Chapter 2: CE N'EST PAS POSSIBLE!

Apologies for the time it is taking to update on this. Bouts of sickness and our trip to Northern Ghana got in the way...here it goes though.

DAY 2: Sunday, October 11
Starting location: Cotonou, Benin
Ending location: Malenville, Benin
Modes of transportation: taxi-moto (motorcycle), chartered car

Our plan for day 2 was to take a bus from Cotonou, which is basically along the ocean, up to Malenville, which is the town on the Benin side of the Benin-Niger border. We didn't have times for buses on Sunday, and we knew the trip should be about 12 hours. Buses for those long treks tend to leave really early--like between 4 and 6 am, so we thought we should get up super early to try to call about timing. So, at 2:45 am, my alarm went off and I tried to call three different bus companies about times. None of them answered (go figure!), and after trying again after 3 hit, we decide to sleep a few more hours and hope we didn't miss the bus. We woke up around 5:30 and went to try to ask the hotel guy how we should get a bus to Malenville. He told us that we had to take taxi-motos, the motorcycles, to the bus station. We were rather concerned about riding them, partially because no one even wears helmets, partially because I had a huge frame pack on and thought I might fly off on the curves, and mainly because none of us had ever been on a motorcycle before! I tried to use my broken french to explain that we did not want to take taxi-motos, we wanted a taxi-car, but the man insisted that that was not possible. We went outside with the intention of hailing a cab, but quickly saw that there were indeed no taxi-cars, just taxi-motos zooming by on these city streets.

With a little reluctance and lots of nervous laughter, we each climbed on the back of one of the three taxi-motos that the hotel guy hailed for us, and took off through the streets of the capital of Benin on motorcycles.

Oh, it was fantastic. I wanted to take pictures so badly, because it was just so exhilarating. I don't know how to describe it. The streets were fairly empty, because it was so early, and so we just zoomed up little hills and around corners, from paved streets to dirt roads, our three bikes passing each other at random times. Ahhh it was just refreshing and wonderful. I've never been a fan of motorcycles in the US because they seem so unsafe, but I have to admit, riding them just a few times already has me hooked.

After our wonderful wake-up of racing through the streets on motorcycles, we made it to what we had thought would be a bus station. However, there were no buses around. Instead, it was a dirt lot surrounded by little stalls and many many cars. There were some guys standing at the entrance, so we asked them about the buses. Luckily, one of them spoke a little bit of English, so we were able to communicate fairly well. He informed us that there actually were no buses on Sundays, and that we would have to charter a car for the trip. We were worried that a car would be insanely expensive, but it turns out the cost for each of us was not more than the bus would have been. They had a car almost ready to leave with two other passengers, so they said we could hop in that one. So we did!

In my experiences with West Africa, they try to cram as many people into a vehicle as possible, I'm sure to make more money. Luckily, for this leg of the trip there were only going to be the five passengers and the driver. The driver and other two passengers sat in the front, so it was just me Whit and Hols in the back. The car was decently big and pretty comfortable, even with three tall girls sitting in one row.

After that ride, I am convinced that Benin is one of the most beautiful places in the world. Even though we were just sitting in a car, the leg was one of my favorite parts of our trip. We passed rolling hill after rolling hill, saw the most gorgeous trees in the world, saw mountains with red rock slopes on one side and bright green foliage on the other. Amazing amazing amazing. We kept taking pictures and the driver and other two passengers, who I don't think spoke any English, kept laughing and laughing at us. It was just so gorgeous, I don't even have the words to convey it.

That first leg was about 7 and a half hours. It passed by pretty quickly, with all of us napping a lot. We eventually pulled into a car/tro-tro station in Parakou, which is a little farther than half way up Benin. We hadn't been told that we were going to have to switch cars, but we got the idea when the two other customers got out and the driver opened our door. They led us to another car, which we climbed into the back of. This car was much smaller and only had two doors. Then the fun part started! The driver started to tell us that we had to push over, because a fourth person was climbing in the back with us. We kind of erupted, all yelling "No!" I kept saying "Ce n'est pas possible!" (It is not possible!). The driver went back at me with "C'est possible! C'est possible!" We tried to ask him where another person was going to sit, and he just kept telling us to squeeze. We then explained that we were three large girls, and no one else would fit. He would have none of it. We basically just refused to move Eventually he closed the door and drove the car out of the lot. We thought we were leaving, but no, he drove back into the lot and got a guy that could speak English come over to explain that they needed to fit a fourth person in our car. We told him that no one would fit, and he said if we couldn't make room, we could pay the price of a fourth seat. We refused, saying we had already paid for our trip with only three people in a row, and we would not have enough money for our hotel if we paid for an extra seat. This was a big mistake on our part, as we soon found out.

