I’ve been on two more adventures since my last entry.

The first was to an orphan care center in a village near Kofiridua. Some of my fellow ISEPers got involved working with this orphanage/ school after being connected by our program director. This week the plan was to build a roof for a building under construction at the school. I left for the journey with a small group on Friday evening (after a day spent shopping and ice cream eating in Osu). We switched vehicles twice on the way there with a fairly long wait each time. We were all exhausted when we got there even though it wasn’t very late. That turned out to be a good thing, because Jen, who had been there the weekend before, told us they were only keeping the generator running for us. We peed and brushed our teeth outside and then fell asleep on the mattresses they had provided us. After the drive up the mountains in the dark, I had the feeling that I would wake up in the morning to be absolutely amazed by the beauty of my surroundings.

I woke up and fell asleep again and reawakened to the sounds of roosters, goats, and children all starting their days. I stepped outside and realized that my suspicions were correct: the place was beautiful. The school buildings were situated in a forest clearing on one of the higher hillsides (I’m really bad at deciding when to say mountain and when to say hill. They were pretty big, so maybe mountains would be more accurate). The view was absolutely incredible.

The children were all going about some chores, pumping or carrying water, cutting or raking up grass…they were all busy doing something. I learned later that they get up with the sun at 5:30 every day.

After breakfast we were all ready to get to work, but after waiting around a while for instructions we were told that the mason was sick and wouldn’t come to show us what to do. We ended up doing a few small painting projects, but mostly we just played with the kids.

These were some of the sweetest kids I’ve met. They love to give you high fives. They love to be picked up and jokingly nearly dropped on the ground. They love to teach you “secret” handshakes that every kid there seems to know. They love to play football and “volley” with you even when you tell them you’re not good. They love to pick fruit for you. They love to show you which bed is theirs. And on and on. Seriously, they’re great.

Even though we hadn’t done the heavy lifting we came for, we still went to bed exhausted. On Sunday we went to the on-site church service. Sometimes I really think I have narcolepsy—I wasn’t even that bored, and I wanted to pay attention to the sermon to find out more about what preachers want kids to believe about God, but I just kept nodding off. It happens in class a lot too. And on trotros.

After church our day was pretty much identical to the previous one, with a lot of waiting around, playing with the kids, and a little painting. I had the goal of taking lots of pictures, but I ended up letting some of the kids borrow my camera to take pictures, so I’m not sure how many good ones I got.

The best part was getting to eat dinner with the Pastor (who is one of the main people in charge of the orphanage because it’s a Baptist school). He talked to us for a long time about why he felt called to the work he does, and about some of the future goals and plans for the school. He told us, in his own way, one of my favorite things to hear when I am volunteering: You have no idea the difference you make. He said that a lot of the village kids want to be pastors when they grow up because pastors are the most educated, successful people they come in contact with. Then, if they meet a doctor, they will want to be doctors. The more people they meet, the more dreams are planted in their head, and the more they are driven to study hard.

One thing I noticed in comparing BASCO to Peace and Love (the orphanage I went to the beach with) is that the rural, village setting at BASCO means that the kids at the school are surrounded by other children who aren’t in school, who aren’t getting as much to eat, and who aren’t as well cared for as the kids at the school. Most of the children grew up in the surrounding villages and are very much aware of their relative comfort and opportunities. I wonder, but am not certain, if the kids at Peace and Love, in a more urban setting, are more aware of people who have more opportunities than they do, and if that makes a difference in their behavior.

One other really cool thing came out of this trip. For a while I’ve been wondering if volunteerism is as valued in Ghanaian culture as it is in the US (There is a voluntary year of national service where college graduates can receive a small living stipend to do work for the government. Most people participate, and no one would elect someone to public office if they didn’t complete their year of service.). I came to the conclusion that…it isn’t really. No one has required volunteer hours, churches don’t really go on mission trips. At least, that’s the impression I got.

