThe Art Center, or the National Center for Culture as the sign reads, consists of a bunch of booths lined together in a disorganized mess, with different families selling wood carvings, jewelery, paintings and whatever else can be handmade. There are some really beautiful things but it's a hassle to go there because everyone tries to “obruni price” you. One guy tried to charge me 4 times the price for one item, but when I told him “come on Brutha i've been here for 10 weeks already” he said “ok, I won't waste your time” and gave me close to the price wanted before I was able to get him to shave a couple of more cedi off of the obvious exaggeration.
Met Andrea and Pedro at Duncan's bar for the last time...and my last experience with the popular but Nothing-I'd-drink-if-I-had-better-alternatives libation known as “Gin-Lime” which is two shots of something called gin but nothing like what we have in the US and one shot of lime cordial. To be sure it was my last experience I had about one too many on an empty stomach and my body was soon rejecting it while Pedro waited for our fried rice at “Annie's fast food”. While I puked in the bushes, Doreen just arrived and she walked me back over to meet Kate (who got me a bottle of water) Chris, and Christiana. Not my best performance in Ghana. I ate my rice, laid my head on the table and about an hour later I awoke like nothing ever happened at all.
Friday came and I still couldn't believe I was leaving. Got up early to say “see ya soon” to Andrea, which would be the first of 3 times because neither of us seemed to realize that we'd both be at the house until about 10 pm. Brought Sebastian to get some fabric to make an African wear shirt (which I kind of regretted not doing) and set off to Osu to pay one last visit to my barber. Nathaniel was sad to see me go and gave me his phone number to contact from the States. Was 15 minutes late for lunch, in typical Ghana fashion, but no one held it against me. Emma, Nii, Osofu, Chris, Didi and my boss took me out to Regal Chinese Restaurant. It looked surprisingly like peach farm, my favorite place to go with Tufts friends in Boston Chinatown for big group meals. My colleagues were way to generous and got me a ton of gifts including 3 pairs of cuff links,, a really nice tie, an African print messenger bag and a fugoo, which is a really huge poncho knit thing with African colors. Not sure when I'll get the chance to wear it but I will!
Made a pit stop on the way home to have one last drink with Pedro. Convinced him to make the trip back with me to Grandma's house so we ended up turning into one last dinner. Me, Pedro, Kate, Sebastian and Andrea sat around the table for the last time together as Grandma's grandchildren. It seemed just as natural as our first dinner together, though we had gained Sebastian and Kate and lost Shara and Daan since that day. Grandma made an appearance and we snapped some pictures together. She also gave me an African Print shirt so my regrets about not having one made quickly dissipated. I said my final see ya soons to Sebastian and Andrea just as my friends Evans and Rashida came to take me to the airport. Unfortunately in the rush I forgot to say goodbye to Kate :( .
Airport wasn't that bad, but in typical Ghana fashion it took forever to get through customs. The customs dude confiscated my homemade rum (sorry Rob and Charlene :( ) but whatever, I had to time to worry about that, I was so happy to be going home. I boarded the plane just as I made it past my final security check.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Monday July 26th - Sunday Aug 1st
Africa is catching up to me. All of the 4-5 hour nights of sleep, groggy morning jogs, bone ratteling tro-tros and wicked oily food finally made me sick last week. I was well enough Tuesday night to hang out with the usual gang, plus Sebastian my new roommate and Doreen*, who hangs out with us occasionally. Wednesday morning when I just felt awful. At first I thought I just drank to many Gin-Limes, but as the day wore on I felt that my lymph-nodes were swollen. Left work about an hour early, paid someone at my house 5 Cedi to do my laundry (it was an option I had all summer but it felt kinda like taking the easy way out when I wasn’t sick) and went to bed at like 7pm.
Woke up the next morning feeling decently refreshed and my roommate had a problem. The volunteer organization that arranged his house was trying to screw him over. Basically he paid a certain amount and he was told all along that we would be staying in our place. When he arrives the jerk who arranged for his stay tries to all of a sudden bring him to a new, equally fine place but not as convienient for Sebastian because he knows Shara from college . He sucked it up for a few days but since there was open space in my room he asked if he can change rooms. So for the last 9 days of our trip the guy was going to charge $280. Point of reference, when Pedro was a hold over tenant for an extra week, Grandma charged him $7 a night. Basically the organizer was trying to charge him 4 times that much, despite the fact the he misled him about the place he already paid for. Well, sick or not, I certainly wasn’t standing for that BS. I already had beef with him because I suspected he ripped Andrea off for something else. That and he tells this ridiculous story to new volunteers about how I broke an iron in Grandmas house , in an effort to get a “security deposit” from them. I took Sebastian to grandma’s and explained that her nephew was trying to charge Sebastian $280 dollars for 9 days, and asked her if that was a fair price. Her head nearly dropped to the ground. She said she wouldn’t even charge half of that for a 2 week stay. Funny because the guy said it was Grandma who “wouldn’t budge” on the price given the circumstances. So this fraudster sends when of his “employees” (kid’s name is Evans, actually a cool dude, his boss is just a dick), to pick up Sebastian and bring him to the ATM. But we told him that Sebastian wasn’t going anywhere until the money situation was sorted out. So he asked Sebastian to meet him at a restaurant instead to sort it out and I tagged along to make sure he didn’t try to make up “this is Africa” stories to some how get the money. 2 hours of yelling-exposing his dishonesty-laughing about cultural differences-informing him the contract he made Sebastian sign was unenforceable due to fraud-later we agreed that Sebastian would just pay grandma directly the price that she wanted (which ended up being about $100). During the argument, I also called him on ripping Andrea off and he’s now paying her back and he’s not allowed to have anymore volunteers placed at Andrea’s organization. If anyone you know is trying to come to Ghana, don’t do VoluntermatchGhana. This story will be posted on multiple review sites so anyone even thinking about that organization will want to look else where. He may have started out with good intentions, but clearly he’s getting greedy and trying to shave some extra money to line his own pockets.
After that mess was settled had lunch with Sebastian at this chop bar on my Ave. I haven’t been home for lunch time since like my first weekend so it was cool to check it out. Rice balls in peanut soup and a Fanta orange soda. $1 …combined for the both of us . Ridiculous, and it was pretty good.
Friday, though not feeling 100 percent, I went into work. My boss sent me a get well email the day before and he hoped that I could come to the annual “Judicial Vacation Lunch”. The courts (like all of them) go on vacation from August 1st till the first week of October. It’s actually kind of ridiculous because the most clever legal strategy was delaying trial until as late into July as possible until the Judge gives you an adjourn date for October. It actually worked out well on a big case I was working on because (based on my advice ) my boss had to amend the complaint to put us in better position to win the case. Any way I was told I’d be the “guest of honor” which is pretty humbling since I’m just some American kid who barely finished a year of law school. I think they just wanted to hear my speak (“so they can see if I’m the next Obama” my crazy boss says). We went to this west African buffet which meant salad, rice and plantains for the vegetarian, haha. It was kinda sad saying thank you and preparing to leave my firm, even though I have 3 days to go.
Weekend, me Andrea and Doreen went to Ada. Drey and I had a hard time getting out of Accra because apparently tro tros to Ada double as full on service trucks. We had to wait for several cars before we can force our way onto one because customers were replaced by giant bags of rice, bottles of juice, packages of cookies and who the hell knows what else. Just another ridiculous peccadillo of traveling in Ghana. Ada (or Ada Foah) is pretty nice for the most part. It’s the location where the volta river meets the Atlantic ocean. The river side was beautiful. Giant palm trees, clean sand, neat huts with world flags painted on the doors, hammocks; definitely a nice place to relax after the crazy journey of the week before. However the ocean side still feel victim to the trash of Accra. Ada is two hours away from accra but there were still plastic shopping bags that got caught around Drea’s foot when she tried to go swimming…womp womp. Anyway Doreen joined us on Saturday to spend the night and some other volunteers we know (including our roommate Kate) joined us for the day. The most adventurous thing we did is rent a motor boat to one of the near by islands to visit a rum factory…more like a single still, but none the less it was pretty cool, and the rum was decent. Drey and I bought a 1.5 L bottle for the 3 of us to share (it was Doreen’s b-day). Still not in the mood to drink after last week so I’ll be bringing a half liter home (get excited Rob and Brittany). Kinda fatigued from the sun, playing soccer and my self diagnosed sinus infection (I’ll go to the Doctors when I get back to the States) I just called it an early night. Sounds like a pretty boring weekend but after 9 weeks in Ghana it was intensely relaxing.
With less than a week to go I can only contain my excitement to go home. I’m convince that I’ll experience some “reverse” culture shock, so I’m going to continue my blog at least one week beyond Ghana. Andrea thinks we haven’t been in Ghana long enough to be shocked by our return to the US but even looking at an American dollar (I saw one the other day) looks down right strange to me. I’m sure the little things we’ve grown to take for granted (even just the plain courtesy of saying ‘good morning’ practiced by many more Ghanaians than Americans) will be sorely missed. Well 5 days to a hot shower, non-wicked oily food , and seeing terri for the first time in 2.5 months. 7 Days till saying mom, dad, the kids and my Hoboken friends. I really can’t wait.
Let me take this opportunity, if you've made it down this far, to thank everyone who has joined me on my journey in Ghana, both in real life and through my blog. Thanks Terri for putting up with my "I think I'll go to Africa this summer" spotenuity. Thanks to my parents for not worrying about me too too much. Thanks to all my friends who have commented about my journeys, including Alice Tin and Andrew Rusli who have also written travel blogs this summer with much better writing styles (and if they're nice they'll share their links in a comment)! Thanks to Andrea, Shara, Pedro, Daan, Kate and Sebastian for being the best "Obruni brotahs and sistahs" I could ask for. Those 10 weeks at Grandma's would have been a lot harder without y'all. Thanks to Terry, Cristin, Jackye, Doreen, Julie, Diego, Conrad, multiple Evans, Kwame and Olivia as well for for being great friends during my trip. I hope to stay in touch with you all.
*(Quick side story about Doreen. Born in Ghana and moved to Japan with her parent before her 2nd birthday. Live there for 10 or so years and moved to the US for highschool. Went to Michagan State, taught English in China for a few years but on her 25th birthday (literally) she was told her visa wasn’t getting renewed and she would have to return Ghana – a home that she’s never known. Despite missing Japan like crazy –her parents still live there- she’s holding up decently well.)
Woke up the next morning feeling decently refreshed and my roommate had a problem. The volunteer organization that arranged his house was trying to screw him over. Basically he paid a certain amount and he was told all along that we would be staying in our place. When he arrives the jerk who arranged for his stay tries to all of a sudden bring him to a new, equally fine place but not as convienient for Sebastian because he knows Shara from college . He sucked it up for a few days but since there was open space in my room he asked if he can change rooms. So for the last 9 days of our trip the guy was going to charge $280. Point of reference, when Pedro was a hold over tenant for an extra week, Grandma charged him $7 a night. Basically the organizer was trying to charge him 4 times that much, despite the fact the he misled him about the place he already paid for. Well, sick or not, I certainly wasn’t standing for that BS. I already had beef with him because I suspected he ripped Andrea off for something else. That and he tells this ridiculous story to new volunteers about how I broke an iron in Grandmas house , in an effort to get a “security deposit” from them. I took Sebastian to grandma’s and explained that her nephew was trying to charge Sebastian $280 dollars for 9 days, and asked her if that was a fair price. Her head nearly dropped to the ground. She said she wouldn’t even charge half of that for a 2 week stay. Funny because the guy said it was Grandma who “wouldn’t budge” on the price given the circumstances. So this fraudster sends when of his “employees” (kid’s name is Evans, actually a cool dude, his boss is just a dick), to pick up Sebastian and bring him to the ATM. But we told him that Sebastian wasn’t going anywhere until the money situation was sorted out. So he asked Sebastian to meet him at a restaurant instead to sort it out and I tagged along to make sure he didn’t try to make up “this is Africa” stories to some how get the money. 2 hours of yelling-exposing his dishonesty-laughing about cultural differences-informing him the contract he made Sebastian sign was unenforceable due to fraud-later we agreed that Sebastian would just pay grandma directly the price that she wanted (which ended up being about $100). During the argument, I also called him on ripping Andrea off and he’s now paying her back and he’s not allowed to have anymore volunteers placed at Andrea’s organization. If anyone you know is trying to come to Ghana, don’t do VoluntermatchGhana. This story will be posted on multiple review sites so anyone even thinking about that organization will want to look else where. He may have started out with good intentions, but clearly he’s getting greedy and trying to shave some extra money to line his own pockets.
After that mess was settled had lunch with Sebastian at this chop bar on my Ave. I haven’t been home for lunch time since like my first weekend so it was cool to check it out. Rice balls in peanut soup and a Fanta orange soda. $1 …combined for the both of us . Ridiculous, and it was pretty good.
Friday, though not feeling 100 percent, I went into work. My boss sent me a get well email the day before and he hoped that I could come to the annual “Judicial Vacation Lunch”. The courts (like all of them) go on vacation from August 1st till the first week of October. It’s actually kind of ridiculous because the most clever legal strategy was delaying trial until as late into July as possible until the Judge gives you an adjourn date for October. It actually worked out well on a big case I was working on because (based on my advice ) my boss had to amend the complaint to put us in better position to win the case. Any way I was told I’d be the “guest of honor” which is pretty humbling since I’m just some American kid who barely finished a year of law school. I think they just wanted to hear my speak (“so they can see if I’m the next Obama” my crazy boss says). We went to this west African buffet which meant salad, rice and plantains for the vegetarian, haha. It was kinda sad saying thank you and preparing to leave my firm, even though I have 3 days to go.
Weekend, me Andrea and Doreen went to Ada. Drey and I had a hard time getting out of Accra because apparently tro tros to Ada double as full on service trucks. We had to wait for several cars before we can force our way onto one because customers were replaced by giant bags of rice, bottles of juice, packages of cookies and who the hell knows what else. Just another ridiculous peccadillo of traveling in Ghana. Ada (or Ada Foah) is pretty nice for the most part. It’s the location where the volta river meets the Atlantic ocean. The river side was beautiful. Giant palm trees, clean sand, neat huts with world flags painted on the doors, hammocks; definitely a nice place to relax after the crazy journey of the week before. However the ocean side still feel victim to the trash of Accra. Ada is two hours away from accra but there were still plastic shopping bags that got caught around Drea’s foot when she tried to go swimming…womp womp. Anyway Doreen joined us on Saturday to spend the night and some other volunteers we know (including our roommate Kate) joined us for the day. The most adventurous thing we did is rent a motor boat to one of the near by islands to visit a rum factory…more like a single still, but none the less it was pretty cool, and the rum was decent. Drey and I bought a 1.5 L bottle for the 3 of us to share (it was Doreen’s b-day). Still not in the mood to drink after last week so I’ll be bringing a half liter home (get excited Rob and Brittany). Kinda fatigued from the sun, playing soccer and my self diagnosed sinus infection (I’ll go to the Doctors when I get back to the States) I just called it an early night. Sounds like a pretty boring weekend but after 9 weeks in Ghana it was intensely relaxing.
With less than a week to go I can only contain my excitement to go home. I’m convince that I’ll experience some “reverse” culture shock, so I’m going to continue my blog at least one week beyond Ghana. Andrea thinks we haven’t been in Ghana long enough to be shocked by our return to the US but even looking at an American dollar (I saw one the other day) looks down right strange to me. I’m sure the little things we’ve grown to take for granted (even just the plain courtesy of saying ‘good morning’ practiced by many more Ghanaians than Americans) will be sorely missed. Well 5 days to a hot shower, non-wicked oily food , and seeing terri for the first time in 2.5 months. 7 Days till saying mom, dad, the kids and my Hoboken friends. I really can’t wait.