After what was probably 20 good minutes of arguing, we got back in the car, the driver and three other people climbed in the front row, and we took off. About half way down the street, the driver stopped, pushed his seat forward, and this incredibly large African woman is standing there. They said, "PUSHEZ PUSHEZ!" They all motioned for us to squeeze together and move over so the lady could fit next to Holley. We looked at the driver and the lady, aghast, and just kind of shrugged to indicate that we thought they were crazy, that we had no idea how they expected this lady to physically fit in with us, and that it was simply not going to happen.

They didn't seem to believe us, because the lady started to climb in the back seat. We all shrieked a bit, and squeezed together as best we knew how. We were right--there was no room for the lady. And yet, somehow, she got in. I could feel Whitney and Holley's hip bones hitting mine as we tried to get closer, but bones don't bend. The large (and when I say large, I'm trying to be kind) lady could not even sit back against the seat, but had to lean forward to fit. She was not pleased. She kept yelling at the driver, who in turn would turn to us and yell "PUSHEZ PUSHEZ!" We didn't really know what to do, so we showed them we were trying to squeeze, but couldn't move anymore.

This little exchange of them yelling and us hopelessly squeezing lasted for about 20 minutes. I forgot to mention that at this time, our legs were all crammed in these awful positions with our bags stuffed down by them. I still have bruises on my shins from them, and Whit's knees were being shoved into the seat in front of her. It was totally understandable when, 20 minutes into the hellish ride, she shifted.

It was like the awful lady had been waiting those whole twenty minutes for one of us to become slightly dislodged. She pounced. Somehow, she shoved herself back so that she was taking up about a third of the seat and comfortably sitting with her back flat against the seat. And somehow, Whitney lost all space and ended up hovering over top of me. For the rest of the trip, Whitney was sitting on either my or Holley's lap. When I say the rest of the trip, I mean 6 hours.

It was awful. All of us had bruises on our legs, Whitney hit her head on the roof of the car more than once while we were going over bumps, and the big african lady kept glaring at us. We only stopped once or twice, and had barely any food. All of these days that we were traveling, we barely ate or drank, partially because we didn't have much with us, and partially because we didn't want to have to use the bathroom too much. Bathroom breaks along the way were mainly just using the bushes by the road, so we were hoping to go as rarely as possible.

The ride should have only been 5 hours, but it took about 6 and a half total. About the only good part about this ride was the stars. As it got dark, we were driving through areas that were completely black except for the stars. It felt like we could see every star that ever existed...I don't even know how to describe them, but they were what kept us slightly sane for the last two hours of our trip.

When we finally pulled into Malenville, our driver asked us which hotel we were staying in. When we told him the name, he said we had already passed it but he would take us back in a few moments. We stayed in the car a few more minutes, until we pulled into the trotro station, at which point he told us that he would take us back to the hotel for another 1000CFAs. We freaked out and climbed out of the car, because he had already told us he would take us to our hotel. It took him about 10 minutes to finally get that we were not going to pay to be driven to our hotel and to take my bag out of his trunk. Finally we had all of our possessions, and stormed away to find some taxi-motos. The ride on the motorcycles was incredibly refreshing after being stuck in a car all day, and we got another fantastic view of the stars. We finally pulled into our hotel and ordered some food. Spaghetti and french bread revitalized us so that we didn't even really mind the fact that our hotel was basically covered in bugs on the outside (and several on the inside) and rather hot. We had a mosquito net to keep the bugs away and had just eaten--it was all good.

The night would have probably stayed good, except Whitney got a call saying that her grandmother had died. I cannot imagine what that night must have been like for her--we ran out of phone credit so we couldn't call anyone, we were all stiff and broken from the long car ride, and we were stuck in a hot room with bugs. It was awful. All I can say is that I admire her ability to push through the rest of the week--because believe it or not, the 6.5 hour car ride we spent crammed into the tiny car was by no means the hardest part of the trip.

