I woke on Day 3 at 7 a.m…I thought it was later, but the combination of a blaring sun and a sweating body made for a less than ideal state of trying to fall back asleep. My roommate Spencer and I were the only two up at the time, and in attempt to live a healthy lifestyle, we decided to go on a short run. We did a loop around our small neighborhood, probably a mile or so, and by the end of it my entire shirt was drenched in sweat. Even at 7:30 a.m. the heat doesn’t hide. As we neared our house heading back we passed a local Catholic church – mass on Sundays starts at 7 a.m., and during the week, services are anywhere from 6-6:30 a.m. (probably because dressing up so well would prove fatal as the hours progressed). We’re definitely going to a church for the experience at some point within these next few weeks.

Our breakfast mirrored yesterday morning’s with the addition of some donuts made by scratch. Judith, our chef, sure can cook. We had a few hours downtime in the morning to relax and work on our blogs, but seeing as the internet in the house is slower than molasses, almost nothing would post. Our program director and driver arrived at 12:30 p.m., and we headed off towards Central Accra. Some parts of the city are extremely pretty and well-kept; we passed a performing arts center, newsstands, shops, boutiques, and rather large houses. A large portion of Ghanaians rest on Sundays or spend time in mass, so the streets are far less crowded. As told by Doc, driving through Accra on a Sunday is a completely different experience than during any weekday. It’ll be interesting to see the extremeties of traffic as time progresses.

Theater:

Black Star Square:

Flagstaff House:

After driving around the nicer parts of Accra we toured several poorer, less-maintained areas. Words do little justice to describe just how terrible conditions were in communities like Nima – there is pollution everywhere, trash piled several feet high, dozens of disease-ridden food stands, shit quality housing, and an overcrowding of people. We were advised to stay out of areas like such, as there are usually high crime rates and abundant opportunities to catch some sort of disease or illness. Driving through these narrow streets was terrifying; Ghanaians walk several feet from the cars because there is no sidewalk. Large ditches line the sides of rodes, so if you’re not walking in the middle of the street, you’re in a ditch. Little kids are running in-between cars, there is constant honking, and frankly I don’t know how there aren’t more car accidents. Apparently Sundays are the only day in which anyone can drive through with ease; the weekdays are congested with cars that cause hours worth of traffic. I can’t imagine such chaos.

 

Trash in Nima:

We drove around some more, observing sites like the Flagstaff House (Ghanaian equivalent of the White House), Black Star Square (noteable speakers apparently give presentations here), and a military cemetery. We stopped at the Omanye House – an art gallery on the beach full of beautiful Ghanaian art. Several coffins displayed highlighted various creative ways to bury the dead. I browsed all three floors of the gallery before heading down to the beach with Spencer. We stumbled over to what appeared to be a small fishing community full of various hand-painted canoes. We met some friendly Ghanaians who insisted on taking pictures and got to hang out with some young children, which was awesome. These kids were really excited to see us and we had a blast running around and making funny faces in photos. We met the rest of our group on the other side of the beach shortly afterwards where we took some fun photos and contemplated spending 30 CDs to take a dip in the pool. The humidity today was terrible; I was sweating for no reason.

Ghanaian art at the Omanye House:

Fish Coffin:

Canoes:

Ghanaian children: Ocean:   Oceanside resort:      

We bussed back to East Legon, ate dinner at Chez Afrique once again, and then headed home. It was around 7 p.m. at this point, so the rest of the evening was spent inside catching up on blogs, playing card games, and just having some fun in the house. It poured from roughly 9 p.m. – 11 p.m., so luckily we hadn’t gone exploring.

Day 4 started out rather early – our group boarded the van at 8:30 a.m. and headed over to the University of Ghana. We were lucky enough to receive two lectures from some notable staff members – Dr. Audrey Gazekpo and Dr. Janet Kwami. These two spoke on the topics of media in Ghana – usage of technology, the increasing popularity of mobile devices, advertising, etc. They answered our questions and provided a lot of really interesting information on the shift in culture and trends throughout Ghana over the course of the last several hundred years.

Lecture time:

Afterwards, the group walked over to ‘The Basement,’ an on-campus restaurant, for lunch. It was here I ordered fish with rice (I have rice for every meal…), and was served an entire fish head, eyes and everything. After getting over the initial shock of seeing a dead fish on my plate, I was surprised at how tasty the food truly was. It’s around 2 p.m. at this point and I’m crashing quickly. I don’t know whether it’s the heat and humidity, lack of sleep (usually going to bed around midnight and waking up before 8 a.m. every day), or a mix of the two, but it feels as though I’m in a never-ending state of exhaustion. Some students decided to check out Accra’s main mall, but I headed home with the others who felt like napping. I took a brief power nap, and then my friend Alexa and I walked down the street to an Internet Cafe. The internet in our house is extremely slow; web pages take 20 seconds to load, and uploading one picture to this blog spans anywhere from 30-45 minutes. At this internet cafe, you pay a small fee for a certain amount of time on their Ethernet or Wi-Fi. It worked faster than our house, but still wasn’t particularly speedy. I will always appreciate the speed of Internet when back in the U.S., because it is driving me, and all my housemates, absolutely crazy.