Let me take this opportunity, if you've made it down this far, to thank everyone who has joined me on my journey in Ghana, both in real life and through my blog. Thanks Terri for putting up with my "I think I'll go to Africa this summer" spotenuity. Thanks to my parents for not worrying about me too too much. Thanks to all my friends who have commented about my journeys, including Alice Tin and Andrew Rusli who have also written travel blogs this summer with much better writing styles (and if they're nice they'll share their links in a comment)! Thanks to Andrea, Shara, Pedro, Daan, Kate and Sebastian for being the best "Obruni brotahs and sistahs" I could ask for. Those 10 weeks at Grandma's would have been a lot harder without y'all. Thanks to Terry, Cristin, Jackye, Doreen, Julie, Diego, Conrad, multiple Evans, Kwame and Olivia as well for for being great friends during my trip. I hope to stay in touch with you all.
*(Quick side story about Doreen. Born in Ghana and moved to Japan with her parent before her 2nd birthday. Live there for 10 or so years and moved to the US for highschool. Went to Michagan State, taught English in China for a few years but on her 25th birthday (literally) she was told her visa wasn’t getting renewed and she would have to return Ghana – a home that she’s never known. Despite missing Japan like crazy –her parents still live there- she’s holding up decently well.)
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Wednesday 21st – Sunday 25th (Part 2)
We arrive at the sanctuary visitors office about 24hours after we set out for it. Seems pretty relaxed. Look over the rates, arrange for a tro tro to bring us to our rooms (like 30 minutes away on another awful road) and shop for something easy to cook for dinner. For $2.10 we pick up spaghetti, tomato paste, sugar, pepper, sal, sugar, onions, garlic and groundnut paste (sorta like peanut butter) We make it to our rooms safely which was basically like little cabins. Mr. Adams (our guide) gets me a couple of pots and bowls, sets up a camp fire for us and I whipped up the first meal I’ve cooked in 2 months. It was actually pretty decent, nothing I’d make again, but I wasn’t embarrassed to serve it to my friend and Mr. Adams. After dinner by flashlight we hit the hay.
Drea and Cristin obsessed all morning as to whether we’d see hippos. During the rainy season it’s particularly hard to see them because the water level in the “Black Volta River” is much higher. After Mr. Adams was done praying we grabbed a canoe and rowed out. We had serious doubts but within 15 minutes we spotted our first hippo’s ears. After a few minutes more hippos came out to play and we saw 3 of them just chilling there, blowing water out of their nose. Little known fact. Hippos don’t drink water. They absorb water through their skins and spew out what they don’t need. They also take water through the grass. We made it back to shore within and hour and played the waiting game for our Tro to pick us up again. We hoped to take the 3-4 hour trip back to Mole in time for the 4:30pm after noon hike. Of course this is Ghana so that didn’t happen. Although we were back to shore by 9 our tro didn’t pick us up to almost noon. No matter we made it to Mole by 5:30 or so. Checked in to pretty decent dorm style rooms and ordered a lousy Western style excuse for African food dinner. Spotted warthogs running past my room.
In the morning I was first greeting by the buzz of the Men’s dorm light switch and the guard calling for the morning walk. I was further greeted by a family of baboons passing just steps from my room, in search of food. I felt vindicated for hours of travel. Our Armed Guard (legit shotgun) was kinda weird and obsessed with Antelopes, but over all he was a cool guy. On a two hour foot safari of the national park we saw elephants, antelope, at least 3 types of monkeys, warthogs and more birds than I can remember. The obvious crowd-pleasers were the elephants. The only other time I’d seen them that close was a Circus at Newport Mall in Jersey City, NJ. I recall not liking it very much because it was wicked hot and the elephants didn’t seem to be enjoying themselves. Here the elephants are free to roam where they please so we saw a couple just chilling around the park and then about 6 more playing in the watering hole.
Small hike back, decent (though long awaited) breakfast and spent some time in the hotel pool. Drea and Cristin soon became a spectacle when two schools, including one Muslim, came to visit the park : “ I feel like we’re the elephants” says Cristin. At some point I stopped of at the “staff canteen” were the park staff takes their meals and drink. Everything was much cheaper and the food was much more authentic so we decided to place an order for dinner there. With nothing much to do the 4 of us played cards with some of the staff and enjoyed watching monkeys and warthogs run around freely. One particularly brave baboon stole a coconut from the canteen, but upon being chased threw it back. Dinner was awesome as promised (A giant rice ball in peanut soup) and after dark we headed back to the rooms. There was another guy staying in the female dorms so the four of us just chilled there until I was ready for bed. Apparently one of the other park visitors was ready to go to sleep early because she said something kinda snippy about “getting up really early to catch the bus home”. Cristin, never one to take any lip exclaims “Curt, I think that was a hint you should go. A really rude German hint.”
Sunday is a lot more smooth. Catch our bus round 4:15 am, long bus rides, more ghanain movies, Andrea thinking she has malaria (she’s feeling better today so probably not), Cristin paying 20 peswas to use the bathroom (she even got a ticket), terrible roads but we make it back in our door in Accra by 9:45 pm. Really glad I took the trip, and definitely my best of the summer. I can do without extended tro-tro rides for the next few years though!
Drea and Cristin obsessed all morning as to whether we’d see hippos. During the rainy season it’s particularly hard to see them because the water level in the “Black Volta River” is much higher. After Mr. Adams was done praying we grabbed a canoe and rowed out. We had serious doubts but within 15 minutes we spotted our first hippo’s ears. After a few minutes more hippos came out to play and we saw 3 of them just chilling there, blowing water out of their nose. Little known fact. Hippos don’t drink water. They absorb water through their skins and spew out what they don’t need. They also take water through the grass. We made it back to shore within and hour and played the waiting game for our Tro to pick us up again. We hoped to take the 3-4 hour trip back to Mole in time for the 4:30pm after noon hike. Of course this is Ghana so that didn’t happen. Although we were back to shore by 9 our tro didn’t pick us up to almost noon. No matter we made it to Mole by 5:30 or so. Checked in to pretty decent dorm style rooms and ordered a lousy Western style excuse for African food dinner. Spotted warthogs running past my room.
In the morning I was first greeting by the buzz of the Men’s dorm light switch and the guard calling for the morning walk. I was further greeted by a family of baboons passing just steps from my room, in search of food. I felt vindicated for hours of travel. Our Armed Guard (legit shotgun) was kinda weird and obsessed with Antelopes, but over all he was a cool guy. On a two hour foot safari of the national park we saw elephants, antelope, at least 3 types of monkeys, warthogs and more birds than I can remember. The obvious crowd-pleasers were the elephants. The only other time I’d seen them that close was a Circus at Newport Mall in Jersey City, NJ. I recall not liking it very much because it was wicked hot and the elephants didn’t seem to be enjoying themselves. Here the elephants are free to roam where they please so we saw a couple just chilling around the park and then about 6 more playing in the watering hole.
Small hike back, decent (though long awaited) breakfast and spent some time in the hotel pool. Drea and Cristin soon became a spectacle when two schools, including one Muslim, came to visit the park : “ I feel like we’re the elephants” says Cristin. At some point I stopped of at the “staff canteen” were the park staff takes their meals and drink. Everything was much cheaper and the food was much more authentic so we decided to place an order for dinner there. With nothing much to do the 4 of us played cards with some of the staff and enjoyed watching monkeys and warthogs run around freely. One particularly brave baboon stole a coconut from the canteen, but upon being chased threw it back. Dinner was awesome as promised (A giant rice ball in peanut soup) and after dark we headed back to the rooms. There was another guy staying in the female dorms so the four of us just chilled there until I was ready for bed. Apparently one of the other park visitors was ready to go to sleep early because she said something kinda snippy about “getting up really early to catch the bus home”. Cristin, never one to take any lip exclaims “Curt, I think that was a hint you should go. A really rude German hint.”
Sunday is a lot more smooth. Catch our bus round 4:15 am, long bus rides, more ghanain movies, Andrea thinking she has malaria (she’s feeling better today so probably not), Cristin paying 20 peswas to use the bathroom (she even got a ticket), terrible roads but we make it back in our door in Accra by 9:45 pm. Really glad I took the trip, and definitely my best of the summer. I can do without extended tro-tro rides for the next few years though!
Wednesday 21st – Sunday 25th (Part 1)
The trip that almost never happened ended up being the best of the summer. Andrea and Daan have been looking forward to visiting Mole national park since early June. Problem is it’s like 14 hours away…on a good day. I went from pretty sure I wasn’t going to definitely sure I wasn’t going (after visiting green turtle I was sure I would go back there instead) to absolutely going (after asking around whether it’s worth the trip) till almost not going at all hours before I was supposed to board the bus. Ultimately I was torn between hanging out with Shara and whoever else because she just returned from being away for 3 weekends and going to an amazing place that was really far away. Though Drea probably thinks it was her Fordham law skills that persuaded me it was mostly my friend Andrew’s (from Tufts) road trip across America that inspired me to make the trip. Sure it wasn’t going to be as epic, but we were literally driving clear across the country. I took the trip as a good opportunity to do a mini-road trip, and any animals we saw (which were not a guarantee in the rainy season) would be a bonus.
So after the inevitable sibling bickering about which bus to get on, Me, Drea, Daan and Cristin boarded a 1980’s looking bus with curtains to make the first leg of our trip to Kumasi (roughly half way there). We boarded around 5:15 … I passed out around 5:45 …wake up at 9pm: “ Wtf? We’re still here?”. The blaring of a bad Ghanian movie couldn’t mask the sounds of random vendors banging on the door trying to get passengers to buy refreshments or nicknacks. See the way busses work here is, you don’t leave till it fills up. Unforntuley for is it was a big bus and several buses were going to Kumasi. Even though it was the cheapest it didn’t exactly have prime real estate in the parking lot. About 15 minutes later we were finally off and I feel asleep again (surprisingly I caught up on a lot of sleep on the first leg of our journey). Wake up around 1:45 …still not there yet. Call my Mom who is very much aware of the time difference…get grounded by my dad for “being out so late” haha. We finally arrive at Kumasi station around 2:30. Pay too much for a cab to “Wa station” (only about $1 each, but it was pretty damn close) and are pleasantly surprised to find a pretty crowded outdoor station with Weslife blaring across the street and a woman cooking egg sandwhichs and hot beverages for cheap. First night down and we didn’t even have to pay for a room.
We get our tickets round 4am…more waiting and eventually we’re off to Wa. About 8 hours later we arrive after spending time on the worst roads of all time. Someone made the analogy to riding on a “Shake weight” with wheels. Wa is a pretty low key town in the north. Lots of people riding motos as opposed to driving cars, and no one harassing you to buy things left and right. Cops were really friendly too and gave us directions to Weichu (“we chow”) Station. This part of our journey is actually going a couple hours away from the Mole National Park. Weichu is home to a hippo sanctuary. My limited understanding of sanctuaries is it’s a nature reserve and the animals are free to come and go as they please. The community (and various international volunteers who come and go) maintaining the sanctuary just make sure no one or thing is harming the hippos and they do a survey of the river now and then get a head count. After grabbing some snacks in the near by market, waiting a bunch on the tro for it to leave we set of for Weichu. Correction, these are the worst effing roads I’ve ever been on. Spoiler alert to Aunt Missy, I was in another car accident so you might as well skip down to the part when we see elephants and monkeys if you don’t want to hear about it. For you law school kids our driver was definitely being negligent. To the point where I’m just sitting there going…he’s going to honk his horn right? He’s gonna break yes? Nope. He nearly kamikazes into the back of a pick up truck before veering off the road into a ditch. On our way we teetered dangerously back and forth on either side on two wheels, flirting with the wind to tip us over. I’ve been hardened by my first accident and the everyday dangers of getting to work in the morning so I was actually completely calm and away of my surroundings. I actually tried tipping in the opposite direction a couple times to keep the car from going over completely. Meanwhile there was a crying baby, a pregnant woman, several elderly people, some young woman yelling “Jesus! Jesus” and Andrea repeating hysterically “we’re gonna tip over, we’re gonna tip over”. We didn’t tip over. We just ended up sorta stuck in a ditch on the side of the road. After checking to see If everyone was alright, which did little good because these particular northerners didn’t know or care much for English, I helped push the tro back onto the road (or rather tried but did a rather poor job of it). Luckily we were only about 5 minutes away from the sanctuary. …Stay tuned for the rest of the story coming soon.
So after the inevitable sibling bickering about which bus to get on, Me, Drea, Daan and Cristin boarded a 1980’s looking bus with curtains to make the first leg of our trip to Kumasi (roughly half way there). We boarded around 5:15 … I passed out around 5:45 …wake up at 9pm: “ Wtf? We’re still here?”. The blaring of a bad Ghanian movie couldn’t mask the sounds of random vendors banging on the door trying to get passengers to buy refreshments or nicknacks. See the way busses work here is, you don’t leave till it fills up. Unforntuley for is it was a big bus and several buses were going to Kumasi. Even though it was the cheapest it didn’t exactly have prime real estate in the parking lot. About 15 minutes later we were finally off and I feel asleep again (surprisingly I caught up on a lot of sleep on the first leg of our journey). Wake up around 1:45 …still not there yet. Call my Mom who is very much aware of the time difference…get grounded by my dad for “being out so late” haha. We finally arrive at Kumasi station around 2:30. Pay too much for a cab to “Wa station” (only about $1 each, but it was pretty damn close) and are pleasantly surprised to find a pretty crowded outdoor station with Weslife blaring across the street and a woman cooking egg sandwhichs and hot beverages for cheap. First night down and we didn’t even have to pay for a room.
We get our tickets round 4am…more waiting and eventually we’re off to Wa. About 8 hours later we arrive after spending time on the worst roads of all time. Someone made the analogy to riding on a “Shake weight” with wheels. Wa is a pretty low key town in the north. Lots of people riding motos as opposed to driving cars, and no one harassing you to buy things left and right. Cops were really friendly too and gave us directions to Weichu (“we chow”) Station. This part of our journey is actually going a couple hours away from the Mole National Park. Weichu is home to a hippo sanctuary. My limited understanding of sanctuaries is it’s a nature reserve and the animals are free to come and go as they please. The community (and various international volunteers who come and go) maintaining the sanctuary just make sure no one or thing is harming the hippos and they do a survey of the river now and then get a head count. After grabbing some snacks in the near by market, waiting a bunch on the tro for it to leave we set of for Weichu. Correction, these are the worst effing roads I’ve ever been on. Spoiler alert to Aunt Missy, I was in another car accident so you might as well skip down to the part when we see elephants and monkeys if you don’t want to hear about it. For you law school kids our driver was definitely being negligent. To the point where I’m just sitting there going…he’s going to honk his horn right? He’s gonna break yes? Nope. He nearly kamikazes into the back of a pick up truck before veering off the road into a ditch. On our way we teetered dangerously back and forth on either side on two wheels, flirting with the wind to tip us over. I’ve been hardened by my first accident and the everyday dangers of getting to work in the morning so I was actually completely calm and away of my surroundings. I actually tried tipping in the opposite direction a couple times to keep the car from going over completely. Meanwhile there was a crying baby, a pregnant woman, several elderly people, some young woman yelling “Jesus! Jesus” and Andrea repeating hysterically “we’re gonna tip over, we’re gonna tip over”. We didn’t tip over. We just ended up sorta stuck in a ditch on the side of the road. After checking to see If everyone was alright, which did little good because these particular northerners didn’t know or care much for English, I helped push the tro back onto the road (or rather tried but did a rather poor job of it). Luckily we were only about 5 minutes away from the sanctuary. …Stay tuned for the rest of the story coming soon.