Once upon a time...

There were three girls named Maggie, Whitney, and Holley. They decided that they would tackle four countries in West Africa in 9 days for an epic adventure. And what an adventure they had...


It's going to take me a few days to actually recount everything that happened in our crazy, intense, emotional, ridiculous, and just all around insane week. Bare with me :-) I'm just starting to process it all.

DAY 1: Thursday, October 8

Starting location: Accra, Ghana

Intended ending location: Lomé, Togo

Ending location: Accra, Ghana

Modes of transportation: feet

Our plans to leave on Thursday afternoon were foiled by the papers that all three of us had due at 12 noon, the midterm (if you can call it that) Holley and I had Thursday afternoon, and the fact that Holley was violently ill. Plans to leave were postponed until Friday.

DAY 1, TAKE 2: Friday, October 9

Starting location: Accra, Ghana

Intended ending location: Cotonou, Benin

Ending location: Accra, Ghana

Modes of transportation: taxi

Our plans to leave on Friday were foiled by the fact that Hols was really sick. We forced her to go to the hospital on Thursday night, and she returned diagnosed with probable typhoid. Plans to leave were postponed until Saturday. Whit and I spent the day riding in cabs to several different bus stations, trying to get tickets for the next day. We arrived at the right one at 4:10 to be told that they closed at 4. We'd have to get tickets the next day.

DAY 1, TAKE 3 : Saturday, October 10

Starting location: Accra, Ghana

Traveled through: Lomé, Togo

Ending location: Cotonou, Benin

Modes of transportation: taxi, bus, tro-tro

We finally set off on our adventure on Saturday at 5 am. Since we couldn't get tickets on Friday, we had to get to the bus station an hour early to try to beg for a few seats. Our trip to the bus station was uneventful, we managed to get a few tickets, and the bus left on time. It was flawless!

Our bus ride took us to Aflao, the city at the Ghana-Togo border. We got off the bus, went to the border patrol, got our passports stamped, and successfully crossed into Togo!

First impression of Togo: lots of movement! There were a ton of cabs and taxi-motos (motorcycles that are used as taxis) with their drivers all clamoring to get our business. Funny thing was, they were all clamoring in French! It shouldn't have been surprising, seeing as the official language of all countries bordering Ghana is French, but it was a little shocking to someone who had never been in a country where a different language was primarily spoken. I was the only one of the three of us who spoke French, and I haven't studied it for a year and a half, so the beginning was a little rocky. I got much better as the week went on, but at the start it was pretty difficult. We found a cab driver who spoke a little English, so between his English and my French we managed to let him know of the bus station we were trying to go to. Or, at least, we thought he understood where we wanted to go.

We were driving along the coast in Togo, and the beaches there are the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen. The sand is white, the water is blue, there are a few gorgeous palm trees, a few fishermen with little canoes exploding with color. It was gorgeous and a wonderful welcome to Togo.

My pics of the beach are all pretty blurry because they were from the beach, but you can still see the beauty.

I'm not quite sure if our cab driver just didn't understand us or if he just had his own agenda, but he did not get us to our bus station. The ride to the station should have been about five minutes, but the cab driver kept pulling over. He would stop along the road next to random cars that apparently were driven by his friends, then try to negotiate a price for us to take the car to Cotonou. The prices he was coming up with were much more than we intended to pay, and we were not about to get in a car with a random Togolese man to take us to Benin. We were quite vocal about this to our cab driver, but he kept stopping to negotiate with other cars! I tried to tell him in French a zillion times that we wanted to take a bus, but he would just laugh, leave one car, drive about a hundred yards to the next one, then get out and start negotiating. After my exclamation that he was making me upset did nothing, we told him that if he did not take us right to the bus station we were not going to pay the 1000CFAs we had agreed upon as a price. At this point, we were sure that he knew exactly what we were talking about, and the next time he stopped by the beach to talk to a friend, we got out of the car and walked away. He followed us to demand money, but we kept walking and told him that we were not going to pay him when he did not take us to the right place. He promptly got back in his cab and started to follow us, so we crossed the street and kept walking, waiting for another cab. When we didn't see one and noticed that he had turned around and was following us again, this time with friends, we cut through a construction site by the road where he couldn't drive through. When we reached the other side, he pulled up again, and this time got out with a policeman.