But, Jen convinced a few Ghanaian guy friends to come along with us and they both had a really great experience. Neither of them had ever done anything like this and were completely unaccustomed to the traditional, simple, lifestyle that we witnessed and took part in. They both expressed that it had been really meaningful to them and made them appreciate what they had. One of the boys even said that he wished the school would organize trips like that for everyone to go on. This made me hopeful and excited and proud in the way that every promising, hopeful bit of news about Ghana makes me feel. Wouldn’t that be such a cool job, to organize service trips and village stays for city kids in Ghana?

Well, that’s all for now. I have another adventure to tell you about before I go back to BASCO this weekend to help out with their donor appreciation program.

To continue my pattern of writing about weekends long after they’re over and done, I will say that a week ago Wednesday I thought I would be leaving for a five day trip west along the coast to Takoradi. Our reason for going was to stay at Green Turtle Lodge, a really exciting eco-friendly lodge with opportunities for hiking and canoeing (www.greenturtlelodge.com). After trying and trying to get in touch with them by e-mail, phone, and text message, we finally received a text back saying they didn’t have room for us after all. So much for that.

So we consulted our travel guides again (if you’re looking to travel to Ghana, buy the Bradt’s guide, not the Lonely Planet Guide to West Africa) and started planning a trip to Ho, but became discouraged when we discovered the only buses out of Ho left at 4:30 and 7:30 am on Sunday. It didn’t seem worth it because we had decided not to leave until Friday morning, so we would be spending two nights there but only one day.

We went back to the books and decided that a trip to Akosombo would be reasonable, where we could visit Bodi falls on Friday, a bead market and the Akosombo dam on Saturday, and hike in the nature reserve Shia Hills early Sunday and leave for home afterwards.

We awoke Friday morning to pouring rain and decided to wait another day to travel. Rain was forecasted for the entire Western half of Ghana and we didn’t want the spend the weekend as cold and wet travelers. We decided if the weather was more promising the next day we would take the same trip but leave off the waterfall, where we reasoned the hiking would be quite dangerous from the rain.

Saturday morning two of our traveling companions were not feeling well and one didn’t want to make the trip without the waterfall because that’s what he was looking forward to the most.

This is a really long, roundabout way of saying that I tried really hard to travel this weekend and failed.

I ended up going with two friends to Labodi beach to play with the kids from a nearby orphanage where a lot of exchange students volunteer. I had so much fun! I love teaching swimming lessons because I love to see kids get over their fear and start to love the water as much as I do, and so this was even better because I love the ocean ten times more than swimming pools and I didn’t actually have to teach them anything.

Come Sunday I had a lot of recovering to do. I learned that my sunscreen is only waterproof for 80 minutes of water activity. Who wants to go swimming for just 80 minutes???!!! Besides being sunburnt, I was sort of dehydrated and sore from piggyback rides and carrying kids around. I also had to take my poor friend to the hospital because she had malaria.

This would be a good time to tell you that I will probably get malaria while I am here. I am taking the proper medications and precautions, but I could still get it. I am warning you guys about this because since being here we have all taken on a different attitude about malaria than we had before. Before, it seemed like a terrifying, horrible, foreign disease. Now, we realize that it’s a lot more like getting the flu. The anti-malaria medications we are taking reduce the severity of our illness if we get it. Malaria is a very treatable illness, especially if it is treated early, and we have easy access to care and medicine if we contract it. I am telling you all this so that if I get malaria I can properly complain about how miserable I am without anyone worrying that I am on the brink of death.

Anyway, that was my weekend. My only other news is that my hair was starting to get really long and fluffy and annoying and so I decided to go and get some extensions braided in so that I could put it in a ponytail and forget about it. It only cost $11! It’s working out well so far. I think I look like a totally different person, but that wasn’t really the goal. It’s definitely weird to have instant long hair, but it was a fun experiment and I can leave them in for 3 weeks.

Ok, so the weekend was over a few days ago, but I figure if I don’t blog about my most recent adventure, I won’t blog about the next one when it happens because I’ll be too far behind.