Monday, July 26, 2010
July 17th – July 21st
Our 3rd visit to Komeyete’s wasn’t all that different from the 2nd, except for a complete lack of sleep. If you read my post about that weekend, swap out Daan and Pedro for Cristin and Julie (a friend I made through Shara). We didn’t get to clean the beach for lack of trash bags but we did get to plant some trees with Komeyete’s reforestation project.
That Saturday night was just awful though. The 5 of us (refresher, Me, Terry, Andrea, Cristin and Julie) crammed under a table cloth as a make-shift mosquito net and tried to go to sleep. After about 15 minutes with my eyes closed (though it felt like it could have been a lot longer) I was awoken by the sound of at least 50 mosquitoes buzzing around the net. It was deafening, and I had to check several times to make sure it wasn’t actually in my ear. Terry didn’t have to ask twice if I wanted to get the hell outta there and we went back around the bond fire to find Komoyete and some of his friends trying to sleep under the protection of heat. They didn’t seem to be having a great time at that either. As I alluded to earlier, neither Terry nor I really knew what time it was. We assumed that the sun would be rising soon so we planned to just wait it out. Delirious probably from the application of too much Deet (mosquito repellent) Terry asks me to burry him in the sand. He was actually safe for about 15 minutes until some creatures (either sand crabs or really freakin persistent mosquitoes) found their way to him.
I decided it would be best to walk down to the neighboring beach because the mosquitoes are less apt to bother moving objects. It actually worked. On our way we past an inexplicable heard of goats never before seen on our previous visits to the Island though I suppose not as mysterious as the polar bears on LOST™. After about 45 minutes of walking/stopping to enjoy the momentary lack of buzzing Terry spoke aloud what we both suspected, that it was actually a lot closer to dusk than dawn. I walked Terry back but having been disturbed to the point of being wide awake I tried my luck at the heat method again. Nope. So I set off back to the neighboring beach, cursing myself because I lost another debate with Andrea, who has taken to nagging me like a real sibling not just my “American sistah”, regarding whether I should go to the Island that weekend: “If only I stayed in Accra and visited the University of Ghana instead” I muttered to myself …and the goats. A peer across the river revealed that those plans might as well been a wash too since Accra was Black with power outages. Delirium clearly set in our my part now because I decided to climb up to a life guard tower and sing Beatles songs to myself. Sunrise began about 2 hours later I guess and after waving to the security guard, I went back to my end of the Island, determined to row a boat back on my lonesome. Instead I ended up having a great conversation with this guy named Charles, an older gentleman who likes to go on long runs on Sundays and has chatted me up in the past. He’s a Ghanaian working with an NGO, making way to Houston, T X at the end of the August for some sort of training. What we chatted about wasn’t important but it definitely made me less angry. Julie joined us not to long after our conversation started, and I learned about all the work she’s done in Africa over the past few years. She gets the worst of the “Obruni” cat calls since she’s a white woman from Boston, MA, but ironically she’s probably seen more of Africa than 80% of Ghanaians.
We left the island pretty early so that we can wash up before celebrating Andrea’s (23rd) and Terry’s (22nd) birthday. Swap back Pedro and Daan for Cristin and Juli for our party ..and add an Energy drink while you’re at it. Sunday’s are randomly a big party night in Accra. Maybe it’s the holyghost or some other divine spirit but the Lord’s day is definitely more fun than any Friday I’ve spent in the city. We got a few drinks at our favorite spot called “Duncans” (waiters are nice and they don’t try to Obruni-price us) and planned on having a foreign food dinner. As almost 2 hours ticked by we decided it was probably best to just get some fast food. We ended up at Papaye, a local joint which is renowned for their chicken and rice (as a foodie/vegetarian I’m comfortable to say that it does appear that they prepare their birds quite well, which is all I can ask for. If you’re gonna kill animals at least see them to a proper end). The 5 of us ended up ordering burgers and chips (egg sandwich for me) which I only mention because it was the best egg sandwich I’ve had in years…think big mac without the extra bread and fried eggs instead of beef. We ended up back home after midnight.
Monday morning I began to cram about 7 days worth of work into just 3. The court is about to go on vacation so I had to wrap up about 5 cases for my boss. Even though between Saturday and Wednesday afternoon I only ended up with 16 hours sleep I’m happy with my work. On Wednesday we set off for Mole National Park in the northern region which is the subject of my next post.
That Saturday night was just awful though. The 5 of us (refresher, Me, Terry, Andrea, Cristin and Julie) crammed under a table cloth as a make-shift mosquito net and tried to go to sleep. After about 15 minutes with my eyes closed (though it felt like it could have been a lot longer) I was awoken by the sound of at least 50 mosquitoes buzzing around the net. It was deafening, and I had to check several times to make sure it wasn’t actually in my ear. Terry didn’t have to ask twice if I wanted to get the hell outta there and we went back around the bond fire to find Komoyete and some of his friends trying to sleep under the protection of heat. They didn’t seem to be having a great time at that either. As I alluded to earlier, neither Terry nor I really knew what time it was. We assumed that the sun would be rising soon so we planned to just wait it out. Delirious probably from the application of too much Deet (mosquito repellent) Terry asks me to burry him in the sand. He was actually safe for about 15 minutes until some creatures (either sand crabs or really freakin persistent mosquitoes) found their way to him.
I decided it would be best to walk down to the neighboring beach because the mosquitoes are less apt to bother moving objects. It actually worked. On our way we past an inexplicable heard of goats never before seen on our previous visits to the Island though I suppose not as mysterious as the polar bears on LOST™. After about 45 minutes of walking/stopping to enjoy the momentary lack of buzzing Terry spoke aloud what we both suspected, that it was actually a lot closer to dusk than dawn. I walked Terry back but having been disturbed to the point of being wide awake I tried my luck at the heat method again. Nope. So I set off back to the neighboring beach, cursing myself because I lost another debate with Andrea, who has taken to nagging me like a real sibling not just my “American sistah”, regarding whether I should go to the Island that weekend: “If only I stayed in Accra and visited the University of Ghana instead” I muttered to myself …and the goats. A peer across the river revealed that those plans might as well been a wash too since Accra was Black with power outages. Delirium clearly set in our my part now because I decided to climb up to a life guard tower and sing Beatles songs to myself. Sunrise began about 2 hours later I guess and after waving to the security guard, I went back to my end of the Island, determined to row a boat back on my lonesome. Instead I ended up having a great conversation with this guy named Charles, an older gentleman who likes to go on long runs on Sundays and has chatted me up in the past. He’s a Ghanaian working with an NGO, making way to Houston, T X at the end of the August for some sort of training. What we chatted about wasn’t important but it definitely made me less angry. Julie joined us not to long after our conversation started, and I learned about all the work she’s done in Africa over the past few years. She gets the worst of the “Obruni” cat calls since she’s a white woman from Boston, MA, but ironically she’s probably seen more of Africa than 80% of Ghanaians.
We left the island pretty early so that we can wash up before celebrating Andrea’s (23rd) and Terry’s (22nd) birthday. Swap back Pedro and Daan for Cristin and Juli for our party ..and add an Energy drink while you’re at it. Sunday’s are randomly a big party night in Accra. Maybe it’s the holyghost or some other divine spirit but the Lord’s day is definitely more fun than any Friday I’ve spent in the city. We got a few drinks at our favorite spot called “Duncans” (waiters are nice and they don’t try to Obruni-price us) and planned on having a foreign food dinner. As almost 2 hours ticked by we decided it was probably best to just get some fast food. We ended up at Papaye, a local joint which is renowned for their chicken and rice (as a foodie/vegetarian I’m comfortable to say that it does appear that they prepare their birds quite well, which is all I can ask for. If you’re gonna kill animals at least see them to a proper end). The 5 of us ended up ordering burgers and chips (egg sandwich for me) which I only mention because it was the best egg sandwich I’ve had in years…think big mac without the extra bread and fried eggs instead of beef. We ended up back home after midnight.
Monday morning I began to cram about 7 days worth of work into just 3. The court is about to go on vacation so I had to wrap up about 5 cases for my boss. Even though between Saturday and Wednesday afternoon I only ended up with 16 hours sleep I’m happy with my work. On Wednesday we set off for Mole National Park in the northern region which is the subject of my next post.
Friday, July 16, 2010
July 12th - July 16th
Andrea and I were snapped slightly back into reality this week as we both had OCI (on campus interview) stuff to do for our summer 2011 jobs. It actually wasn't terrible using the 3g modems we bought, but it took up the free time that used to be reserved for watching the world cup :P
I still managed to have some fun though. Tuesday was my brother Sean’s b-day. Knowing him he probably had enough fun for both of us. On Wednesday I went to hang out with Evans, the dude that helped me get set up in Ghana. His friend Rashida popped in Evans' place because she agreed to make a dress for Terri. For roughly $20, including the cost of nice fabric that Shara helped me pick out a couple weeks ago, you can get a tailor made dress, complete in a week! The three of us watched the U-20 women's teams from Ghana ("the Black Princess") battle the defending champion Americans to a tie. That's the result I like to see when my two favorite teams meet, haha.
On Thursday, I wanted to get a bunch of people together for a drink, which presented the perfect opportunity to visit Pedro in his new digs (I can't remember if I wrote about it, but Pedro moved out of my room into an Apt just beyond the Teshi-Nungua traffic. It became completely necessary because he is extending his stay by at least 2 months. )His place is actually really nice! He's got like a kitchenette, and a small living room with two chairs and a table. And a couch, bed and tv in his room. He's actually paying less money than us for a nicer place but it took him forever to find it. As I’m writing the power just went off, but thank goodness for the generator that allowed me to save my progress. Power came back in 2 minutes though.
Me, Daan, Pedro, Andrea and Jackye grabbed a drink at the “T” spot (named for the T shaped junction by which it’s located. Whilst Pedro was telling us another one of his wild drunk stories from the night before that involved him and Terry pleading with prostitutes to find a new line of work a debate ensued about prostitution that left me and Andrea arguing for a half an hour, while the other 3 got bored and started a side conversation (Andrea is actually interviewing commercial sex workers for the report she’s working on at the Human Rights Center). Law school creeps its way in, again!
Jackye went home and the remaining 4 of us went to a dinner spot that Pedro discovered a couple nights ago. It was nice to get a local meal as a “family” that wasn’t cooked to death by grandma. For 7 cedi total ($5) we all got a substantial meal (rice balls with peanut soup and an egg for me). Lucky for Pedro, he really likes local food so he’ll survive at least another 2 months.
Aside from Daan, who really wants to go home as soon as she can, I feel like we’ve all said this week how much we’re used to living here. With a little under a month to go it’s a good feeling to have. My boss keeps floating the idea of my coming back after I get my law degree to work at his firm or to teach at the University of Ghana law school (he even brought me to the school to meet a senior professor). At first it seemed kind of outlandish but I’m actually giving it thought. I have a great boss here, who trusts me with some substantial work (ask me about the work I’m doing with Internet fraud right now). Additionally, I always thought when I was growing up how cool it would be to give my kids the unique experience of living abroad as a child… so the possibility of coming back for a year or two when my first born is of school age (5 or so) is seeming like a viable option. Of course that is just fantasy at this point, so I don’t wanna hear any lip from family about sweeping their currently non-existent grandchildren or nieces/nephews to Africa.
This weekend me, Christin (the girl who came to the Western region with us last weekend), Terry and Andrea are going to visit Komeyete, again. We’re hoping to bring trash bags, rubber gloves and candy to “Africa” to convince the kids to help us clean up the beach. There are a ton of plastic bags and other rubbish that washes up from Accra, and it really mars the otherwise beautiful scenery (and football matches are a drag when you trip over plastic coke bottle every ten minutes). We’re hoping to make a short trip out of it so we can come back to Accra to celebrate Andrea’s birthday/gear up for our 12 hour journey to the Northern region next weekend!
I still managed to have some fun though. Tuesday was my brother Sean’s b-day. Knowing him he probably had enough fun for both of us. On Wednesday I went to hang out with Evans, the dude that helped me get set up in Ghana. His friend Rashida popped in Evans' place because she agreed to make a dress for Terri. For roughly $20, including the cost of nice fabric that Shara helped me pick out a couple weeks ago, you can get a tailor made dress, complete in a week! The three of us watched the U-20 women's teams from Ghana ("the Black Princess") battle the defending champion Americans to a tie. That's the result I like to see when my two favorite teams meet, haha.
On Thursday, I wanted to get a bunch of people together for a drink, which presented the perfect opportunity to visit Pedro in his new digs (I can't remember if I wrote about it, but Pedro moved out of my room into an Apt just beyond the Teshi-Nungua traffic. It became completely necessary because he is extending his stay by at least 2 months. )His place is actually really nice! He's got like a kitchenette, and a small living room with two chairs and a table. And a couch, bed and tv in his room. He's actually paying less money than us for a nicer place but it took him forever to find it. As I’m writing the power just went off, but thank goodness for the generator that allowed me to save my progress. Power came back in 2 minutes though.
Me, Daan, Pedro, Andrea and Jackye grabbed a drink at the “T” spot (named for the T shaped junction by which it’s located. Whilst Pedro was telling us another one of his wild drunk stories from the night before that involved him and Terry pleading with prostitutes to find a new line of work a debate ensued about prostitution that left me and Andrea arguing for a half an hour, while the other 3 got bored and started a side conversation (Andrea is actually interviewing commercial sex workers for the report she’s working on at the Human Rights Center). Law school creeps its way in, again!
Jackye went home and the remaining 4 of us went to a dinner spot that Pedro discovered a couple nights ago. It was nice to get a local meal as a “family” that wasn’t cooked to death by grandma. For 7 cedi total ($5) we all got a substantial meal (rice balls with peanut soup and an egg for me). Lucky for Pedro, he really likes local food so he’ll survive at least another 2 months.
Aside from Daan, who really wants to go home as soon as she can, I feel like we’ve all said this week how much we’re used to living here. With a little under a month to go it’s a good feeling to have. My boss keeps floating the idea of my coming back after I get my law degree to work at his firm or to teach at the University of Ghana law school (he even brought me to the school to meet a senior professor). At first it seemed kind of outlandish but I’m actually giving it thought. I have a great boss here, who trusts me with some substantial work (ask me about the work I’m doing with Internet fraud right now). Additionally, I always thought when I was growing up how cool it would be to give my kids the unique experience of living abroad as a child… so the possibility of coming back for a year or two when my first born is of school age (5 or so) is seeming like a viable option. Of course that is just fantasy at this point, so I don’t wanna hear any lip from family about sweeping their currently non-existent grandchildren or nieces/nephews to Africa.