Let me just pause to say that as scary as this all sounds while writing it, and as awful as it would have been in New York, I never felt unsafe. Afterwards, it was actually quite comical, and I truly don't think that these men had any bad intentions.

So the policeman, who was a tall Togolese man wearing an intimidating blue outfit and round hat, started rambling to me in French. I asked him if he spoke any English, and he exclaimed, "No! I do not speak English! You are in Togo! We speak French!" I laughed a bit, and tried very hard to make the policeman understand our situation. To him, it probably sounded like "This man say he take us to bus station, but then he talk to friends! We do not want to talk to friends, we want bus station! He try to take us car, but we do not want car! We want bus! We say we not pay him if he not take us, but he not take us! So, we get out and tell him we not pay. He not take us to bus station, so we not pay him." The policeman was actually very nice and agreeable. He listened, told us that we had already passed the station, and we still had to pay the man. We decided that arguing with him with my limited French and in a foreign country was probably not the best idea (although arguing with policemen is probably never the best idea), paid the cab driver, and walked away. 

We stumbled upon a different bus station that had some very kind people who took pity on us and helped us out. They told us that the last buses to Cotonou had already left for the day but we could take a tro-tro (called bush-taxis in other countries) for a cheap price. They tried to explain to us how to get to the tro-tro, but after a few moments of us looking incredibly confused (this was all still in French), the guys laughed and walked us into the market where the tro-tro was waiting. They left us inside, where we had to wait two hours in the heat before the tro-tro left. In those two hours, we made friends with Fred, a Nigerian who spoke English. We informed him that we were sisters from the US, our parents were Russian, and our names were Mishka (Whitney), Zorla (Holley), and Gershanka (me--but I didn't like my name, so everyone called me Shanka). He said our names were very difficult and he could not remember them. He was obsessed with Whitney and said he wanted to marry her--he was very disappointed when we told him she was already married. He loved her stature and how thin she was. I was called fat and told to run every day for 6 months to be thin like Whitney, and Holley was laughed at for eating. Needless to say, Fred was not our favorite person in the world. Hols and I gave him the cold shoulder, and Whit finally convinced him that he had been rude and had upset us and that he should leave. Fred finally left, sad that Whitney would not give him anything to remember her by. Oh, Fred the Nigerian. So silly.

The tro-tro finally left, and the trip that should have been 3 hours took about 5 and a half. The ride wasn't bad, because the scenery was beautiful. We were rather crammed in the tro-tro though. Whitney couldn't even put her legs in front of her because of lack of space, so she spent the trip sitting sideways. There was also this strange voodoo lady who was sitting in front of Whit and kept turning around and yelling things at people selling things on the street. Another lady in front of Holley and I seemed to get bored and decided to listen to music on her phone. However, she did not have headphones, so she kindly played music for us all. Her taste was unexpected--she seemed to really like "When a man loves a woman," which she played about 6 times. It was quite amusing.

Holley and Whit on the tro-tro.

Finally, as darkness was falling, we pulled into Cotonou, the capital city of Benin. We were a little nervous about getting to our hotel, but the guys driving our tro-tro were incredibly kind. We showed them on the map in our guidebooks where we wanted to go. They took the guidebook under a light and about 10 other guys surrounded them. They all started shouting and pointing in different directions, taking pauses to look at the map more. We kind of stood to the side, waiting for them to figure out where exactly we should go. Finally, the two guys from the tro-tro came back and told us they would take us to the hotel. We gratefully got back into the tro-tro and they took us right to the door of the hotel. We tried to ask them about where we should get a bus the next morning. They weren't sure, but the driver gave us his name and phone number and told us to call him any time, day or night, and he would try to help us. They were so nice!

Hotel numero uno.

We checked into our hotel and convinced the manager that we were sisters and loved each other so it was okay for us to share a bed. Then we found a bank to get a bit of money, and went across the street to a little diner-like dinner place. We each ordered huge water bottles, individual pizzas, and french fries. It was our first meal of the day and we were all getting pretty dehydrated, so it was fantastic. Our first day came to a close with us falling into bed, exhausted from day one of our adventure.