Kumasi is Ghana’s second big city. It used to be the capitol city of the Asante Kingdom, but now it’s a huge city and a major transportation hub because of its central location. We left Friday morning and drove and drove and drove, then stopped for lunch where we waited and waited and waited, and then we drove some more. The end of the drive was very pretty because Kumasi is located in a very hilly region of the country.

Our first stop was the Manhyia Palace Museum. Here’s the story, as best as I can remember, of the palace: When the British tried to impose their rule on the Asantes, King Prempeh I resisted. The British imprisoned him for his rebellion, but his constituents would follow him. The colonialists found this very threatening, so they kept moving him further and further away from the kingdom until he was finally exiled on a little tiny island in the Indian Ocean. After a while the British people decided that he wasn’t so threatening after all and they brought him back. To make him more amenable to British rule, they built him a palace. But Prempeh didn’t want to accept any gifts and only moved into the palace once the Asantes had paid for it in full. The palace was used by Asante kings until the 1970s when it was turned into a museum.

The museum was pretty cool. My favorite display was the first TV in Ghana. There were other things too, but mostly it was really hot and everyone was tired from traveling all day. After that we went to the National Culture Center, where there are shops that make and sell crafts but it was around 5 so a lot of the shops were closed. I bargained for a painting and realized for the second time that you’re more likely to get the price you want if you’re bargaining with multiple sellers. If you hold strong, one of them will give.

Then Theresa, our program director, treated us to a yummy buffet dinner at the hotel. After taking our first hot baths of the semester (no hot water or bathtub at the hostel) my hotel-mate and friend, Harmony, and I fell asleep as soon as our heads hit our pillows. We woke up for the longest day ever.

First we went to Bonwire, a village renowned for kente cloth weaving. We went into one big building that was just one room with colorful kente cloth hung all over the walls and numerous sellers trying to get your attention along the perimeter. In the center of the room there were probably around eight or ten looms. The looms take up a lot of space because the strings have to be kept taught and you need a lot of string. Men and boys do the weaving, not women ever, and there were young boys using the looms while we were there, pushing the foot pedals, pushing the new weave down with a comb…they could do it really fast. It was really overwhelming because I had never really seen kente cloth before and didn’t really know what I was looking for, but everyone wanted me to buy theirs, and come to their shop, where they all “have good price.”

After leaving the main big building, there were more options, seriously, shop after shop of brightly colored cloth, some in traditional African colors and some in pretty pinks, purples, and blues. There were a ton of kids in the street and most of them asked for pens, not money for food. It was kind of perplexing. There was also at least one big funeral in the village and so a lot of people, especially older people, were dressed in the customary brown, black, and red. We definitely had the chance to practice our bargaining skills.

Next we went to another village where they make dye to stamp designs on fabric. The dye is made from bark that they crush and then simmer for a long time. We got to pick our fabric and then some stamps and they helped us stamp the fabric. Mine didn’t turn out very good because I had two cups of coffee with my breakfast. And tons and tons of kids came and talked to us while we waited, which would have been ok but they really all just wanted money. Some kids would ask me to take their picture, and then expect me to give them some change or food afterwards. After they asked me! Other kids would shove little pieces of kente at you saying “It’s a gift from my heart” with the real objective being to make you feel guilty and give them money.

After being thoroughly overwhelmed and exhausted by the village kids, we got back on the bus to go to the woodcarving village. This was absolutely the most overwhelming place of all. There were tons and tons of little shops full of woodcarvings. As soon as we got off the bus, every shopkeeper was hassling us to “Come, come, come” and “I will give you good price. You are student, you pay student price. I am student, too. Come, come.” Every shop was pretty much identical, and as soon as you picked something up, a shopkeeper would immediately swoop down on you and ask “How much will you pay?” Bargaining skills were really crucial here because the shopkeepers knew that we had no idea how much things should cost and their starting price would be way, way, way too high. One guy asked $65 for something I ended up paying $15 for! Trying to discern what you wanted in such a high pressure environment was really hard, and nothing you said made it easier.