This weekend me, Christin (the girl who came to the Western region with us last weekend), Terry and Andrea are going to visit Komeyete, again. We’re hoping to bring trash bags, rubber gloves and candy to “Africa” to convince the kids to help us clean up the beach. There are a ton of plastic bags and other rubbish that washes up from Accra, and it really mars the otherwise beautiful scenery (and football matches are a drag when you trip over plastic coke bottle every ten minutes). We’re hoping to make a short trip out of it so we can come back to Accra to celebrate Andrea’s birthday/gear up for our 12 hour journey to the Northern region next weekend!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Weekend of July 9th
This weekend had to the potentional to be really amazing or really lousy...it ended up being just ok but that's quite alright. Andrea and I tag-teamed the planning to visit the Nzulezo (N-zu-lay-zu) stilt village. Drea's internet is really bad so I scoured the net for whatever I could find whenever I had down time. I came up with our accomdation for Friday, just outside the village in a Town called Beyin. It got really good reviews and the owner was friendly enough. The worst part of the planning was an unwillingness to be exclusive. It's hard to not invite people to weekend trips, especially newbie Obruni's who have no idea what to do or see, but at one point we had 12 confirmed people. It's hard enough to take a trip to Adam's Morgan with 12 people, try arranging transportation and accommodations for a place 5 hours and 2 different busses away! Luckily the newer half of the group decided it was best that they get their feet wet with something more local, leaving a manageable group of Me, Drea, Daan, Terry, and new friends Christin and Emma. Andrea broke her “no obruni's with braids rule” with Christin , a work colleague, and it really paid off, she's a nice girl from Gary, Indiana with a lot of personality. Guess you can't judge an obruni by their ill fashioned hairdo (or however the phrase goes). Andrea arranged the second night at the Green Turtle lodge, dubbed the nicest beach in Ghana and popular volunteer spot for their turtle conservationist project.
Getting there was a mess still...mostly b/c of the rain and transfer but we made it safely. The hostel/resort was really nice, but by the time we got there we passed out. It misted all morning, causing us to jog from our rooms to breakfast. On the way Christin must have dropped her wallet because half way through our meal one of the caretakers came by and handed it to us. “The money's gonna be gone” whispered Christin cynically, but sure enough it was. When she asked who found it because there was money missing the waitress immediately started yelling at the guy who gave it to her in one of the Ghanian Dialects. The dude started stripping to prove his innocence and he looked genuinely upset about the ordeal. Andrea saw Christin count out her money on the way to breakfast so there's no doubt she had it on the way. It's possible that someone came along and found the wallet and tossed it down for the male caretaker to find...but there was almost no one else at the place. After the owner raced back from town and had a chat with us...we ended up with 20 Cedi's off our bill, leaving a 50 cedi deficit for Christin :-/ . We'll never know what really happened, but at least we're all safe.
In the interirm between losing Christin's money and meeting with the Owner of the Beyin Hotel we went to see the village. Andrea will describe the trip there as a canoe ride...but Terry and I can tell you (the leaders of the two boats) that it was most definitely a row....like a 40 minute row! But it was still misting so it was really enjoyable. The stilt village was built by refugees escaping a war. I'm unclear about the entire story but I'll supplement this post with more info... The village was actually really disappointing. I would not recommend. The whole experience felt like we were uninvited guests in someones home. The people on the village weren't all that friendly and understandably so. These 6 random obrunis (and others who make the trip) find their everyday life sooooooooooooo amusing, that they pay to 7 cedi each to row a boat out to see them. But they do appreciate the proceeds and the extra donation to the school that we and others undoubtedly give so I guess it's a tradeoff.
After the Coke summit with the owner of the Beyin Hotel we set off for Green Turtle Lodge. Another travel hassel, including 10 KM of the bumpiest road I've ever been on but we got there with almost 2 hours of sunlight (and we made it about 90 minutes closer to Accra for our return trip.) It was well worth the trip. Isolated from the world and the food was amazing (example: French Toast with bananas and African honey + real coffee for the first time since I left the States). We popped open a bottle of Argentine wine I bought for $3 from a convenience store in Accra (not bad at all) but I barely finished a sip because I was drawn to the volley ball net. Terry and I ran over and joined two spainish couples in a match. Louis (a diplomat) Dorethea, Nacho (not sure if that's his name...but he pulls it off) and another woman who had a really pretty spanish name that I can't remember (all jounalists) were an awesome find. We played volley ball with them until it got dark, and soccer the next day. They came down in two SVU's so they had 3 seats in each and offered to give us a ride back to Accra. They saved us soooooooooo much hassle and since they wanted to get back for the world cup, we were sure to make it back for the match too. So even though I was pulling for Holland after Ghana was eliminated, I had too much Spanish hospitality not to root feverishly for them. Me, Daan and Andrea went to Epos one last time to bid farewell to a large chapter in our Africa experience. We donned spanish flags on our faces, courtesy of our new friends, and watched the game outside on giant movie screens. In case you live under a rock, Spain pulled out the victory in Extra time and our 4 friends and 20 or so other spanish transplants were beside themselves. I gave Nacho a hug to congratulate him and before Andrea could do the same, he had to stabilize himself on a chair as he dropped his head in his hands to pour tears of joy.
Monday morning ended up with no power in my office all day. Now that the world cup is done it's gonna be a pretty regular thing. Womp Womp.
Getting there was a mess still...mostly b/c of the rain and transfer but we made it safely. The hostel/resort was really nice, but by the time we got there we passed out. It misted all morning, causing us to jog from our rooms to breakfast. On the way Christin must have dropped her wallet because half way through our meal one of the caretakers came by and handed it to us. “The money's gonna be gone” whispered Christin cynically, but sure enough it was. When she asked who found it because there was money missing the waitress immediately started yelling at the guy who gave it to her in one of the Ghanian Dialects. The dude started stripping to prove his innocence and he looked genuinely upset about the ordeal. Andrea saw Christin count out her money on the way to breakfast so there's no doubt she had it on the way. It's possible that someone came along and found the wallet and tossed it down for the male caretaker to find...but there was almost no one else at the place. After the owner raced back from town and had a chat with us...we ended up with 20 Cedi's off our bill, leaving a 50 cedi deficit for Christin :-/ . We'll never know what really happened, but at least we're all safe.
In the interirm between losing Christin's money and meeting with the Owner of the Beyin Hotel we went to see the village. Andrea will describe the trip there as a canoe ride...but Terry and I can tell you (the leaders of the two boats) that it was most definitely a row....like a 40 minute row! But it was still misting so it was really enjoyable. The stilt village was built by refugees escaping a war. I'm unclear about the entire story but I'll supplement this post with more info... The village was actually really disappointing. I would not recommend. The whole experience felt like we were uninvited guests in someones home. The people on the village weren't all that friendly and understandably so. These 6 random obrunis (and others who make the trip) find their everyday life sooooooooooooo amusing, that they pay to 7 cedi each to row a boat out to see them. But they do appreciate the proceeds and the extra donation to the school that we and others undoubtedly give so I guess it's a tradeoff.
After the Coke summit with the owner of the Beyin Hotel we set off for Green Turtle Lodge. Another travel hassel, including 10 KM of the bumpiest road I've ever been on but we got there with almost 2 hours of sunlight (and we made it about 90 minutes closer to Accra for our return trip.) It was well worth the trip. Isolated from the world and the food was amazing (example: French Toast with bananas and African honey + real coffee for the first time since I left the States). We popped open a bottle of Argentine wine I bought for $3 from a convenience store in Accra (not bad at all) but I barely finished a sip because I was drawn to the volley ball net. Terry and I ran over and joined two spainish couples in a match. Louis (a diplomat) Dorethea, Nacho (not sure if that's his name...but he pulls it off) and another woman who had a really pretty spanish name that I can't remember (all jounalists) were an awesome find. We played volley ball with them until it got dark, and soccer the next day. They came down in two SVU's so they had 3 seats in each and offered to give us a ride back to Accra. They saved us soooooooooo much hassle and since they wanted to get back for the world cup, we were sure to make it back for the match too. So even though I was pulling for Holland after Ghana was eliminated, I had too much Spanish hospitality not to root feverishly for them. Me, Daan and Andrea went to Epos one last time to bid farewell to a large chapter in our Africa experience. We donned spanish flags on our faces, courtesy of our new friends, and watched the game outside on giant movie screens. In case you live under a rock, Spain pulled out the victory in Extra time and our 4 friends and 20 or so other spanish transplants were beside themselves. I gave Nacho a hug to congratulate him and before Andrea could do the same, he had to stabilize himself on a chair as he dropped his head in his hands to pour tears of joy.
Monday morning ended up with no power in my office all day. Now that the world cup is done it's gonna be a pretty regular thing. Womp Womp.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Republic Day- July 1st/ Weekend of July 2nd
Thursday was very well near my 4th religious experience of the week (but Andrea, being the law student she is would not let me call it one). Andrea invited me, shara and Daan to hang out with a guy she met here (Prince Nana) and his "keep fit club". We piled into a van with way too many people and sang religious songs, played drums, made crazy highpitched noises etc for about 3 hours to visit bodi falls. I gotta say the ride down was actually more fun than the place itself. Perhaps because we were celebrating Republic Day, which is like indepence day part II for Ghana (when the British occupiers actually left) but the place looked like 6 flags great adventure. Along the route in the forest were several Fan Ice Vendors (idk if i ever talked about this, but imagine a Wendy's frostie stuffed into a little plastic pouch...for 25 cents...so good), food vendors, vendors of anything people were willing to carry on their head. And there were just way to many people. Being from right outside the NYC you'd think i'd be ok with that...but Terri can tell you that I really am not. I don't like midtown NYC at all, and I almost choked a b***h during the Cherry Blossom festival in DC. Anyway we had a pretty challenging hike to see this palmtree with 3 branches...the hike was cool but the tree was unimpressive. I actually really enjoy hiking these days and I told Brittany that we should round up some people at the Law Center to take a weekend trip to West Virginia
if anyone is down for that when I get back to D.C.. Ghanaian do not enjoy hiking though, for all their superior fitness over Americans they are not built for climbing. Everyone asked me every two minutes if I was tired and they were surprised when I told them know with a laugh. Me and this dude Maxwell broke a way from the pack on the way back and went on ahead to the bodi waterfall...pretty nice but not as impressive as the Wili water falls I saw a couple weeks ago... at lunch I met a young kid named Issac Newton (with a Ghanian Last Name I can't recall). He loves science and wants to be a pilot when he grows up. Issac asked me to stay with him while Shara and Andrea went to dance with some of the women we came with. Apparently some jerks were bothering them the one time I wasn't around to defend them but luckily one of the guys we came with was there to defuse the situation. After that the entire keepfit club broke away from the pack and we had an African Dance/Drum session before a 5 hour trotro trip home (the drive was doing like 40km an hour for no apparent reason :-/)
We didn't plan on going anywhere this weekend as Shara was off to climb mount Kili and me, pedro and Andrea wanted to stay in town to the blackstars match (which they lost in a heartbreaking fashion I care not to rehash). One of Andrea/Pedro's collauges really wanted to meet komeyete after Andrea blabbed on about him so we paid him another visit. This time we didn't have to stay in a hostel as he arranged for us to stay in a fishing village/island he calls "Africa" (if anyone knows Ghana the village shares an Island with Bojo Beach). Komeyete was much more talkative this week, perhaps because he was more aquinted with me and andrea, or maybe he was just excited to have so many new friends. Me, Andrea, Pedro, Terry and Daan walked around Komeyte's village looking at the trees he just planted for his reforstation project. We set of for Africa after not too long. Everytime I take a boat to or from Africa I get this feeling of being plucked from earth and placed in a picture of the most beautiful landscape you ever imagined. The number of times me and Terry exchanged the phrases "this isn't real" or "wow...this is amazing" could not be counted on our fingers and toes. After a swim, me, Terry and Pedro played football with some local kids. All the kids were really nice and friendly and of course master footballers. The sunset was incredible, easily the most beautiful I've ever seen. All the while Komoyete was building a tent out of reeds that we brought from the forest and some tarp. His friend also built a bonfire. After we changed up, we sat around the bonfire and hung out with the kids and whoever else in the village was interested. After a bit komeyete removed some hotstones from the bonfire and brought them into the tarp/reed tent. About 5 minutes later he advised us to put some swimming clothes on and to bring it some bags of drinking water. We through some lemon grass on the stones and periodicly poured water on the stones for a sauna experience you could not buy in the US. Terri's mother once told me that lemongrass tea can cure cancer and I definitely felt toxins exiting my body. I'm def. going to try to recreate this one weekend in the US.
The next morning I played football with the kids again and actually got a little sunburn (not a burn, burn, but my skin was peeling a bit)...whoops. They nicknamed Terry Obruni fish (white fish) and later nicknamed me redfish, I'm assuming because of my new color I'm rocking here. When I tan I tend to look Native American. We took a short trip down to bojo beach and on the way back helped bring in a very large fishing catch. We only helped for the last half hour and got all of the glory of seeing the catch bring brought in, but these guys were having a tug of war with the sea for hours. I really don't know how they do it. We actually bought some of the fish for very cheap and komeyete's friends friend it up for everyone except the stupid vegetarian (me :P) . Aside for the inexplicable meloncholy mood that has washed over me for two consecutive Sundays , it was a terrific weekend.
This weekend were going to visit the Nzeluzo Village on stilts (you can only get there by boat) and the Green Turtle Lodge -- the nicest beach in Ghana/turtle conservationist resort.
if anyone is down for that when I get back to D.C.. Ghanaian do not enjoy hiking though, for all their superior fitness over Americans they are not built for climbing. Everyone asked me every two minutes if I was tired and they were surprised when I told them know with a laugh. Me and this dude Maxwell broke a way from the pack on the way back and went on ahead to the bodi waterfall...pretty nice but not as impressive as the Wili water falls I saw a couple weeks ago... at lunch I met a young kid named Issac Newton (with a Ghanian Last Name I can't recall). He loves science and wants to be a pilot when he grows up. Issac asked me to stay with him while Shara and Andrea went to dance with some of the women we came with. Apparently some jerks were bothering them the one time I wasn't around to defend them but luckily one of the guys we came with was there to defuse the situation. After that the entire keepfit club broke away from the pack and we had an African Dance/Drum session before a 5 hour trotro trip home (the drive was doing like 40km an hour for no apparent reason :-/)
We didn't plan on going anywhere this weekend as Shara was off to climb mount Kili and me, pedro and Andrea wanted to stay in town to the blackstars match (which they lost in a heartbreaking fashion I care not to rehash). One of Andrea/Pedro's collauges really wanted to meet komeyete after Andrea blabbed on about him so we paid him another visit. This time we didn't have to stay in a hostel as he arranged for us to stay in a fishing village/island he calls "Africa" (if anyone knows Ghana the village shares an Island with Bojo Beach). Komeyete was much more talkative this week, perhaps because he was more aquinted with me and andrea, or maybe he was just excited to have so many new friends. Me, Andrea, Pedro, Terry and Daan walked around Komeyte's village looking at the trees he just planted for his reforstation project. We set of for Africa after not too long. Everytime I take a boat to or from Africa I get this feeling of being plucked from earth and placed in a picture of the most beautiful landscape you ever imagined. The number of times me and Terry exchanged the phrases "this isn't real" or "wow...this is amazing" could not be counted on our fingers and toes. After a swim, me, Terry and Pedro played football with some local kids. All the kids were really nice and friendly and of course master footballers. The sunset was incredible, easily the most beautiful I've ever seen. All the while Komoyete was building a tent out of reeds that we brought from the forest and some tarp. His friend also built a bonfire. After we changed up, we sat around the bonfire and hung out with the kids and whoever else in the village was interested. After a bit komeyete removed some hotstones from the bonfire and brought them into the tarp/reed tent. About 5 minutes later he advised us to put some swimming clothes on and to bring it some bags of drinking water. We through some lemon grass on the stones and periodicly poured water on the stones for a sauna experience you could not buy in the US. Terri's mother once told me that lemongrass tea can cure cancer and I definitely felt toxins exiting my body. I'm def. going to try to recreate this one weekend in the US.