And that was just the beginning.

If you have any questions, it is your right to ask them NOW.

This weekend we went to Kumasi, the second largest city in Ghana! The trip was utterly exhausting but it we really cool to see another big city here. It seems that no two cities here are alike. Accra and Kumasi are different like New York and San Francisco are different--both are big and have lots of people, but they just feel different.

Kumasi feels much more small-town, although it is really spread out. It's really hilly, so you get some good views driving around. Although I've never been to Europe, the views reminded me of pics I have seen of cities in Europe, like in Italy. It was so pretty, especially compared to Accra. The streets were wider and there were not nearly as many people walking the streets. There also were not nearly as many little street vendors, which made it feel more homey. Kumasi is the home of the Ashanti tribe, a tribe that used to rule most of Ghana. They speak Twi!

After a five hour bus ride and a quick stop at the hotel, we went to a local craft market for shopping and lunch. We only had a half hour to walk around and see stuff, so I didn't buy anything, but then we got to have a good traditional West African lunch (lots of jollof rice, red-red, and pineapple!). After lunch, we went to the Ashanti King's palace! We got a tour of the original house that was built as the palace during colonial times. The house has now been turned into a museum where we got to see some artifacts, pictures, and some things they still use today, like the King's crystal cups used to entertain visitors. Sadly, we were not entertained by the King. He now lives in the house next door, which I'm sure is much newer. He does not meet with people unless they have some sort of special appointment, or unless it is at a festival. We saw a ton of pictures though--the Kings here wear so much gold! We weren't allowed to take pictures of anything inside, so I can't share visuals, but it was pretty cool.

After the King's palace, we went to a stool village. In the local tribes here, stools (like sitting stools) are used as a sign of power. The King's have gold stools. Other people just have them for fun and for the meaning they hold. The stools are made of wood and have some sort of symbol that they make. I'll get a picture of the stool that Holley bought in the village. You can see the symbol under the part you sit on--her's means "Unity."

Sunday we got up and went on adventures in the bus! We went to a local area for a workshop on shoe making! A guy showed us how he makes leather shoes for men. He was stretching the leather over the little shoe model, nailing it in, and adding the sole. Funny thing is, the sole says "Made in Italy." One of the girls asked him about that, and he said that people will not buy shoes made in Ghana. Our associate director, who is from Philly, broke in about how sad that was and how much she loves wearing things made in Ghana. The guy laughed, but said that hardly anything here says "Made in Ghana." Interesting...

Then we went to the market. Oh, the market. There seemed to be a few less people than the one in Accra, and it was a bit less stuff, but still absolutely insane. It was like a maze. We luckily had a few of our CRAs to lead us about and make sure we didn't get too lost. I bought some kente cloth, which is woven with bright threads into strips of geometric designs, then woven together to make bigger pieces. Kente cloth is what is used for the King's outfits. All of it is gorgeous--I might buy more.

Weirdest experience at the market: trying to find my way back to the bus with Whit and Alex, walking through an alley with stairs, and coming out in a meat market. There was a full dead, skinned pig with it's snout still on sitting in front of me. I thought the smell was going to make me sick. All three of us were vegetarians too. Needless to say, we looked down and walked as fast as possible out of the market.

The best part of the whole trip was actually the ride home. It was long (another 5 hours) but it was beautiful. We were driving through much more rural areas than we have seen, and we were just surrounded by green. Green green green. Ghanaian trees don't come in clusters or with more of their own kind. They are all over the place and of all different types. Some of them stand up really tall above the rest, others are really tiny and close to the ground. They aren't nearly as dense as trees back home, so you can really see their shapes. They are amazing. We got to see a couple of mountains with gorgeous tan rock walls going down the side, surrounded by more and more green. As it got dark, we could see the outlines of the trees on the top of the mountains. I tried to get some pictures, but nothing would capture it. Just trust me--if you ever come here, you'll want to see these views.

In other news, this week is full of midterms and papers. Then, on Thursday, my week long fall break starts! Holley, Whitney and I are traveling together, and we have quite ambitious plans (trying to go to four countries in nine days). Crazy? I'm so excited! :-D

Trying to capture the sights from the bus.