We were all really glad when it was time to leave for lunch at the National Culture Center. This time every craft shop was open, and it was somewhat less stressful than the places we had been in the morning. We left on our own to walk down to the market to search for fabric. The Kumasi market is huge, some people say it’s the biggest market in West Africa, and we didn’t have much time and we definitely were not in the right place for fabric. We saw a lot of market happenings, and walked past a place where men were waiting to provide streetside barbershop services. Pretty much all we did after that was eat dinner and go to bed.

The next day we went back to the market because hardly anyone found any fabric. We walked to this one area where there was a whole row of little fabric shops that were completely full of stacks of fabric all the way up to the ceiling. I barely had any money left but I bought some really cool fabric.

I decided it would be a good idea to use the bathroom before we got on the road, but the facilities available were the most un-bathroom-like imaginable. There was neither a sink nor a toilet, just a room with a gutter by the wall. Without going into too much more detail, it was awkward but not catastrophic, but definitely not something I want to repeat.

We took a different way back that was more scenic. It was sooo beautiful and Harmony, Amanda, and I talked about Hendrix things for a long time. Coming back from trips is really cool because it makes me realize that I have a home here to come home to.

It’s hard to believe that we’ve just begun the fourth week of classes (and our fifth week here!). The add/drop day was Friday, so I finally have a definite schedule. I had a pretty hard time picking classes because I don’t really need to take anything, so there were a lot of choices. Some classes are really far away, some didn’t meet during the first two weeks, some switched meeting times or places. Additionally, some lecturers are just not very good. I don’t think note-taking is really emphasized as a study skill, and so many professors read their notes very slowly and expect students to copy down each and every word. It’s very tiresome. Student participation also doesn’t seem to be a normal part of class. Some of my professors, Americans or renegades of some other variety, will ask questions of the class that are met with blank stares. It’s depressing. It’s not that no one can answer the questions, it’s just that they’re not used to having to participapte. And the classes are really big, so everyone expects that someone else will answer them. But I did manage to find some classes that will be interesting. I’m taking:

Social Work: Working With Individuals

This professor is American, so I can understand her very easily, and she jokes around and asks the class questions. She has practiced social work in Ghana for a number of years since moving here and it’s interesting to learn about social work in this context. I’m excited about this class because there aren’t any social work classes at my itty bitty school and I think I might want to be a social worker one day. Maybe.

Political Science: Identity and Conflict in Africa

I just went to this class for the first time today. I think it will be pretty good. After spending too long outlining general principles and terms we will do some case studies about the role of identity in African conflicts, including Sudan, Rwanda, Liberia, and Ghana. One frustrating thing is that the professor will explain something pretty thoroughly while speaking normally, and I will take good notes on it, and then he will signal for us to start writing and he will read some long, fancily written sentences for us to copy down. Then he will summarize the whole thing again. It would be completely unbearable, except what he says is actually interesting (the first time, anyway) and he slips some jokes in, too (a few that I even understand).

Political Science: Ghana From Colonialism to Independence

I hope this one is good. I don’t think the professor is quite as organized as I would like, but it’s an interesting topic and will be a good introduction to Ghana’s history and politics.

Music: Drumming for Foreigners

This class is really fun! We sit around in a circle under a tree and learn to play African drums. Only white people take it, so we move pretty slow. I don’t think I’m the worst one in the class, but there was this one beat that I seriously couldn’t learn until he taught it really slowly.

Linguistics: Introduction to Twi

This class is a requirement for everyone in my program. It’s a language course that teaches one of the main local dialects, Twi. It’s not coming very naturally to me, but the sounds are at least starting to sound less foreign, so it’s a good start I guess.

Archaeology: Art History of Ghana

I love this class! I’m not very cultured and I never really cared that much about art, but I went to this class anyway because someone told me it was good. And they were totally right. The professor is this old, skinny, expressive man who uses his whole body to gesticulate. Besides being really entertaining, he apparently is also a very prominent figure in West African archaeology.

That’s all for my academic classes, but learning is really round the clock. Just about every day either I or someone I’m talking to will casually start a sentence with “Oh, so I learned that…” and try to explain some cultural nuance or vocabulary word or place to visit or place not to visit. We bounce around hypotheses and evidence to test each new theory because culture is a really complex thing to understand.

