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.