Peacocks outside the Ashanti King's Palace!

Mountains

Pictures don't do it justice.

Nice to be nice

Long time, no post! What have I been up to the past week...

Well, the past week has been a mixture of homesickness, physical sickness, and fun! At least fun was in there. Things that I am missing from home: my mom's homemade pizza, cheese, cranberry juice, and the NYC subway. And of course, hugs from my family and friends. It's weird being here now. A lot of the glamour has worn off and it's sort of setting in that this is our home. It's also weird because we're almost half way through our trip! People said the time would fly and it really is...

Last week, we went out a couple of nights and ran into some kids from Semester at Sea. Semester at Sea is a program that I think is run by UVA and that involves basically taking a cruise ship around the world for the semester. It sounds amazing. The program was stopped in Accra for five days or so, and the students had asked some locals for good places to go out. We noticed the random surge in young obrunis, and they mistook us for part of their program. It was a funny experience, meeting students who had just arrived in Accra. They looked like we did 7 weeks ago--bright eyed, talking only to each other, paying wayyy too much for everything. It was weird though, feeling like we had been here long enough to see who knew at least a bit of what was going on, and who was pretty clueless. Not trying to judge--like I said, we were there before. It's amazing how much 7 weeks will teach you.

Last Monday we went to the festival for the 100th birthday of Kwame Nkrumah (1st president of Ghana). We were old that it was going to be hugeeee and we had to be there at 8:30. So, on our day off of school, we all left our dorm at 8 and took cabs to the Kwame Nkrumah Mausoleum. We got there before 8:30, walked in, and saw that there were still chairs open! We grabbed some sweet seats in the shade, because it was already getting hot, and settled down to wait for the start.

Well, we waited for about 2 hours, before being told that we were sitting in the chairs of the Ashanti Chiefs and should probably move. We switched over to some sunny chairs where a whole group of kids was sitting with their school. We asked if we could sit with them and they said yes. After sitting quietly behind us for about 30 seconds, they started asking us questions. The initial questions of "Where are you from?" led to a host of conversations, about school, life, and games. The girls taught us some hand games, similar to "Ms. Mary Mac" and started speaking to me in French. It was hard to understand their French, partially because I haven't spoken it in quite a while, but also because they were speaking with a completely different accent. They thought we were really funny and LOVED it when we took pictures of them. One of them wanted my phone number, but I wasn't so sure about having an 12 year old friend to call up. Instead, we took more pictures!

Around noon, the parade (which apparently did start at 8, but not at the Mausoleum) started to arrive. The parade included the entrance of chiefs from various tribes from around the country. The chiefs would walk in in gorgeous outfits, with huge beautiful umbrellas being held over their heads and a party surrounding them. There were also roller skating troops, drummers, and about a zillion guys dressed in bright colors and walking on stilts. We decided to find some shade to watch the parade entrance from (4 hours of African sun can be pretty intense). While we were watching and taking pictures, we noticed a strange thing: people around us were taking pictures of US. It was very weird, because in Ghana it's considered rude to take people's pictures without asking their permission. This rule doesn't seem to apply to pictures of foreigners though. We were pretty tired and hungry, so we tried to turn away from some of the pictures. Our fans would simply shamelessly walk around so they could see our faces again, and take more pictures. When I told one guy who insisted on taking my picture that I didn't want him to, he informed me that "it's nice to be nice!" It was rather annoying, but I guess they don't seen obrunis every day.

After hours of listening to amazing drum performances, watching dancers, talking to guys on stilts, and being taught games by children, we got to see President John Atta Mills speak! He gave a quick little speech, but everyone was freaking out at being able to see him.

So that was one cool cultural experience I got to have recently!

Other things that have been fun:

Beacon House! Beacon House is an orphanage nearby that Whitney and I have started volunteering at. I'm still going to City of Refuge, but the orphanage is a lot closer, so I can go more often. I've only gone one time, because this week I was sick, but it was amazing. The kids there are in some way special needs kids because they have all been abused physically, psychologically, or sexually. One of the directors, who is probably the nicest person alive, was telling us a story about a little girl they found as an infant in an abandoned bag by a river. They apparently thought she would be blind because when they found her maggots were eating her eyes. Luckily, she has made a full recovery and is now healthy. That's just one of the many stories, some of which are that bad and some of which are not.