The next morning I played football with the kids again and actually got a little sunburn (not a burn, burn, but my skin was peeling a bit)...whoops. They nicknamed Terry Obruni fish (white fish) and later nicknamed me redfish, I'm assuming because of my new color I'm rocking here. When I tan I tend to look Native American. We took a short trip down to bojo beach and on the way back helped bring in a very large fishing catch. We only helped for the last half hour and got all of the glory of seeing the catch bring brought in, but these guys were having a tug of war with the sea for hours. I really don't know how they do it. We actually bought some of the fish for very cheap and komeyete's friends friend it up for everyone except the stupid vegetarian (me :P) . Aside for the inexplicable meloncholy mood that has washed over me for two consecutive Sundays , it was a terrific weekend.
This weekend were going to visit the Nzeluzo Village on stilts (you can only get there by boat) and the Green Turtle Lodge -- the nicest beach in Ghana/turtle conservationist resort.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Post: Coming Soon
Thursday - BodiFalls/Republic Day
Weekend - Impromptu visit to our friend Komeyete: Highlights, sleeping on the beach in a traditional hut, hanging out with sweet kids in the fishing village, football on the beach, bonfire, homemade sauna on the beach, helping bring in a large fishing catch...
Weekend - Impromptu visit to our friend Komeyete: Highlights, sleeping on the beach in a traditional hut, hanging out with sweet kids in the fishing village, football on the beach, bonfire, homemade sauna on the beach, helping bring in a large fishing catch...
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
June 30th
I’m not a particularly religious person. Although I was raised Roman Catholic I’ve studied more Islam than any other major religion out of mere compassion for innocent Muslims discriminated against post 9/11. I call my self a Unitarian but only for the fact that they are the most accepting and tolerant of different points of view as far as I know. I simply try to live my life doing what I feel is good and right while minimizing the expression of my many flaws. Church is not my favorite thing, but Elyse advised me to check it out and she hasn’t let me down with “must do” Ghana experiences thus far. If there was any doubt as to whether I’d make it, Shara nagged me and my housemates to be up for church at 5am during our (me, shara and Andrea’s) first weekend, despite the fact that we were up till 2 and still jet lagged. We never made it to church that Sunday, I’ve had three spiritual experiences in the past five days. The first of the trio was hiking to a little used place of worship with a Rastafarian. When Americans think of Rastas immediately what comes to mind are probably dread locks, marijuana and Bob Marely. But behind the stereotype is a deep appreciation of loving your fellow man, being a good person and having faith against all odds. Komoyete told us of the struggle to preserve the most spiritual aspects of Rastafarianism in light of Christianity’s sweeping reach in Ghana.
Last night was my second experience. Shara and I went to a Pentecostal service (at the International Central Gospel Church in Osu, Accra) with Olivia, a Ghanaian journalist and friend of our housemate Daan. When we arrived the congregation was in the midst of “worship” which is singing and dancing. We were lucky that they were teaching a new song so we could sing along. After a couple of minutes I closed my eyes and observed the goings on with my ears. There were random shouts of “praise the lord, lord have mercy, hallelujah” as the live band played. At one point everyone started “speaking in tongues”…it was quite the unique experience for to non-religious Obrunis – visiting a Ghanaian church for the first time. After worship, Pastor Smith took the stage. The subject of the sermon was “the luke-warm Christian” – ‘lukewarm is defined as a liquid that is not hot nor cold …thus it cannot be used for its purpose as it is unstable’. He then read a passage from the bible that neither me nor Shara have ever heard …something to the affect of “if you are luke-warm when you come to me I will spew you out”. It was an awfully pertinent subject for us given that Shara is half-Jewish, half-Christian and joked about getting baptized in Ghana just for the experience…and I won’t rehash my feelings about church. As a whole the service was very interesting, intelligent, well articulated and humorous – it was more or less a light-hearted but well directed wake up call to the parishioners as they gear up for their version of Ramadan (from July 1-July 31 they fast from 6am-6pm in the hopes that god will continue to bless them for the second half of the year).
This morning I was invited to the 28th Anniversary Remembrance Service for three assassinated High court Justices. Among the distinguished guests was the Madame Chief Justice of Ghana (more like the president of the judiciary, way more relative power than John Roberts) the Deputy Attorney General and several Supreme, Appellate and High Court Justices, as well as a who’s who of Ghanaian lawyers. The service, hosted by Ghana’s Bar Association, and conducted by The Very Rev. Father Andrew Campbell, commemorates the lives of 3 high court justices, slain by revolutionaries for freeing individuals unlawfully imprisoned by the short-lived John Rawlings revolutionary government. Father Campbell, an Irish ex-pat who has lived in Ghana for almost 40 years, was brilliant. He spoke about the importance of forgiveness – “revenge is human, but forgiveness is Divine”. It was the best Roman Catholic service I’ve been to since I last attended Father Michael’s service at the St. Francis church in Hoboken as a boy of 11 or so. By and large it was a pretty traditional service except when the collection plate came around. At that point the choir busted out the African music from their set list and drums emerged from the woodwork. The Madam Chief Justice then led the congregation in a dance. The service closed with Ghana’s national anthem, marking the first time I’ve had the privilege of hearing the lyrics sung aloud. My experience with Pastor Smith and more so with Father Campbell is that I actually really enjoy church services. Once you get past of the monotony of the rituals and the brainwashing overtones of guilt (not present at all in Father Campbell’s service) church is really enjoyable. Perhaps I will shop around when I get back to the US for a good place to visit when I start to lose sight of what’s important in life.
Last night was my second experience. Shara and I went to a Pentecostal service (at the International Central Gospel Church in Osu, Accra) with Olivia, a Ghanaian journalist and friend of our housemate Daan. When we arrived the congregation was in the midst of “worship” which is singing and dancing. We were lucky that they were teaching a new song so we could sing along. After a couple of minutes I closed my eyes and observed the goings on with my ears. There were random shouts of “praise the lord, lord have mercy, hallelujah” as the live band played. At one point everyone started “speaking in tongues”…it was quite the unique experience for to non-religious Obrunis – visiting a Ghanaian church for the first time. After worship, Pastor Smith took the stage. The subject of the sermon was “the luke-warm Christian” – ‘lukewarm is defined as a liquid that is not hot nor cold …thus it cannot be used for its purpose as it is unstable’. He then read a passage from the bible that neither me nor Shara have ever heard …something to the affect of “if you are luke-warm when you come to me I will spew you out”. It was an awfully pertinent subject for us given that Shara is half-Jewish, half-Christian and joked about getting baptized in Ghana just for the experience…and I won’t rehash my feelings about church. As a whole the service was very interesting, intelligent, well articulated and humorous – it was more or less a light-hearted but well directed wake up call to the parishioners as they gear up for their version of Ramadan (from July 1-July 31 they fast from 6am-6pm in the hopes that god will continue to bless them for the second half of the year).
This morning I was invited to the 28th Anniversary Remembrance Service for three assassinated High court Justices. Among the distinguished guests was the Madame Chief Justice of Ghana (more like the president of the judiciary, way more relative power than John Roberts) the Deputy Attorney General and several Supreme, Appellate and High Court Justices, as well as a who’s who of Ghanaian lawyers. The service, hosted by Ghana’s Bar Association, and conducted by The Very Rev. Father Andrew Campbell, commemorates the lives of 3 high court justices, slain by revolutionaries for freeing individuals unlawfully imprisoned by the short-lived John Rawlings revolutionary government. Father Campbell, an Irish ex-pat who has lived in Ghana for almost 40 years, was brilliant. He spoke about the importance of forgiveness – “revenge is human, but forgiveness is Divine”. It was the best Roman Catholic service I’ve been to since I last attended Father Michael’s service at the St. Francis church in Hoboken as a boy of 11 or so. By and large it was a pretty traditional service except when the collection plate came around. At that point the choir busted out the African music from their set list and drums emerged from the woodwork. The Madam Chief Justice then led the congregation in a dance. The service closed with Ghana’s national anthem, marking the first time I’ve had the privilege of hearing the lyrics sung aloud. My experience with Pastor Smith and more so with Father Campbell is that I actually really enjoy church services. Once you get past of the monotony of the rituals and the brainwashing overtones of guilt (not present at all in Father Campbell’s service) church is really enjoyable. Perhaps I will shop around when I get back to the US for a good place to visit when I start to lose sight of what’s important in life.
Monday, June 28, 2010
weekend of June 25th
We arrive at Big Milly’s guest house with enough time to actually enjoy our evening, bout 7. This place is markedly different from the big city just 45 minutes away. Very quiet, very peaceful. It would become the theme of the weekend. Raining; not many people around. We are greeted by a Ewe/French speaking security guard. Unfortunately between the 3 of us I speak the most French, which gets us no where. We eventually figure it out and get our “dorm rooms” – Actually an open air shack with beds, mosquito nets and trunks for your belongings. Actually pretty cool. We just missed a bbq so we had to get some jalloff rice next door. Not bad, not great. When we return people are playing drums. Tons of Obruni’s but lots of locals too. Toward the end of the evening Andrea’s friend of a friend, Komoyete, meets us. Andrea called him for the first time this summer just an hour or so before we arrived. We chatted with him for a bit and he told us to be ready by 6 so that he could show us around. If he weren’t so relaxed he’d be bursting from the seams with excitement. You can tell he really loves his village.
6am Saturday morning, Komoyete is true to his word. “He doesn’t run on African time he runs on Real time” exclaims Andrea. We jump in the cab and go to a seemingly random house. Trudge through a couple backyards and we’re starting to hit some forest. Komoyete gives tours for people who stay at the guest house on a regular basis. We’re privileged though because his and Andrea’s mutual friend. We get to see a lot more and pay a lot less (in fact we only paid to cost of renting a boat, he covered everything else). Everyone seems to know him. I can’t really get the story straight but he’s pretty high up. At first I thought he was the chief of the village, but I think he’s the heir. His Grandfather is the chief, but his father told us that Komoyete was the chosen one. At any rate Komoyete takes responsibility for the land, water and trees and animals . “this is my water, these are my trees…etc”. He’s a tree steward of the environment and does everything he can to preserve it. I almost lost it when he used the word biodiversity. For some reason I didn’t think it was a word that translated perfectly into Ghanaian English. He was absolutely right though. He had trees I had never seen before, tilapia that he fed so that they would continue to live in his water and eat the algae, bananas, mangos and papaya trees, monkeys, and all sorts of smaller plants. At some point we go to his house and meet his sister and nephew. This boys name is Ebenezer, but Komoyete calls him “Komoyete Jr.” I think he plans on raising him to appreciate nature as much as he does.
7:30 am Komoyete gives us some ‘fresh from the farm’ bananas and makes us some breakfast. While we wait, me, Shara and Andrea just chill outside and watch the trees. A couple times we see Monkeys kamikaze from larger trees to smaller trees. Somehow the branches support them every time. After breakfast we walk to the forest to see a spiritual place in the forest – a place where komoyete, his father, grandfather and some people from the village go for spiritual guidance. The route is a little covered with weeds in some parts and since we wore shorts Komoyete has to hack away a bit to make paths. Some how he doesn’t break a sweat despite his big winter hat (over his dreads) and his black Bob Marley t-shirt.
When we make it to the place we just sorta stand and silence for a bit. Andreas friend Karen said that her and Komoyete would just sit in silence for up to 4 hours just staring out into the world. Shara’s too chatty to let that happen though, which is a good thing because he actually has a lot to say. He tells us how people come to pray and leave sacrifices of alcohol for the spirits. Explains the empty bottles lying around. After some time we head back…stopping along the way for seemingly no reason but to collect our thoughts for up to 10 minutes at a time. One of Komoyete’s nephews makes us an herbal remedy to rub on our mosquito bites. I wish I had some now because as I write this my hands are itching like crazy.
About 10 am we set off for “africa”. It’s an island pretty close to Komoyete’s village. He calls it Africa because it’s more “natural” than other parts of Ghana, especially Accra. “Right now we are in America, I will take you to Africa”. We get a boat, which is manned by a young guy rowing with a gondola oar. Row about 10 minutes and then stop to grab some beans and rice. Row about 30 more minutes to a beachy area, the name of which I can’t remember. It’s definitely where rich tourists come as there is a way to fancy hotel there. We relax there for a bit and then get on the boat to head to “Africa”. Its about another half hour – an hour including all of the stops we take to look at the wild life on the trees. Some pretty sick snails and crabs that just live in the branches. We see amazing birds like hundreds of them at once. “this is not a documentary, this is real life” beams Komoyete with a huge grin. When we make it to Africa it’s a beachy area with grass huts. He brings us to his house on the island where one of his sister’s lives and has a bar. He makes up try akapateshi, a local spirit that Shara has wanted to try all summer. Not good at all. I’ve cleaned wounds with less potent stuff I’m certain.
We walk a bit through the village. So refreshing to be away from the smells of gasoline and the blaring of “obruni, obruni come and take a look”. No one is trying to sell you anything here. Then again they barely have anything to sell everyone on the Island gets whatever they need at about 7am from a boat that visits. During the week the kids have to walk about 30 minutes to catch a boat to school. Komoyete is working on getting a boat to and from school closer to the kid’s huts.
We take a less scenic route on the way back. Sorta good because we want to make it back for the match. When we arrive back at Big Millie’s we make it just in time to order dinner. My mood begins to change. Or rather, revert back to the how I felt Wednesday night after the matchup between the US and Ghana was announced. Fettered excitement with pending disappointment. Ghana strikes first. Everyone celebrates around me but I’m silent. At the end of the first half its 1-nil black stars. Second half…the United States dominates the opening minutes. I want them to score…be careful what you wish for. They get the equalizer on a Donavan penalty shot. Everyone is on the edge of their seats for the rest of the half. Both teams survive the rest of the half. It wasn’t enough for Ghana to play the US, the football gods had to drag it out an extra 30 minutes. About 5 minutes into extra time Ghana scores. I manage a slow clap but I’m not happy. When the final whistle blows everyone goes crazy around me. I’m devoid of joy. Never could I have imagined that I would be so affected by a football match. Someone drapes a Ghanaian flag around me at the bar. I’m patient. Eventually he gets the picture and takes it off of me. I couldn’t really get my mood up for the rest of the night but the regea concert infront of my dorm prevented me from calling it an early night. [Right now at work everyone’s busting my chops about the game. Nii (my officemate) was the most cordial about it but my favorite colleague, Osofu was relentless this morning. “Campbell, you forgot to sign the attendance book this morning because you were confused after Saturday’s match”. Followed by my boss , Ema and Didi coming in to offer “their sympathies”.]
Komoyete comes over to me at the bar and took me to the beach to show me a fish he caught. He takes me over to a little sand pit he made, splashes some water around and sure enough there was a pretty big tilapia on the beach. Apparently me and Drea just missed seeing a giant tortoise bury her eggs.
Later we meet some Britons on the beach. Solid guys. They’re all volunteering at an orphanage at a village in the north. Alex has been here for 4 months and Senior for 2. They invited me to play soccer with them and some kids the next day .
The following morning I rolled outta bed and onto the beach. Chilled there for a bit, grabbed breakfast and played some soccer. These little kids are incredible any one of them could easily start on a MLS team at 14 and could make a premiership team as an adult. The sad thing is they’ll never get recognized unless scouts come down to check them out. Maybe the Blackstar’s performance during this cup will open more eyes to the athletic talent of many of these young kids.
