bowling adventures.
In my guidebook, there was a listing for a bowling alley in Accra. Now, this was clearly a “must see.” On Thursday, hop into a cab, show the driver what the book said about where to find this bowling alley. Ghana does not really do addresses. It is all “turn right at the lady selling plantain chips” or “its right next to that restaurant.” But no addresses, mapquest etc. The book said that this bowling alley is next to a bar called “next door.” We drive 40 minutes because of traffic, and end up at this desolate, dark parking lot of the bar “Next Door.” Michael went in and tried to explain what bowling is to the bartender to find out where this place is, but it just was not happening. But luckily, our friend was already at the bowling alley and came to save us. It was in fact, about 50 yards next door to the bar, but it was completely dark so we did not see it. We walk into the yellow building, and it is also completely dark inside, the electricity went out. We drank at the attached Chinese restaurant by candle light and waited for the electricity to come on, but it never did. Mission failed.
We did end up going to a great bar in Osu with a live band and I attempted my horrible white girl dancing. So overall, failed mission but successful night.
names.
so on the back of taxis, the names of every store or stand on the st, mostly either has something to do with god, jesus or soccer. Mostly things like “God is good hair salon” or “Jesus saves canteen” things like that. Anyways, I was in a cab the other day and on the cab in front of us it just said “abortion.” Nothing about abortions, nothing else but the word “abotion.” We asked our cab driver what the deal is and he looked at us like we are crazy for asking, or that we were asking what an abortion is. “You know, for girls.” “No, we know what an abortion is, but why does it just say abortion.” He mostly explained that taxi drivers can write whatever they want on the back of their car, but we were left with an unsatisfied explanation.
exotic.
I have never felt exotic before, rightly so, I look as American as one could ever be. But here, we stick out, and the connotation of it changes every place I go, and everyone with whom I interact.
The other day, I Stephanie, Tor and I went to the town where Stephanie stayed her first week in Ghana, to a grade school in a little town nearby. The minute we walked in, every child wanted to touch our hand, they had barely ever seen white people before. “Madam, please what is your name?” “I have seen you on TV before,” “You are so beautiful, why are you not married?” Flattering yes, but also a little bit overwhelming I must say.
Yesterday, we went to the beach. It was a wonderful day for the beach, the only place I feel like I have not been dripping with sweat the entire time. A breeze was out, and the water was the warmest sea water I have ever swum in. But of course, we stick out again, marriage proposals, photo demands, phone number requests etc. Despite the lovely day on the beach, it can be tiring.
unabundant internet.
Highlights of the past 5 days full of sensory overloads, confusion, new friends and food.
I am living in an apartment, the ghanaian students dorm, called “nairobi court” i have not met my roommate yet, she is ghanaian and coming tomorrow. But I have yellow and green tie dye sheets. I attempted the mosquito net but I was afraid i might suffocate underneath. So I am going to brave the chances of malaria, which is apparently no big deal. details to come on the living situation.
foods: coconut milk is a good call, and will make you real full and reallll hydrated. and i had to drink the whole thing so i could have it cut open and eat the coconut meat, which kind of tasted like tofu. good times.
the most decadent, juicy, delicious pineapple i have ever tasted.
and the most spicy food that left my entire mouth and lips tingling for hours.
the other night, we went to a bar called “jokers.” and who was there? no one other than the captain of the national ghanaian soccer team. this country loves soccer and jesus. those are the fads here. so this was a big deal. of course, since we stick out anyway, we stuck out even more and asked him to take a pic with all of us, and he was very nice about the whole thing, i am sure he gets it all the time.
and p.s. mosquitoes love me.
here we go again.
Ghana. The feelings I have about another journey that begins tomorrow do not resemble the shaky, excited nervous feelings that overcame me almost seven months ago on my way to Cape Town. Ghana feels more unreal, more intangible than Cape Town. I am not sure if it has anything to do with not having a best friend who has been to this country, like Morgan for South Africa, or if it has to do with my previous trip to this continent. I cannot fathom the heat, humidity and sweat that will greet me in Accra. I cannot fathom learning another language that does not at all resemble any language I have learned before. I cannot fathom how much soccer talk and paraphernalia will surround me in the city.
People tell me that I am so lucky, because I have “already done this.” But this experience is going to be nothing like the bustling, stylish, racist, cold city of Cape Town. If I wanted that, I would go back to Cape Town for a second semester. I want to break down the idea that the Western world has that Africa is just one lump under Europe and that every place within it is the same. I want to see this for myself.
It is also difficult to be leaving for this semester. Now that many of my friends are home from their abroad experiences, they continue life without me. I would love for home to freeze so I can gallivant around Africa without missing anything, but the drama will continue with or without me. It is not that I necessarily want to be there, but it is difficult coming home to a situation that has changed so much and still be in the past with a new journey embodying me so much that it is blocking my past life from coming in.
I thought that going abroad would fill a void in my life. Now, I know that this will not happen. It will add to my character, my life, my experience and my views of the world. But what void is there to fill? I don’t think I am missing anything, but I do always feel like a book with blank pages to fill, rather than a missing hole.
So, it is not that I am not horribly excited to see what this country has in store for me. I cannot imagine what it will be like, so it is even difficult to think about, to place myself there before I actually get there. Maybe I will have vivid dreams about it tonight enhanced by my malaria medication. We’ll see.
“Why think about that when all the golden land’s ahead of you and all kinds of unforeseen events wait lurking to surprise you and make you glad you’re alive to see?” Jack Kerouac, On the Road