Whit and I got to basically just play with the kids for hours. They range from about a year to maybe 12 or 14 and there are over 30 of them there. They live in a big house with a group of Aunties who take care of them. There is a school room in the house where the older ones go to school each day. They have a trampoline in the back yard and a little sandy play area. They also have a cabinet full of board games and a bunch of books.

The funny part about all of that is that the kids didn't really want to play with us--they just wanted to be held. The younger kids especially never wanted to be put down (which is hard when there are about 10 of them who want you to pick them up constantly. We would compromise and sit with three of the kids on our laps (we made a rule that only three kids at a time) and the rest kind of just holding on to our arms. We got to read a few books and talk to some of the older girls, who loved to play with our hair. I got to hold a baby named Mary for a long long time. I thought she would be getting bored because I was just holding her, but every time I tried to put her down, she would wrap her legs and arms around me like a monkey and hold on with all of her little might.

Ah, it's making me want to cry just writing about it. The kids are so beautiful and so adorable and they just love to be with people. Conclusions from my first visit there:
1. If anyone is interested in adopting a Ghanian child, I have the spot for you.
2. Everyone should give my parents new baby clothes for Christmas, because their presents from might be in the form of African children!

Me and my new friends, the school children.

Hugeeee drum at the festival.

Beautiful women. Not sure what their dress signifies.

Men on stilts!

Chief under umbrella.

You sit and watch TV. It will be just like you are in New York!

Last week was not quite as lovely as some of the ones that preceded it. I was sick for two days, I had two papers due, and there was a robbery in the middle of the night in my friends' bedroom while they were sleeping in the room.

Needless to say, I was pretty ready for a break from life here. Since I can't exactly hop a train and go home for a weekend like when I'm in NY, I was incredibly thankful for the opportunity to do a home-stay this weekend. Home-stays offer us the chance to get to hang with a REAL Ghanian family. We were warned that life might not be as comfortable as it is here, but we were promised some necessities (a bed, running water, etc.). We were told that we should try to immerse ourselves in the experience--demand to help with chores and cooking, try to learn some new phrases, go out and meet people, etc. While I knew it might be an awkward or slightly trying experience, I also knew it could be a great way to learn more about the culture and a much-needed escape.

And what an escape it was.

I was assigned to a family with another girl in my program named Bianca. I didn't know her very well, so I was excited to get to hang out a little bit. We got picked up Friday afternoon and taken to the office where we would meet our family. While we were waiting, we made friends with a guy who said he was sad that none of the boys in our program decided to do the homestay. His wife is from the UK and is currently traveling, so he wanted a guy to keep him company. He had apparently thought that he was getting a student for the weekend, so he serviced his car and killed a cow. Sadly, none of the guys followed through with the trip. We called one of the guys to let him know what he was missing out on, and he promised to do the next home-stay. Talking to this guy in the office made us wonder what we were getting into--I certainly hoped no one had killed a cow to welcome my vegetarian mouth.

We got picked up about a half hour later by a lady named Nepare. She reminded me a little of my mom--sweet, outgoing, talkative, welcoming, just quintessentially mom-like. She had a different personality, but it was comforting to be with a motherly-figure. She lives with her husband and has three children, but the oldest just started school in the US and the two younger ones are at boarding schools in Accra. I was a little disappointed not to be with kids for the weekend, but we talked to her two daughters on the phone and skyped with her son in the US. 

The drive to her house (driven by her chauffeur) took a couple of hours because of the distance and because of traffic. She lives on the outskirts of Accra up a long, bumpy dirt road. We ended up at a beautiful white house called "Mount Pleasant." The house has a porch on the outside and overlooks the entire city of Accra. The views were absolutely amazing. At night, the lights just sparkle, and during the day, you can see miles. It was amazing (pics below).

The inside of the house is gorgeous too. Although we had been warned not to let them treat us too much like guests, we didn't really know how not to. We were given cokes, directed to relax on leather couches, and given a remote control. We got to watch some TV that we were used, like MTV. We met Nepare's husband, our dad for the weekend. He's an adorable man. Nepare and Josephine, a girl who helps with the cooking and cleaning, made us a delicious dinner of rice, a concoction of tuna and vegetables, and plantains. We skyped with their son, relaxed some more, and went to bed.