Our ISEP directors planned a really exciting and expensive voluntary trip to the Northern region for us this weekend, but it had to be cancelled because the bus was broken. Apparently, buses in good enough condition to go to the North are hard to come by, and I think there was some kind of governmental conference this weekend hogging all of the good busses.

So the trip was postponed, and in its place we decided to return to Cape Coast for a day trip because there was a festival there today. I sadly don’t know very much about the festival, even though I just returned from it. I’ve been told it was a harvest festival, except Cape Coast and the surrounding villages are fishing villages, not really farming so much. And I thought fish were kind of a constant harvest (if you would call it a harvest) and wouldn’t really have a ‘harvest’ to celebrate. I envisioned a very Discovery channel-esque event, with music and dancing and colorful things everywhere, but in reality it was a lot like what a similar event would be like in the states: Everyone knows they’re supposed to be having fun but it’s hot and crowded, they can’t find a good bathroom, and all the drinks are overpriced.

More so than anywhere else I’ve been, pick pocketing was a constant fear because many areas were just so crowded. I managed to leave with everything I brought, but there were a few close calls. At one point I looked down after feeling a tug at my waistband to find that my camera that I had tied to my belt loop and put in my pocket was in the hands of some guy! I asked him to give it back and he let me take it back out of his hands. Then he disappeared, presumably to go rob someone else, far away from where I caught him.

Anyway, the crowds, heat, and threat of theft were pretty off-putting, but it was still pretty cool I guess. We spent some time walking on the beach and climbing onto these huge huge rocks that the waves would crash onto. I talked to this guy who is a driver in Elmina (the next town over from Cape Coast, where we went to the castle last week) and he told me about getting a driver’s license in Ghana. You have to get 21 out of 30 questions right on a written test…there’s no practical driving test. This might sound surprisingly lax to you guys, but after seeing the way people drive here I was surprised that there was any kind of driving test at all. Anyway, the beach was really beautiful, as always.

The whole point of going to this was the see the parade. Everything was so chaotic that I’m not even sure if I saw the whole parade. We saw some police on cool motorcycles and some important looking people in nice SUVs. But the most exciting part was the chiefs. The chiefs from the nearby villages were all carried around on these carriage/bed things way high up above everybody. They were shaded by carefully positioned umbrellas, also carried by people down below. Other people carried around big drums for someone else to hit. The chiefs danced to their drummers’ drumming and waved at everyone. They wore traditional clothing and varying amounts of gold jewelry. Everything about the procession of the chiefs was very ornate and theatrical. I felt lucky to get a glimpse of the chiefs because the chiefs reside only over rural villages…not college campuses. All in all…it was an experience. I don’t think I’ll put a modifier there.

I just got back from Cape Coast with my group. We left early Saturday morning (not as early as we were supposed to, though, the bus driver was on Ghana time) for Kakum National Park. We stopped in some village on the way because our bus needed some kind of tire repair or something. When we stopped all these little boys started showing off for us, doing flips and cartwheels and dancing. It was really cute and bizarre. When the bus driver told us we had to get off of the bus while it got fixed I thought “Oh my god, this is going to be crazy!”

And it kind of was. Some kids and my group played football/soccer with the kids. I ended up talking to this little boy who was babysitting his little brother and then I got to hold the little one! He was really sweet but he kept grabbing at my glasses. He was in love with me. I took a lot of pictures. It was really cute because as soon as you asked if you could take their picture like five other kids would come over and get in the picture too, and just when you had stepped back enough to fit everyone in, more kids would come. And then once you took it everyone would want to see and they would point at each other in the picture and laugh. It was really fun. Best pit stop ever.