 

The Basement Cafe:

At 5 p.m. a large group of us headed over to watch the local community soccer game just a few blocks from our house. Locals form teams to play in an empty lot every Monday night, and many spectators gather for some free and fun entertainment. The announcer spoke in Twi, so I had no idea what was being said, but one team was significantly better than the other. I wish small events like this were a bigger deal in the US; it’s great to see men, women, and children away from their computers and phones, enjoying the company of others in a competitive yet friendly manner. We watched roughly 30 minutes worth before heading out and walking down the streets, taking note of more shops. Along our travels we encountered our first group of locals who seemed rather displeased with our presence. At first we thought they were telling us to go back to America, however a little while later we realized they were asking us to take us back to America. We were not surprised once we understood the miscommunication, every person we’ve met has been extremely hospitable, welcoming, and excited by our visit.

Community soccer game:

Cool newspaper stand:

An hour later, we returned to the house, only to discover the power was out. There was no electricity and very little water pressure. The sun sets around 6:30 p.m. in Ghana, so things were becoming progressively dark rather fast. As shitty as this initially appeared, a power outage turned out to be a huge opportunity for group bonding. Many of us sat outside and shared stories, played games, and just talked for hours on end. Without the crutch of a laptop or cellphone, everybody was far more open, honest, and to some extent, happier.

Around 9 p.m. a few of us wandered over to another local bar just down the road, where we paid roughly $1 USD for beer. We sat outside in the moonlight as the Ghanaian shipowners let us do our own thing; the six of us told more stories, shared some jokes, and just had a grand old time. Thinking back to arriving in Ghana, it feels like so much has changed for only four days spent in the country. I already feel far more comfortable and at ease here. There is a beauty about this place, and the people are so full of life and hospitality. I can see why those who have visited would come back in a heartbeat. It also saddens me how poor the portrayal of Africa is to those in the U.S. Yes, there are very crappy parts of Ghana, and there is most definitely poverty. Even in these impoverished, less well-off neighborhoods, however, everybody appears happy. Ghanaians take the time to enjoy each other and the simplicities in every day. You don’t need money when you have all your brothers and sisters around you.

We left the bar around 11 p.m. and returned home to find most everybody still awake. For the next two hours we all talked, listened to music, and just basked the company of one another, despite not having any power. Thank goodness for flashlights. The electricity and water pressure returned to a normal state around 12:30 a.m., which is when everybody decided to shower and finally head off to bed.

–

Day 5 is definitely a favorite of mine so far. We started off with a language lesson from Professor Kofi Saah, a linguistics teacher at the University of Ghana. Professor Kofi Saah reviewed old material, taught us more words, and other basic conversation skills. Something valuable I learned was the importance of greetings – it’s extremely rude to not greet those you pass on the street, ask how someone is doing, or follow up with questions asked by others. Ghanaians have a mass amount of respect for strangers, and this is made apparent through their greetings.

Afterwards our group boarded the van and drove roughly 40 minutes to the Aburi Gardens, a beautiful botanical garden located shortly outside of Accra. On the way we stopped to take some pictures overlooking the city.

View of Accra:

The Aburi Gardens is 68.4 hectares of impressive trees, flowers, plants, and landscape design. We went on a walking tour of the gardens, observing native African trees, spice trees and plants, and some other fascinating landscapes.

Aburi Gardens entrance:

Aburi trees: Inside a tree: Hand-carved tree:

After our walking tour the group ate at the Botannical Gardens Outdoor Cafe, enjoying a buffet style meal and for the first time in five days, pasta!

The cafe:

Three or four locals came up to our tables during lunch and attempted to make some bargains on beautiful hand-crafted masks, pottery, sculptures, and other woodcarvings. You can never get a minute’s rest around here…Ghanaians are constantly looking to make money off us foreigners. I bought two cloth postcards for cheap, as well as a pretty sweet Ghanaian backpack for the equivalent of $10 USD. I will definitely rock this back at the UO.

Afterwards, our group drove about 10 minutes to a local Woodcarving Village. This community of 30-40 outlets sold handmade bracelets, necklaces, bowls, plates, baskets, paintings, figurines, and other miscellaneous souvenirs. At last I had another opportunity to bargain. The outlets followed this format:

Shoppkeeper: Hello! Welcome! Why don’t you have a look in my shop?

Seeing as I want to be polite (and due to the fact that Ghana is highly dissimilar from America in the fact that you can not simply walk by someone on the street and ignore them), I stepped inside. I also don’t want to miss out on any special deals or rare items, because who knows what I may discover after some exploration. Some shopkeepers have an overwhelming amount of merchandise, while others only have a few pieces of pottery.

Shoppkeeper: Take a look around. I can get you a very good price.

At first I was merely looking, so I’d tell them how beautiful their work was, and that I’d be back.

Shoppkeeper: You see something you like? Name a price.

This format is repeated word for word from every single vendor, to the point where it’s almost comical. Sometimes, I’d tell them I really liked something, but needed to get more money from the bus (which was true, I spent quite a lot – but I didn’t have any money on the bus and just needed a getaway). The shopkeeper offered to walk with me to the van, or told me to keep the item and come back later with money. I politely declined because I felt bad, but it made me realize the amount of trust someone can have in a complete stranger. No store in the US would ever allow a potential customer to walkout with unpaid items and return later on – that mere thought is absurd.

I spent roughly an hour at the village, buying small gifts for friends, my parents, and myself. I managed to bargain for rather cheap deals and hope to return to this Woodcarving Village, because I could have easily spent another two hours conversing and bargaining.

The gang arrived home around 6 p.m. and spent the remainder of the night indoors. Our 6:30 a.m. wakeup call the following morning outweighed every desire to explore, go out, or be productive.