After soccer I start to miss home. Last week Osu (the neighborhood I work in) has been getting on my nerves. People constantly trying to sell me stuff and yelling U.S., U.S. at me. It didn’t really bug me before but it get’s old after a while. I love Ghana but sometimes I’d just like to escape for a couple hours… preferably to have some Pinnochio’s pizza with Terri in Harvard Square. I always get homesick though. Even when I went to France (for only 6 weeks) I was missing home about 4 weeks in. It’s just hard sticking out much…people constantly speaking a language you don’t understand. I know when it’s time to leave/when I get back to the US I’ll miss Ghana tons. But right now, if I were given the opportunity to roll my flight back a week or two I’d give it serious thought.
6am Saturday morning, Komoyete is true to his word. “He doesn’t run on African time he runs on Real time” exclaims Andrea. We jump in the cab and go to a seemingly random house. Trudge through a couple backyards and we’re starting to hit some forest. Komoyete gives tours for people who stay at the guest house on a regular basis. We’re privileged though because his and Andrea’s mutual friend. We get to see a lot more and pay a lot less (in fact we only paid to cost of renting a boat, he covered everything else). Everyone seems to know him. I can’t really get the story straight but he’s pretty high up. At first I thought he was the chief of the village, but I think he’s the heir. His Grandfather is the chief, but his father told us that Komoyete was the chosen one. At any rate Komoyete takes responsibility for the land, water and trees and animals . “this is my water, these are my trees…etc”. He’s a tree steward of the environment and does everything he can to preserve it. I almost lost it when he used the word biodiversity. For some reason I didn’t think it was a word that translated perfectly into Ghanaian English. He was absolutely right though. He had trees I had never seen before, tilapia that he fed so that they would continue to live in his water and eat the algae, bananas, mangos and papaya trees, monkeys, and all sorts of smaller plants. At some point we go to his house and meet his sister and nephew. This boys name is Ebenezer, but Komoyete calls him “Komoyete Jr.” I think he plans on raising him to appreciate nature as much as he does.
7:30 am Komoyete gives us some ‘fresh from the farm’ bananas and makes us some breakfast. While we wait, me, Shara and Andrea just chill outside and watch the trees. A couple times we see Monkeys kamikaze from larger trees to smaller trees. Somehow the branches support them every time. After breakfast we walk to the forest to see a spiritual place in the forest – a place where komoyete, his father, grandfather and some people from the village go for spiritual guidance. The route is a little covered with weeds in some parts and since we wore shorts Komoyete has to hack away a bit to make paths. Some how he doesn’t break a sweat despite his big winter hat (over his dreads) and his black Bob Marley t-shirt.
When we make it to the place we just sorta stand and silence for a bit. Andreas friend Karen said that her and Komoyete would just sit in silence for up to 4 hours just staring out into the world. Shara’s too chatty to let that happen though, which is a good thing because he actually has a lot to say. He tells us how people come to pray and leave sacrifices of alcohol for the spirits. Explains the empty bottles lying around. After some time we head back…stopping along the way for seemingly no reason but to collect our thoughts for up to 10 minutes at a time. One of Komoyete’s nephews makes us an herbal remedy to rub on our mosquito bites. I wish I had some now because as I write this my hands are itching like crazy.
About 10 am we set off for “africa”. It’s an island pretty close to Komoyete’s village. He calls it Africa because it’s more “natural” than other parts of Ghana, especially Accra. “Right now we are in America, I will take you to Africa”. We get a boat, which is manned by a young guy rowing with a gondola oar. Row about 10 minutes and then stop to grab some beans and rice. Row about 30 more minutes to a beachy area, the name of which I can’t remember. It’s definitely where rich tourists come as there is a way to fancy hotel there. We relax there for a bit and then get on the boat to head to “Africa”. Its about another half hour – an hour including all of the stops we take to look at the wild life on the trees. Some pretty sick snails and crabs that just live in the branches. We see amazing birds like hundreds of them at once. “this is not a documentary, this is real life” beams Komoyete with a huge grin. When we make it to Africa it’s a beachy area with grass huts. He brings us to his house on the island where one of his sister’s lives and has a bar. He makes up try akapateshi, a local spirit that Shara has wanted to try all summer. Not good at all. I’ve cleaned wounds with less potent stuff I’m certain.
We walk a bit through the village. So refreshing to be away from the smells of gasoline and the blaring of “obruni, obruni come and take a look”. No one is trying to sell you anything here. Then again they barely have anything to sell everyone on the Island gets whatever they need at about 7am from a boat that visits. During the week the kids have to walk about 30 minutes to catch a boat to school. Komoyete is working on getting a boat to and from school closer to the kid’s huts.
We take a less scenic route on the way back. Sorta good because we want to make it back for the match. When we arrive back at Big Millie’s we make it just in time to order dinner. My mood begins to change. Or rather, revert back to the how I felt Wednesday night after the matchup between the US and Ghana was announced. Fettered excitement with pending disappointment. Ghana strikes first. Everyone celebrates around me but I’m silent. At the end of the first half its 1-nil black stars. Second half…the United States dominates the opening minutes. I want them to score…be careful what you wish for. They get the equalizer on a Donavan penalty shot. Everyone is on the edge of their seats for the rest of the half. Both teams survive the rest of the half. It wasn’t enough for Ghana to play the US, the football gods had to drag it out an extra 30 minutes. About 5 minutes into extra time Ghana scores. I manage a slow clap but I’m not happy. When the final whistle blows everyone goes crazy around me. I’m devoid of joy. Never could I have imagined that I would be so affected by a football match. Someone drapes a Ghanaian flag around me at the bar. I’m patient. Eventually he gets the picture and takes it off of me. I couldn’t really get my mood up for the rest of the night but the regea concert infront of my dorm prevented me from calling it an early night. [Right now at work everyone’s busting my chops about the game. Nii (my officemate) was the most cordial about it but my favorite colleague, Osofu was relentless this morning. “Campbell, you forgot to sign the attendance book this morning because you were confused after Saturday’s match”. Followed by my boss , Ema and Didi coming in to offer “their sympathies”.]
Komoyete comes over to me at the bar and took me to the beach to show me a fish he caught. He takes me over to a little sand pit he made, splashes some water around and sure enough there was a pretty big tilapia on the beach. Apparently me and Drea just missed seeing a giant tortoise bury her eggs.
Later we meet some Britons on the beach. Solid guys. They’re all volunteering at an orphanage at a village in the north. Alex has been here for 4 months and Senior for 2. They invited me to play soccer with them and some kids the next day .
The following morning I rolled outta bed and onto the beach. Chilled there for a bit, grabbed breakfast and played some soccer. These little kids are incredible any one of them could easily start on a MLS team at 14 and could make a premiership team as an adult. The sad thing is they’ll never get recognized unless scouts come down to check them out. Maybe the Blackstar’s performance during this cup will open more eyes to the athletic talent of many of these young kids.
After soccer I start to miss home. Last week Osu (the neighborhood I work in) has been getting on my nerves. People constantly trying to sell me stuff and yelling U.S., U.S. at me. It didn’t really bug me before but it get’s old after a while. I love Ghana but sometimes I’d just like to escape for a couple hours… preferably to have some Pinnochio’s pizza with Terri in Harvard Square. I always get homesick though. Even when I went to France (for only 6 weeks) I was missing home about 4 weeks in. It’s just hard sticking out much…people constantly speaking a language you don’t understand. I know when it’s time to leave/when I get back to the US I’ll miss Ghana tons. But right now, if I were given the opportunity to roll my flight back a week or two I’d give it serious thought.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Weekend of June 18th
Amazing weekend. Hiked two mountains, swam under a water fall, danced it a traditional village festival and met some of the warmest people I've yet to encounter in Ghana.
As last weekend, the journey begins with a mad dash to find the correct tro-tro to our destination. I had an easier time finding the place on my own because I knew the name of the station and grabbed a cab from the barber shop ($1.40 for a haircut btw). There was a minor concern that we wouldn't be able to find our new friend, Jackye because we told her the station across the street and she retained her American phone number (global blackberry) but that notion was soon dispelled when me and Shara found her being led to us by a couple of Ghanians in our direction. Sometimes it really helps being the only Obrunis in an area because it is so easy to find each other. Indeed, while waiting for Andrea a random person declared to me “I think I see your sister up the Junction”, sure enough it was her. When we well all rounded up we set off for our 5 hour trip (2 hours of it was traffic in Accra). By the time we got to Hohea (spelling) we only had time to get to a guest house and knock out for a few hours before our hike.
At 5:30 am we headed to the mountain. Although the lovely owner of the guest house offered to make us breakfast, we didn't have time to wait for her to round up all of the ingredients.(side note: whenever you go to a restaurant to get a meal that is cooked to order, more likely than not someone from the shop has to go to a local market, round up all of the perishable ingredients, and cook everything from scratch. It makes for very fresh but very slow meals.) Instead we opted to buy some fresh bread near the tro-tro station, which was legit the best bread we've had here. For a 30 cents each (I kid you not), we each got a fresh loaf of bread, a bag of shelled peanuts and a piece of this little fried dough thing that tasted like KFC (from what I remember from like 6 years ago). Keep in mind that everything we eat in Ghana, for the most part, is organic. I eat caged free eggs almost every day with organic bread and fruit. The meal we had in Hoea in Whole Foods (or it's progeny) would have been at least $10, and probably not as good.
Mount Afijato is about 900 meteres, straight up. It was basically a vertical staircase in the rainforest with well placed rocks as steps. I was pretty happy that I'm still in shape from the end of last semester and that I wasn't out of breath. But poor Daan, all 4 feet of her, decided to wear jeans and was more than understandably having a hard time keeping up (and in retrospect I feel pretty bad for setting such a fast pace :-/). No matter, it gave us more time to enjoy the scenery on our way up the an amazing view of the volta river . Let me take this opportunity to say, sorry guys. You'll get these pictures when ya get 'em because it took me forever to upload one picture the other day. I'll see if I can email some to Terri for her to post.
When we got down we played the inevitable waiting game for a cab to the water fall. Eventually we made it over to the Entrance of Wili falls, but not before Shara asked a two random women if she can help them make fufu (a tamale like thing made from mashed maize). If she didn't know already, Shara came to find that this is strenuous business. First of all the stick they used was pretty damn heavy, Secondly, they make this dish is like playing music. They take a giant bowl with all of the ingredients. Then one woman moves the giant pieces of vegetable around while the other smashes this giant stick down with all of her might. One false move would certainly break a hand, but I think the teamwork is really illustrative of how much more collectivist the Ghanian culture is compared to the West. At the falls, our tour guide led us through a brisk 40 minute walk to the falls. After hot/sweaty day of walking/climbing there was nothing left to do but jump in the water. Me, Daan , Shara and Andrea made it pretty much right under the falls and Jackye (who wasn't interested in jumping in) got some amazing pictures that you'll just have to wait for :P. We pretty much ran back from there so we can make it back to the guest house to watch the Black Stars take on Australia. Of course not without an absurd transportation situation where we squeezed 8 people in the car, and one in the trunk...
There was a chop-shop right across the street from our place and we had some much deserved beers with some locals and waited the inevitable 90 minutes for lunch. The Draw that Ghana managed didn't evoke the insane celebration of the week before, but the result was good enough to set up a pivotal match against Germany on Wednesday, with Ghana controlling their own destiny (win or draw and we're in :) .
We went to town, of course the first tro-tro broke down and we squished 5 people into like 1 and a half seats.
When we got to Have' we were greeted by Pedro (who had some battle wounds from his village fishing expedition), Grandpa (they are big with the cool grandparents here) and Justice (yeah that's his real name). Both were extremely welcoming. Grandpa actually spent some time in the US, I believe he said working for the FAA …
Diego and Conrad followed soon there after with some of Pedro's work colleagues. Incidentally one of them was a high-school mate of Terri's. We all chipped in a buck to get some ingredients for jalloff rice, and Conrad whipped up a delicious batch. After a glass of a traditional welcoming drink (Guinness and palm wine cocktail...I don't recommend it) we headed to the dance festival. I really can't describe how awesome it was...but basically Google BorBorBor when you get a chance. Everyone gathered in this small area while a dance troupe performed in the middle. Then if you wanted to join the dancing circle you just made your way in (or if you're obviously not Ghanian one of the women will pull you in).
The next morning there was more celebrating of Agadavi. Every year the people of Have' commemorate the day when a huge mudslide (they say volcanic eruption but I think what happened was closer to a mud slide) occurred near town and no one was hurt “not even an animal”. Shara of course wanted to climb a second mountain and get up wicked early on the one day we have to sleep in :-/. So we met up with Diego and Justice, got Ginormous egg sandwiches for $1 and hiked the mountain. It was a great time but unfortunately the path to the top was covered in fallen brush so we couldn't make it all the way up.
When we got back people had arrived at the festival and they were collected money for a new community center. The place we stayed in was definitely not touristy or rich by any means. But they managed to raise about $4,000 US dollars which is an astronomical amount. There was some more dancing but we had to leave to get lunch started. We took all of the Talapia and some ingredients to the bar we went to the night before and the owner grilled up for those who ate fish.
Me and all of my housemates loved Have (“the town with no internet”). If there is a weekend where we do something twice it would probably be visiting that area again. Pedro's colleagues didn't like it so much and kind of complained that it was “removed from civilization”. You can't please everyone I guess. This weekend we're taking a break from traveling so far away. We're staying at a beach house called cocobrite (about 45 minutes outside of Accra) where Andrea knows a tribal chief. Needless to say it's gonna be another great weekend.
As last weekend, the journey begins with a mad dash to find the correct tro-tro to our destination. I had an easier time finding the place on my own because I knew the name of the station and grabbed a cab from the barber shop ($1.40 for a haircut btw). There was a minor concern that we wouldn't be able to find our new friend, Jackye because we told her the station across the street and she retained her American phone number (global blackberry) but that notion was soon dispelled when me and Shara found her being led to us by a couple of Ghanians in our direction. Sometimes it really helps being the only Obrunis in an area because it is so easy to find each other. Indeed, while waiting for Andrea a random person declared to me “I think I see your sister up the Junction”, sure enough it was her. When we well all rounded up we set off for our 5 hour trip (2 hours of it was traffic in Accra). By the time we got to Hohea (spelling) we only had time to get to a guest house and knock out for a few hours before our hike.
At 5:30 am we headed to the mountain. Although the lovely owner of the guest house offered to make us breakfast, we didn't have time to wait for her to round up all of the ingredients.(side note: whenever you go to a restaurant to get a meal that is cooked to order, more likely than not someone from the shop has to go to a local market, round up all of the perishable ingredients, and cook everything from scratch. It makes for very fresh but very slow meals.) Instead we opted to buy some fresh bread near the tro-tro station, which was legit the best bread we've had here. For a 30 cents each (I kid you not), we each got a fresh loaf of bread, a bag of shelled peanuts and a piece of this little fried dough thing that tasted like KFC (from what I remember from like 6 years ago). Keep in mind that everything we eat in Ghana, for the most part, is organic. I eat caged free eggs almost every day with organic bread and fruit. The meal we had in Hoea in Whole Foods (or it's progeny) would have been at least $10, and probably not as good.