 We got to the park around midmorning. Kakum National Park protects 357 square kilometers of some of Ghana’s only remaining forest. Part of it is real, legitimate rainforest, like from science classes and stuff and part of it is semideciduous. I don’t really know which is which, but all of it was beautiful. Even though the park is huge, only a small portion of it is accessible. The main attraction, and the only thing we did was the canopy walk. There were these swinging rope bridges strung between some of the really big tall trees. You could see over the whole rest of the forest from these bridges. It was really incredible. I took a lot of pictures. None of them are really that great because I took them with one hand while the other hand gripped the rope, but hopefully I will get some pictures up soon. Until then you can do an image search for Kakum if you want. It was totally awesome, but we had to wait in line for a really long time and it seems like lines are not quite an international concept like you might assume. The people we waited with were really loud and boisterous and also quite pushy. One step onto the rope bridge was enough to push the long wait out of our minds though. It was pretty exhilarating.

After a long wait for our lunch we headed to our lodging for the night. We stayed at a place called Anomabu Beach Resort. It was so beautiful! Each “room” is actually a clay hut, complete with a private bathroom, hot water heater, toilet paper, soap…The huts are surrounded by low coconut trees (marked with signs that say “Please do not pluck the coconut”). I’m fairly certain that the beach was the most beautiful place I’ve ever been. It was definitely the cleanest one I’ve been to in Ghana. It was very beautiful and romantic and made me feel pretty lovesick… It was such a magical place. The ocean was really fun to swim in, and the complimentary breakfast was also really good. All you can eat isn’t really a normal Ghanaian thing, usually you pay for exactly what you get (at some places you order rice by the price as if it were a measurement—30 peshwas of rice or 40) so it was really nice to just keep going back for more fresh pineapple.

I was sad to leave the resort (I don’t think I’ve ever stayed anywhere that called itself a resort before…hmmm). Next we went to St. George’s Castle, a castle originally built by the Portugese, but taken over by the Dutch, and then sold to the British. Though initially a trade and commerce center, the dungeons were soon used to house the most profitable trade items of the time—slaves. After capture, slaves were housed in castles/forts like this one near the harbor until a ship came for them. They were kept in the closest and filthiest of quarters and fed the absolute bare minimum, apparently to ensure that the strongest would survive and because the cost of obtaining slaves was so marginal. The tour guide was very knowledgeable and sensitive and really made it a powerful experience for everyone.

We tried to go to another slave castle, Cape Coast Castle, but the Anglican Church was holding a huge event there and we couldn’t get near it, so we just went to lunch and drove home.

The whole trip was organized by the directors of the program I’m on, ISEP, and we didn’t have to do anything except show up!

If anyone is still reading…look for a “Ghana in the News” post (I’ve been saving up some links) and a “Some Things You Take For Granted That I Don’t Anymore” post (still thinking of a good title for that one. And also, next weekend I’m going on another ISEP trip (this one I had to pay extra for though…) to the Northern region.

My dad thought it would be a good idea to tell everyone about eating. It’s not awesome. My travel doctor told me that if you can’t peel it or cook it, you should forget it. So we’re all a little veg deprived, but it doesn’t seem to be very customary here to eat many vegetables. The diet is very carb heavy. For about a week we ate mostly chicken and rice, chicken and rice. Now that we’re buying our own food, it’s rice and beans, rice and beans. Pretty much every day. For breakfast there’s really yummy egg sandwiches that you can buy at the market, fruit, or bread. We have a little cafe inside of our hostel that serves runny oatmeal, egg sandwiches, and really interesting but good pancakes. Coffee is always instant and in small cups.

There’s no McDonald’s, Burger King, Pizza Hut, or Taco Bell. The only familiar chains are the Shell gas station just off campus and the Holiday Inn right by the airport. It’s really kind of nice to know that I managed to find somewhere the chains haven’t penetrated yet, but sometimes you just want a cheeseburger. And coffee.

The fruit is great though, and there’s a guy who sells veggie kebabs. I eat the cole slaw here, even though I’m not really supposed to. So far, so good. And, tonight is buy one get one free at the pizza place near campus!