Mount Afijato is about 900 meteres, straight up. It was basically a vertical staircase in the rainforest with well placed rocks as steps. I was pretty happy that I'm still in shape from the end of last semester and that I wasn't out of breath. But poor Daan, all 4 feet of her, decided to wear jeans and was more than understandably having a hard time keeping up (and in retrospect I feel pretty bad for setting such a fast pace :-/). No matter, it gave us more time to enjoy the scenery on our way up the an amazing view of the volta river . Let me take this opportunity to say, sorry guys. You'll get these pictures when ya get 'em because it took me forever to upload one picture the other day. I'll see if I can email some to Terri for her to post.
When we got down we played the inevitable waiting game for a cab to the water fall. Eventually we made it over to the Entrance of Wili falls, but not before Shara asked a two random women if she can help them make fufu (a tamale like thing made from mashed maize). If she didn't know already, Shara came to find that this is strenuous business. First of all the stick they used was pretty damn heavy, Secondly, they make this dish is like playing music. They take a giant bowl with all of the ingredients. Then one woman moves the giant pieces of vegetable around while the other smashes this giant stick down with all of her might. One false move would certainly break a hand, but I think the teamwork is really illustrative of how much more collectivist the Ghanian culture is compared to the West. At the falls, our tour guide led us through a brisk 40 minute walk to the falls. After hot/sweaty day of walking/climbing there was nothing left to do but jump in the water. Me, Daan , Shara and Andrea made it pretty much right under the falls and Jackye (who wasn't interested in jumping in) got some amazing pictures that you'll just have to wait for :P. We pretty much ran back from there so we can make it back to the guest house to watch the Black Stars take on Australia. Of course not without an absurd transportation situation where we squeezed 8 people in the car, and one in the trunk...
There was a chop-shop right across the street from our place and we had some much deserved beers with some locals and waited the inevitable 90 minutes for lunch. The Draw that Ghana managed didn't evoke the insane celebration of the week before, but the result was good enough to set up a pivotal match against Germany on Wednesday, with Ghana controlling their own destiny (win or draw and we're in :) .
We went to town, of course the first tro-tro broke down and we squished 5 people into like 1 and a half seats.
When we got to Have' we were greeted by Pedro (who had some battle wounds from his village fishing expedition), Grandpa (they are big with the cool grandparents here) and Justice (yeah that's his real name). Both were extremely welcoming. Grandpa actually spent some time in the US, I believe he said working for the FAA …
Diego and Conrad followed soon there after with some of Pedro's work colleagues. Incidentally one of them was a high-school mate of Terri's. We all chipped in a buck to get some ingredients for jalloff rice, and Conrad whipped up a delicious batch. After a glass of a traditional welcoming drink (Guinness and palm wine cocktail...I don't recommend it) we headed to the dance festival. I really can't describe how awesome it was...but basically Google BorBorBor when you get a chance. Everyone gathered in this small area while a dance troupe performed in the middle. Then if you wanted to join the dancing circle you just made your way in (or if you're obviously not Ghanian one of the women will pull you in).
The next morning there was more celebrating of Agadavi. Every year the people of Have' commemorate the day when a huge mudslide (they say volcanic eruption but I think what happened was closer to a mud slide) occurred near town and no one was hurt “not even an animal”. Shara of course wanted to climb a second mountain and get up wicked early on the one day we have to sleep in :-/. So we met up with Diego and Justice, got Ginormous egg sandwiches for $1 and hiked the mountain. It was a great time but unfortunately the path to the top was covered in fallen brush so we couldn't make it all the way up.
When we got back people had arrived at the festival and they were collected money for a new community center. The place we stayed in was definitely not touristy or rich by any means. But they managed to raise about $4,000 US dollars which is an astronomical amount. There was some more dancing but we had to leave to get lunch started. We took all of the Talapia and some ingredients to the bar we went to the night before and the owner grilled up for those who ate fish.
Me and all of my housemates loved Have (“the town with no internet”). If there is a weekend where we do something twice it would probably be visiting that area again. Pedro's colleagues didn't like it so much and kind of complained that it was “removed from civilization”. You can't please everyone I guess. This weekend we're taking a break from traveling so far away. We're staying at a beach house called cocobrite (about 45 minutes outside of Accra) where Andrea knows a tribal chief. Needless to say it's gonna be another great weekend.
June 24th -- Black Stars/ USA advance
Thanks to some last minute heroics from Landon Donavon, Josie Altadore and a caravan of red, white and blue charging toward the goal in the 92nd minute, the US is advancing to the round of 16. I got to witness the brillance at Epos Sport when I snuck over across the street. There I met up with Evans, a local kid that showed me how to get to my bus stop after my first day of work. He really wants to go to the United States to coach soccer (he walks with a limp so I assume that's why he has jumped right to coaching) but visas to the US are nearly impossible to get for young Ghanaians. He had a huge american flag draped around his back when I walked in and was pouring his heart in soul into urging our guys on. When we pulled off the game winning goal he exclaimed "oh I'm so excited, I think I almost cried!"
After the US match I came back and threw on my Ghana Jersey, some new Ghana shorts that my boss bought for me and my wrist and captain's band and left work early. Everyone always shouts "ay Stephen Apiah" at me when I wear my Black Stars Gear, I'm guessing because we both have shaved heads because my jersey doesn't have a name on the back. I picked up my house mates near my bus stop (minus Daan b/c it was "too hot") and we came back to Epos. We met up with Evans again and of course there were an insane amount of people in epos, but Evans saved us seats in the first row. The game was hard fought, and although the Black Stars lost 1-nil , we got a little help from Australia (who defeated Serbia) to make it into the round of 16. That's the good news. The most unfortunate world cup news for me, Drea and Evans is that because Ghana did not win their group (by losing to Germany) and the US won their group (by scoring more goals than England, even though they both have 1 win and 2 ties) the US and Ghana will now face off this Saturday at 2:30 pm eastern time. Drea and I are really torn up about it .
Firstly we both grew up supporting US soccer. As a soccer player in the US you are constantly told that your sport isn't tough enough, real or what have you. You're pushed around by the Football coach for use of the school's facilities, and that same coach will try to steal the best players on your team to be a kicker. Drea is also from Kearny, NJ which is soccer town, USA.
However we are now full supporters of the Black Stars. For all of the strife that Ghanians face everyday some how the one thing that will always put a smile on their faces is a proud performance by their men in red, green and yellow. We've both said that we won't watch the game and support who ever moves on to the round of 8. I bet Shara will make us watch it though. She thinks we're being selfish for even questioning who to root for during this game because Americans will soon forget this world cup squad if we in it all but Ghana would never forget the 2010 Black Stars should they even make it to the 1/4 final. Deep down I know she's right but I still can't bring myself to root against the USA.
So this weekend, I will not be not busting out the American flag shutter shades and I'm leaving my black stars jersey at home. Somebody let me know when it's over.
After the US match I came back and threw on my Ghana Jersey, some new Ghana shorts that my boss bought for me and my wrist and captain's band and left work early. Everyone always shouts "ay Stephen Apiah" at me when I wear my Black Stars Gear, I'm guessing because we both have shaved heads because my jersey doesn't have a name on the back. I picked up my house mates near my bus stop (minus Daan b/c it was "too hot") and we came back to Epos. We met up with Evans again and of course there were an insane amount of people in epos, but Evans saved us seats in the first row. The game was hard fought, and although the Black Stars lost 1-nil , we got a little help from Australia (who defeated Serbia) to make it into the round of 16. That's the good news. The most unfortunate world cup news for me, Drea and Evans is that because Ghana did not win their group (by losing to Germany) and the US won their group (by scoring more goals than England, even though they both have 1 win and 2 ties) the US and Ghana will now face off this Saturday at 2:30 pm eastern time. Drea and I are really torn up about it .
Firstly we both grew up supporting US soccer. As a soccer player in the US you are constantly told that your sport isn't tough enough, real or what have you. You're pushed around by the Football coach for use of the school's facilities, and that same coach will try to steal the best players on your team to be a kicker. Drea is also from Kearny, NJ which is soccer town, USA.
However we are now full supporters of the Black Stars. For all of the strife that Ghanians face everyday some how the one thing that will always put a smile on their faces is a proud performance by their men in red, green and yellow. We've both said that we won't watch the game and support who ever moves on to the round of 8. I bet Shara will make us watch it though. She thinks we're being selfish for even questioning who to root for during this game because Americans will soon forget this world cup squad if we in it all but Ghana would never forget the 2010 Black Stars should they even make it to the 1/4 final. Deep down I know she's right but I still can't bring myself to root against the USA.
So this weekend, I will not be not busting out the American flag shutter shades and I'm leaving my black stars jersey at home. Somebody let me know when it's over.
Monday, June 21, 2010
June 21st
Awesome weekend. I'll post about it in the coming days. Highlights include : hiking two mountains, swimming under a water fall and dancing in an African Festival.
Friday, June 18, 2010
June 18th
Today marks two weeks that I've been here.I was naive enough to believe I would be immune to culture shock but after the first couple of days I didn't know if I made the right choice coming here. There's nothing wrong with the people, the food or even the bucket showers. But it took a bit to get used to the transportation system, the lack of urgency to get somewhere on time and even the contradictions of the court system (super formal yet wicked disorganized). I'm happy to say that I'm definitely getting into the swing of things. There's nothing like catching your tro tro just before it leaves, wind in your face as the mate jumps into the moving vehicle and slams the door. You can sit back and relax because you know you're gonna be on it for a while and if you need a snack, drink, ironing board (ok exaggerating a little), no worries because as soon as you hit the inevitable traffic you will be bombarded with a traveling shopping mall with a plethora of goodies. I got 8 weeks to go and something tells me they're gonna fly.
Don't forget to watch the US take on Slovenia today at 10am eastern time. And the Black Stars face Australia at Noon eastern and Saturday !
Don't forget to watch the US take on Slovenia today at 10am eastern time. And the Black Stars face Australia at Noon eastern and Saturday !
Thursday, June 17, 2010
June 17th
Hey Y'all,
Busy week work wise. Shara and Drea came to Osu to watch the game South Africa game last nite. Shara really wanted to check out this ex-pat bar called "Ryan's pub" that was in her guide book so we went there. Wouldn't recommend it. It's the kinda place that Westerners go to avoid the locals. I'm trying to upload pics but with Ghana internet its taking forever. I'm creating a google web album to make it easier to upload and I'll post the address to it when i get it done. The 5 of us (Grandma's volunteers) + a new American volunteer are gong to the village of Hoi to hike the tallest mountain in west Africa (not really that big 2.5 hours up?) and check out a village festival.
Busy week work wise. Shara and Drea came to Osu to watch the game South Africa game last nite. Shara really wanted to check out this ex-pat bar called "Ryan's pub" that was in her guide book so we went there. Wouldn't recommend it. It's the kinda place that Westerners go to avoid the locals. I'm trying to upload pics but with Ghana internet its taking forever. I'm creating a google web album to make it easier to upload and I'll post the address to it when i get it done. The 5 of us (Grandma's volunteers) + a new American volunteer are gong to the village of Hoi to hike the tallest mountain in west Africa (not really that big 2.5 hours up?) and check out a village festival.
Back logged posts
June 13th
On Friday I got my first substantial work assignment from the lead Partner of the firm I'm interning with. I don't think it's really appropriate to talk much about it on here (if my law school nerds want to talk about it I can tell you as much as I'm allowed).
As for the weekend, the adventure for me, Shara (henceforth Eliza Thornberry) and Drea started as soon as we got to Nkurma circle to catch the bus (aka a TroTro with a little extra room, and air conditioning) . When we heard that we had to go to Keneshi station (a short work from the circle) we think “oh yeah no problem”...but nothings ever that easy in Accra. The first challenge was finding the “station”. We asked the owners of a bunch of different new stands and they pointed us in some general direction but never really helped us more than that. When we finally found the damn thing it turned out to be a giant parking lot filled with tro tros. None of them were clearly labeled so you had to ask the all of the drivers for the one you want. With a little luck we finally found it and were able to get on shortly before we left.
After the 3 hour ride (with traffic) we checked into our hostel where I encountered the first forigen people (outside of the ones that I live with) all week. The 3 of us had a pretty chill night on the roof of the hotel and prepared for our long Saturday
The next morning we set out to see Cape Coast Castle. As I alluded to in my mini post on Friday, the castle served as a slave trading center. I've read about all of the atrocities of the slave trade in several works books and biographies, so I all I can do as our tour guide led us through was shake my head. Many of the Ghanian's made loud exclamations of anger and I couldn't help but wonder if they blocked out the history of the slave trade in their minds? Do they even bother to teach it in school? Or was it just that time doesn't heal all wounds?
One of the Ghanian castle visitors approached me as we walked around, declaring “ I think you are Ghanaian”. Confused I told him shyly that I was American but he retorted “oh no, no, you may live in America but I feel that your heritage is Ghanian”. That's all together possible. This gentleman was the first of many Cape Coasters to advise me to further explore my African heritage, no matter how distant in time. Even young Ghanian men that we hung out with after watching the USA game implored me to explore as much of Ghana as I can while I'm here.
After the castle we went the kakoom national park. It is home to leopards, elephants, snakes, rare butterflies, monkeys, all types of strange ruffage and much more. However during the day many of the animals are afraid to strut their stuff so we were (resided) to simply the trees. What better way to enjoy them though than from above? Here's where the scariest time of my trip so far came. Most people who know me are probably away that me and heights aren't exactly best friends forever. At the suggestion of Elyse and the chiding of Eliza Thornberry and Andrea I had no choice but to face my fears and partake in the “canopy walk” which is basically a series of 7 narrow , shaky bridges, surrounded by flimsy nets, in between trees about 40 meters high. Although my fears were faced, they certainly weren't conqured because I probrably wouldn't do it a second time.
Later we went to Hans cottage, where Eliza Thornberry (note: this is a Nickelodeon cartoon reference for those who don't get it. She's an explorer who lives in Africa with her parents and talks to animals) was souped to touch some crocodiles. Though we saw one, we didn't get close enough to touch it and instead opted to swim in the hotel pool and eat a snack of plantain chips, rather than swimming with the crocs and becoming a snack for them.
That night we watched the USA battle England to a draw at the Oasis hotel. It was a pretty chill beach side spot, costing all of $7 a night per person. Here we met some local dudes who were putting on a street show later that night (I'll post those pictures tomorrow). The star of the show was Xman. Despite his name he was a pretty down to earth dude and was one of the biggest advocates of me getting to know as much of my heritage as I can. Another guy I met, nicked named “Fish” is a chef at a healthfood/breakfast spot we tried to go that morning, but was closed. (There was a surpising number of vegetarian reasturants in cape coast, including bobab tree which Elyse recommended to me. Unfortantley the oweners chef hadn't shown up for work yet :-/ )
Surprisingly the highlight of the weekend wasn't our excursion to cape coast, but rather Ghana's first match of the 2010 World Cup against Serbia. We all donned our Black Stars Jerseys, painted our faces and went to Eso's pub, a sports bar across the street from my law firm. The girls were amazed by how developed the neighborhood of Osu was compared to the neighborhood we live in, a fact I suppose I took for granted. The atmosphere during the match was like none I ever experienced in any sporting event, live or on Television. Red, Green and Gold the bar and the volume was defeaning, from the vuvuzelas (South African Trumpets) , to chants and songs. When Ghana finally scored their first goal in the 80' or so minute, the owner had to run out from behind the bar to warn us that if we jumped and celebrated too hard, the deck we were watching the game on might collapse. After the match, jubilation sweept the streets of Accra ...
June 9th
Court was much the same song and dance as my first day. I did get to see a whole hearing from start to finish regarding an estate issue but that's kinda dull for my non-law school readers. The most interesting part of my day was my trip home. I was planning on meeting my friends at “labadi beach” for “reggea night”. I set out for the “tro tro” and I was fine until all of a sudden the thing starts smoking (not enough water on the engine). So then I catch another one that went to “labadi” but wasn't close enough to the beach for me to walk. Luckily a kind teenager named Agnes walked me all the way to the stop to get one that would put me right out front (and she even talked to me while I waited and made sure I got on the right one this time! If you haven't figured it out by now, I'd be screwed without the kindness of strangers so if you come across a foreinger who seems to talk funny and can't seem to figure out how to get exactly where he needs to get, try helping a brother out if you can.
Well I get to labadi beach but it starts pouring. If you thought getting around was hard in the hot sun, the rain is impossible. I wish I can say I ducked in to some small chop shop and chatted the locals about the Black Stars chances against Serbia this Sunday but I can't. The only thing around was the “labadi beach hotel”, a high-end joint for foreigners doing “Africa Lite”, so I escaped there for a bit. After dark, I set out to try my chances with the tro tro. I took off my shirt to add a layer of protection for my netbook and sought cover under a small bus shelter. Hours past and I felt like I could still see the same cars not too far in the distance, and every tro-tro and taxi that past was not accepting customers. I knew then it would be impossible to get home without a little luck. Again luck twice in the form of a teenage Ghanian girl who shouted out from a newish volkswagen “hey you, where are you going”. I took a few seconds to check my gut, and it told me this was the only way I was getting home. I told her first junction and she waved me over. There a found a father, the girl and two other kids. So was less than a week in Ghana and I've already been in a car accident and I've hitchhiked. After about an hour and a half in traffic we made it to first junction and from there I grabbed a “shared taxi” to my street. I'll never complain about the Metro again.
Today I met the lead partner of my firm for the first time. Everyone has spoken so highly of him all week and I can see why. He's extremly sharp and eloquent, and has a good sense of humor. He wants me to brief him on my first week in the office tomorrow so he can figure out how to use me better for my remaining time here.
This weekend Shara, Andrea and I are going to “Cape coast”. It's most famous for being a hub for slave trading (possible that my ancestors once past through there”. We're going to see the castles (as Elyse suggested) the national park, and possible take in Ghana's world cup match at a local bar. I hope to have some great pictures to finally share!
On Friday I got my first substantial work assignment from the lead Partner of the firm I'm interning with. I don't think it's really appropriate to talk much about it on here (if my law school nerds want to talk about it I can tell you as much as I'm allowed).
As for the weekend, the adventure for me, Shara (henceforth Eliza Thornberry) and Drea started as soon as we got to Nkurma circle to catch the bus (aka a TroTro with a little extra room, and air conditioning) . When we heard that we had to go to Keneshi station (a short work from the circle) we think “oh yeah no problem”...but nothings ever that easy in Accra. The first challenge was finding the “station”. We asked the owners of a bunch of different new stands and they pointed us in some general direction but never really helped us more than that. When we finally found the damn thing it turned out to be a giant parking lot filled with tro tros. None of them were clearly labeled so you had to ask the all of the drivers for the one you want. With a little luck we finally found it and were able to get on shortly before we left.
After the 3 hour ride (with traffic) we checked into our hostel where I encountered the first forigen people (outside of the ones that I live with) all week. The 3 of us had a pretty chill night on the roof of the hotel and prepared for our long Saturday
The next morning we set out to see Cape Coast Castle. As I alluded to in my mini post on Friday, the castle served as a slave trading center. I've read about all of the atrocities of the slave trade in several works books and biographies, so I all I can do as our tour guide led us through was shake my head. Many of the Ghanian's made loud exclamations of anger and I couldn't help but wonder if they blocked out the history of the slave trade in their minds? Do they even bother to teach it in school? Or was it just that time doesn't heal all wounds?
One of the Ghanian castle visitors approached me as we walked around, declaring “ I think you are Ghanaian”. Confused I told him shyly that I was American but he retorted “oh no, no, you may live in America but I feel that your heritage is Ghanian”. That's all together possible. This gentleman was the first of many Cape Coasters to advise me to further explore my African heritage, no matter how distant in time. Even young Ghanian men that we hung out with after watching the USA game implored me to explore as much of Ghana as I can while I'm here.
After the castle we went the kakoom national park. It is home to leopards, elephants, snakes, rare butterflies, monkeys, all types of strange ruffage and much more. However during the day many of the animals are afraid to strut their stuff so we were (resided) to simply the trees. What better way to enjoy them though than from above? Here's where the scariest time of my trip so far came. Most people who know me are probably away that me and heights aren't exactly best friends forever. At the suggestion of Elyse and the chiding of Eliza Thornberry and Andrea I had no choice but to face my fears and partake in the “canopy walk” which is basically a series of 7 narrow , shaky bridges, surrounded by flimsy nets, in between trees about 40 meters high. Although my fears were faced, they certainly weren't conqured because I probrably wouldn't do it a second time.
Later we went to Hans cottage, where Eliza Thornberry (note: this is a Nickelodeon cartoon reference for those who don't get it. She's an explorer who lives in Africa with her parents and talks to animals) was souped to touch some crocodiles. Though we saw one, we didn't get close enough to touch it and instead opted to swim in the hotel pool and eat a snack of plantain chips, rather than swimming with the crocs and becoming a snack for them.
That night we watched the USA battle England to a draw at the Oasis hotel. It was a pretty chill beach side spot, costing all of $7 a night per person. Here we met some local dudes who were putting on a street show later that night (I'll post those pictures tomorrow). The star of the show was Xman. Despite his name he was a pretty down to earth dude and was one of the biggest advocates of me getting to know as much of my heritage as I can. Another guy I met, nicked named “Fish” is a chef at a healthfood/breakfast spot we tried to go that morning, but was closed. (There was a surpising number of vegetarian reasturants in cape coast, including bobab tree which Elyse recommended to me. Unfortantley the oweners chef hadn't shown up for work yet :-/ )
Surprisingly the highlight of the weekend wasn't our excursion to cape coast, but rather Ghana's first match of the 2010 World Cup against Serbia. We all donned our Black Stars Jerseys, painted our faces and went to Eso's pub, a sports bar across the street from my law firm. The girls were amazed by how developed the neighborhood of Osu was compared to the neighborhood we live in, a fact I suppose I took for granted. The atmosphere during the match was like none I ever experienced in any sporting event, live or on Television. Red, Green and Gold the bar and the volume was defeaning, from the vuvuzelas (South African Trumpets) , to chants and songs. When Ghana finally scored their first goal in the 80' or so minute, the owner had to run out from behind the bar to warn us that if we jumped and celebrated too hard, the deck we were watching the game on might collapse. After the match, jubilation sweept the streets of Accra ...
June 9th
Court was much the same song and dance as my first day. I did get to see a whole hearing from start to finish regarding an estate issue but that's kinda dull for my non-law school readers. The most interesting part of my day was my trip home. I was planning on meeting my friends at “labadi beach” for “reggea night”. I set out for the “tro tro” and I was fine until all of a sudden the thing starts smoking (not enough water on the engine). So then I catch another one that went to “labadi” but wasn't close enough to the beach for me to walk. Luckily a kind teenager named Agnes walked me all the way to the stop to get one that would put me right out front (and she even talked to me while I waited and made sure I got on the right one this time! If you haven't figured it out by now, I'd be screwed without the kindness of strangers so if you come across a foreinger who seems to talk funny and can't seem to figure out how to get exactly where he needs to get, try helping a brother out if you can.
Well I get to labadi beach but it starts pouring. If you thought getting around was hard in the hot sun, the rain is impossible. I wish I can say I ducked in to some small chop shop and chatted the locals about the Black Stars chances against Serbia this Sunday but I can't. The only thing around was the “labadi beach hotel”, a high-end joint for foreigners doing “Africa Lite”, so I escaped there for a bit. After dark, I set out to try my chances with the tro tro. I took off my shirt to add a layer of protection for my netbook and sought cover under a small bus shelter. Hours past and I felt like I could still see the same cars not too far in the distance, and every tro-tro and taxi that past was not accepting customers. I knew then it would be impossible to get home without a little luck. Again luck twice in the form of a teenage Ghanian girl who shouted out from a newish volkswagen “hey you, where are you going”. I took a few seconds to check my gut, and it told me this was the only way I was getting home. I told her first junction and she waved me over. There a found a father, the girl and two other kids. So was less than a week in Ghana and I've already been in a car accident and I've hitchhiked. After about an hour and a half in traffic we made it to first junction and from there I grabbed a “shared taxi” to my street. I'll never complain about the Metro again.
Today I met the lead partner of my firm for the first time. Everyone has spoken so highly of him all week and I can see why. He's extremly sharp and eloquent, and has a good sense of humor. He wants me to brief him on my first week in the office tomorrow so he can figure out how to use me better for my remaining time here.
This weekend Shara, Andrea and I are going to “Cape coast”. It's most famous for being a hub for slave trading (possible that my ancestors once past through there”. We're going to see the castles (as Elyse suggested) the national park, and possible take in Ghana's world cup match at a local bar. I hope to have some great pictures to finally share!
Monday, June 14, 2010
June 14th
Since I’m losing so much time on the Tro Tro due to traffic, I’ve decided I’m just going to work long hours (avoiding both the morning and rushhour traffic) and learn as much as possible at the firm. This Morning was a long day at court, but luckily my day was broken up with lunch with my boss and some colleagues. They love poking fun at me about eating African dishes, but luckily they had my favorite (Red Red) so I didn’t have to pretend that I liked it more than I really did. Lunch in Ghana is pretty funny actually. Once the food arrives you can hear a pin drop. “My good friend, there are no friends during Chop” says my boss to me just before he dug into his fufu and goat stew with his bare hand. That was fine with me because I was pretty hungry and no one would have to judge the Obruni for eating his lunch with a spoon (although red red pretty much requires one anyway). This afternoon I have two related assignments and I hope to be done by 19:00 GMT. With that in mind I better end my break. Hope to post about my weekend/pictures tomorrow.
Friday, June 11, 2010
June 11th
Jotted down some notes from wednesday and thursday but I haven't been near the internet and my thumb drive doesn't work here. I'm heading to cape coast this weekend with Shara and Andrea (I'll be sure to visit the canopy walk and the castles, Chaye!) . Cape Coast was basically a trading hub back in the day, most notably for slaves. If you're African American it's possible that your have ansesctors that passed through there. I'll be sure to get lots of great pictures of the castle and other sites. Be sure to root for the US (vs England Saturday at 2:30 Eastern time) and the Black Stars (vs. Serbia, 1o:00am Eastern Time) this weekend!
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
June 8th
Left my thumb drive at work, so can't upload pics , womp womp.
First day of work was awesome, except for waking up an hour early after dreaming I was an hour late :-/. I met Evans at the Tro-Tro stop at 6:30. To get an idea of how big these things are, imagine either the Joey, a Jersey City Dollar Van, or the Trader Joes shopping shuttle (depending on where I know you from....and if you don't know what any of those things are imagine a sardine can with wheels) ...shrink that down to 2/3's the size....but then throw in twice the people. Add a potholed filled road and you got one sweaty party before work. In the end i got to work 20 minutes early and got to cool off in the AC (which felt too luxurious).
I met my office mate, Nii (pronounced Knee) before anyone else came in and he invited me to court. We set off at about 8:30 with DD (the most Junior associate and my assignments manager) and Christian and the firm's driver, Tony. Christian took me under his wing right away, grabbing me away from the rest of the group to file a motion with him. The process was kinda crazy. First Cristian pushes through the line and shoves our affidavit through a bank teller type window. Then we got the newly stamped document back and ran (literally) over to the bank to pay the court fees and get another stamp (they love stamps in Ghana). Finally we ran it back the the first office wheeeeeeeeeeeeere...we had to wait for hours to get it photo copied...to spare me that boredom.
I was sent to meet up with Nii who was about to argue for a hearing. In case you haven't heard, Ghana is pretty prone to power outtages. Today just happened to be one of those days and the courts lost power. Nii and I ran up and down the stairs peeking our heads in different court rooms, but none of the judges were sitting. After a couple of hours of this business I met back up with Christian to try to get the documents in order. Long story short, the Ghanaian court system is as big of a bureaucracy as the American court system!
Eventually I was driven back to the office where I was advised to research any book I wanted in the entire legal library until Christian and DiDi got back :-/ I decided on the Ghanaian rules of civil procedure. This turned out to be helpful a couple hours later when I was assigned by DiDi to draft a memo related to a court pleading. Overall I'm excited about the firm. There are lots of things that interest me including landlord tenant, human rights and family law. There are also things not so "public interest" that i'll be assigned too, but I'll try to keep that (although much appreciated) to a minimum so I can stay true to the purpose of my fellowship. Phew, time for bed to do it all again tomorrow! Promise I'll get a few pics up by the end of the week.
Monday, June 7, 2010
June 7th
You never really know what the highlight and lowlight of your day is going to be ahead of time. When I woke up this morning I would have guessed that the highlight would be meeting the lawyers at my firm, and the low light being something silly like Evans being late to pick me up(he was in fact by 30 minutes!) or sweating through my dress clothes on the Tro-Tro (common public transportation system). But the main partner wasn't in today so my short visit at the firm was just “ok”. So then maybe the highlight would be trying red-red for the first time (a Ghanian stew made from what looks to me like black eyed peas, served with sweet fried plantains) and the low light the waitress spilling some of said red-red on my khakis :-/. Perhaps the highlight could have even been acquiring a Black Stars (Ghanian National Team) Jersey for a mere 12 cedis (about $8).
Nope. In fact the highlight turned out to be me, Evans and Marcos emerging unscathed from the car accident we were in on the way home. (The lowlight is clearly the accident itself). One minute I'm admiring the water crashing against the coast from across the highway...the next minute I'm about 10 feet from being in the water.
We were driving southbound when a car inadvertently clipped us from behind. Normally we would have been ok, but at that very moment a motorcycle had passed us on the other side. In order to avoid hitting the motorcyclist , Marcos had to swerve. When he did so we jumped over the divider and spun around a couple of times , toward the sea. Fortunately for all of us, Marcos was able to bring the car to a halt, just seconds before reaching a ditch not 3 feet away from us (or worse the water itself!) We all got out and gave each other the traditional handshake/snap and Evans proclaimed “god was on our side”. Within a minute about 10 guys came up to us and did the same handshake, telling us we were very fortunate. Then we all pushed Marcos car out of the mud, which only suffered a dent from the clip and a flat tire or two, and one of Marcos's fellow taxi drivers drove by to pick us up. While pushing the car, Evans pointed out that we were most lucky not because Marcos brought the car to a stop before hitting the ditch (though of course that prevented us from getting injured) but because there were no other cars barreling down on us when we entered the opposite side of the road. (We spun around so much though I hadn't even realized we were on the other side of the road at that point!)
The strangest thing is my Dad (Sean and Aunt Missy can verify this) experienced a similar accident when he was younger. His good friend Stewie was driving and he was clipped, jumped over the divider, spun several times and finally stopped. An ordinarily busy road was inexplicably vacant, preventing any serious injury. I know they say like father like son, but geeeze!. Well, bottom line is we all made it out safe.
Tomorrow I start my job for real. I'm sharing an office with a lawyer there and I have a pretty nice desk :). One of the legal secretaries is going to be putting work together for me so she told me to tell her what my interests are tomorrow and she'll try to work around those interests. It also seems like I'll be making several court appearances so I'm pumped about that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