But on to water. I have to buy bottled, of course, that’s not what I am going to write about. The big water news is that once every ten years, the Greater Accra region (where I am) undergoes massive pipes and plumbing rehab. Once every ten years happens to be right now, and starting sometime today, they are shutting off the water for TEN DAYS. Water trucks will come to replenish reservoirs in buildings, but things here tend to be rather unreliable. Assuming the reservoir in our building gets filled regularly, we will have to take buckets to this spigot to fetch water for showers and flushing the toilet. But this is what I live for right? So I can go home and say I spent ten days bathing from a bucket?

I tried to think of a neat little theme for this entry but couldn’t. We’ll see what happens when I try to think of a title. It’s a good time for another post though because I’ve had some more…experiences.

Most excitingly, I’ve been to the beach! The beach closest to downtown Accra is called La Beach. We went as a group a few days ago. I had a great time because I hadn’t been to the beach in a long time, but to be fair it was pretty crowded and sort of dirty. The waves were huge! So it was fun.

I also just finished washing my clothes…in a bucket! Two buckets, actually. They are currently hanging up in our courtyard, underwear and all. I think I did a pretty good job. I guess they’re clean?

I also organized my room. I made myself a shelf out of the box my bottled water came in and a pencil cup out of a water bottle I cut the top off of. Clever, right?

I’ve mostly navigated the disorganized bureaucracy to sign up for my classes. First we had to register as students in one building, then go to another building to get our student ID cards. Then we had to walk around the humongous campus to each department that we wanted to take classes in taking classes in and copy down the meeting times and locations of the courses we want. Some courses don’t have a venue assigned. Other courses, no one you ask knows where that particular classroom is. Anyway, you also must register with each department you’re taking courses in. Each department is different. Some are very easy, but some make you stand in one line, then send you somewhere else only to be told to go back to wherever you came from, or that you don’t have the right paperwork…it can get pretty frustrating. And you need passport photos for all of them. It’s very strange.

I went to class Monday morning and learned that the lecturers are all on strike. But my professor showed up anyway because she didn’t care about the strike. The class was very good. It was called Social Work: Working With Individuals. When she came into class and started talking I was thinking to myself “Oh good, I can understand her!” She asked the class if everyone could understand her accent and I was like “Of course we can! You’re speaking so clearly!” But she wasn’t asking me, she was asking the Ghanaian students, because she has an American accent! I didn’t even notice… 

Anyway, ever since then it’s been kind of questionable whether or not we should go to class. Even though the strike ended today, a lot of classes don’t meet in the first week and a lot of Ghanaian students don’t even bother moving into their dorms until this weekend!

My second class was today. Classes meet weekly for two hours. Two hours! This class was taught by a Ghanaian woman who everyone calls Grandma. I think the class will be interesting, but it’s so hard to stay awake when it’s warm, there’s a gentle breeze, and dim lighting…The class is called African Traditional Religions. She said that if the class wasn’t mandatory for Religion majors, most Ghanaian students wouldn’t take it because of the conflict with their Christian beliefs.

I’ve also been a little more adventurous with food. I tried banku today, a traditional Ghanaian dish. It’s kind of like eating raw dough with sauce. The banku itself is made of ground up cassava and yams and the sauce is made of…sauce. I don’t know, actually. I was a little upset with myself because I didn’t like it at all. So much for appreciating Ghanaian culture…

 Sometimes I feel close to home, like when I hear rap music blasting from car speakers. Other times I feel like I am in a completely different world, like when we go to the markets.

My hostel-mates and I live a few minutes walk from a small market called “The Night Market,” a slightly longer walk to a bigger market called “The Bush Canteen,” and a short tro-tro ride to the Medina market. Today we also rode to the market in Accra. I don’t think Medina and Accra are actually very far, but traffic in and out makes the trip longer.

I feel like I knew there would be outdoor markets, but I kind of thought it would be like buying peaches or corn from a stand on the side of a country road.

It is totally not like that at all. All of the markets I have been to have different characters, but Medina and Accra are most easily lumped together. Both are bursting to the seams with cars, people, and items for sale. Walk ten feet and you will have the opportunity to buy tomatoes, plastic lawn chairs, huge schloozing snails, pillows, bicycles, computers sitting in the dirt, plantain chips, sunglasses, mangoes, colorful fabrics, cell phones, and raw, whole fish. But before you could possibly walk ten feet to decide which of these delightful wares you might buy, your attention would be diverted by the hisses intended to catch your attention, calls of “Ha-lo!” and “Hey Abruni” and “Would you like to buy, 12 cedi, but I give you for 10.” A woman in traditional garb with a baby strapped to her back has probably already squeezed the back of your arm to direct you to her stand where “It’s the best.” Asking how much something costs is usually interpreted as “I would definitely like to buy this from you.”

I’m hoping that I’ve started to convey how completely overwhelming the outdoor markets are. Chaos is the only observable pattern. Children, chickens, and goats roam among the buyers, sellers, and cars. Whole families crouch and even sleep under their homemade stands. Cars are honking to say hello, get out of the way, my turn, and your turn.

Today we also were taken to the Accra mall, which was mostly like a mall in the US except that it wasn’t and there were two supermarket/super wal-mart type stores within it. Words cannot even describe how the simple existence of price tags and cash registers put me at ease. I try to appreciate the market economy occurring within the outdoor markets as the quickest, truest form of capitalism, but I still come out overwhelmed, exhausted, and with little to show for my time.

A lot has happened since I’ve written last. First of all, I finally finished packing. I went and visited Kelsey’s adorable scaredy-cat new kitten. I said some hard goodbyes. I went back home for my pants that I left in the dryer. I got up to the scanner in Lambert’s security line before I had to run back because I had forgotten my big stack of important documents. Oops.

And then I was off. After about 22 hours of traveling my plane finally touched down in Accra. I had already made some new friends studying at the University, and I met Amanda at the London airport (we had actually been on the same flight to London also, but I got to the gate so late/ the plane was so huge that we didn’t see each other). The airport was sort of chaotic, and all of us students grouped together while everyone waited for bags and changed money. After that we said goodbye to a lot of them because they were in different programs.

We arrived at our hostel after a surprisingly short drive where we all tried to take in as much as we could of our dark surroundings. I could only see enough to tell that I had never been anywhere like this.

I was pleasantly surprised by the huge courtyard in the middle of the hostel and the small screened-in back porch that my room opens out to. The room isn’t in great condition, but the bed is sleepable, there’s a working ceiling fan, screens on the windows, even a bookcase! We rearranged and finished unpacking yesterday, so it’s home now.

This week is orientation week for my exchange program, so we’ve mostly been getting to know each other and not meeting a whole lot of other students. We do have three student guides who are Ghanaian and have been helpful so far.

I feel like I’ve been here a lot longer than I have because our days our so long! Yesterday we got to sleep in, but we still did a lot. Today we had to get up early to go to two lectures from professors at the University. The first was on Ghanaian culture and etiquette. I learned a lot, but still got the impression that there was no way I had learned everything. The second was about the role of politics in Ghanain life. Apparently, this is a huge election year for them too, so we learned a little about that.

After lunch we embarked on Part 1 of our campus tour. It seemed like we walked really far, but when I checked the map I realized we’d only seen approximately…one third of the campus. This big school thing is really an adjustment for me. We spent a long time waiting to get passport photos printed. For some reason we need those for everything. I don’t quite get it.

Another thing that’s been an adjustment for me and the other American students is Ghanaian time. It kind of seems like things just sort of happen when they happen here and impatience just makes things worse. We spent an equally long time registering for…something. Not classes. Just school, I guess. We get to shop for classes for a few weeks before we officially sign up for them. Setting up your shedule is really complicated because you have to make sure none of your final exam times conflict. There’s a really complicated system with subject groups and course levels…big schools are hard.

All in all, everything is wonderful and strange. I haven’t had any mishaps or illnesses so far. I have a phone, internet, and roommate who’s not a freak. And I’m not dying of heat exhaustion. So far, so great.

Hopefully I’ll find a way to put pictures up. The internet has been too slow, but I might try early in the morning when it’s less busy. Also, akwaaba means you’re welcome in Twi