In the morning, we were going to go to a wedding with Nepare. She works as a judge in Accra, so she had to go to work for a few hours early in the morning before we could go. Unfortunately, Bianca got a call from her around 9:30 (we were going to leave at 10) saying that she had been in a car accident on her way to work and was trying to sort it all out before going to the wedding. It was just a fender bender, and everyone was fine. We were told to enjoy our breakfast and relax some more, and she would be home in a while.

After a delicious and massive breakfast, Bianca and I decided to walk down the dirt road and explore a bit. We didn't really find much in the way of shops, but we did notice some interesting differences from the area that we live in. For one thing, there are really cute baby goats all over where we were staying. They're about the size of a small dog and just the cutest thing you've ever seen. Also, while Nepare's family seems quite well-off, a lot of the people working in the shops seem to be in a very different socio-economic class. Nepare explained to us today that their area is still developing. She said that a lot of families that move to Accra end up moving into houses that are in the process of being built (so they are basically concrete shells). They don't pay rent to stay there, but it gives them a home and gives the builders some security that no one is going to steal their building materials. When the houses are finished, there are sometimes issues with the families not wanting to leave, but sometimes they just move on to another location. Anyway, another random observation is that people there were not as obsessed with Obrunis. We talked to a few of the locals and waved to all the children, but people were not running up and grabbing us, or rambling in other languages to us. It was a welcome change, but very strange.

After a wonderful little walk, Bianca and I headed back to hang out at the house. We ate some lunch (again, served right to us--so nice!) and then just rested. I spent the afternoon on the porch, looking at the scenery and reading a book. It was rejuvenating and absolutely perfect. 

Around 4, our hose parents made it back. They wanted to go to the end of the wedding reception, so we got changed into some decent clothes and piled into the car. After a quick drive, we got to the wedding. Saturday was the Christian service, not the traditional one. Since we were getting to the reception several hours late, they were just cutting the cake when we got there. The bride and groom looked beautiful and the venue was gorgeous. Everything was in gold and maroon. The cake-cutting and toast very similar to an American wedding, except the people were louder, the colors were brighter, and people were constantly dancing around. Before the toast, they opened about 6 bottles of champagne in front of everyone. The guys opening the bottles kept spraying the champagne into the air and on the floor while jumping around. After the toast, we all got to eat cake! Rum raisin...mmmmm. Then there was the procession out of the venue, and it was fantastic. Everyone stood in line to shake the hands of the bride, groom, and their families. But everyone wasn't really standing--they were dancing. The entire time the line was going, they were dancing dancing dancing. And rule number one of dancing in Africa: there are no rules. It was wonderful.

Saturday night was pretty quiet after that. On Sunday, our host family took us to Bojo beach, which is about 10 minutes from their house. We hadn't brought our bathing suits, so we just sat and relaxed for a bit. There's a little river that you have to cross on a boat to get to the beach right by the ocean, but we just stayed on the river side. It was more time to just relax and admire the beauty of Ghana.

And so ended my wondrous weekend. It was not what I probably would have asked for from a home-stay weekend, and certainly not what I would have expected, but it was absolutely glorious and just what I needed.

View of Accra from my porch at the home-stay.

Bride and groom at the wedding

Pretty little girls at the wedding.

Bianca, Nepare (my host mom) and me at the wedding

Fishing boats at Bojo beach.

Vacation, wish it would never end

We had our first weekend trip this past weekend! We left wayyy too early on Saturday morning (6:30 departure!!!) and traveled three hours to the Coconut Grove Beach Resort, which is a real beach resort. It's absolutely the most beautiful place I have ever stayed. There are palm trees, a wondrous breeze, little lizards that run around on the ground, white sand...ah. It was glorious.

Our welcome to Cape Coast was a delicious brunch. There were these amazing rolls with real jam and little croissants with chocolate fillings and omelets and beans and fresh fruit. And it was a buffet! So I got to go back about a zillion times for more. Delicious.

After brunch, we got herded back into our coach us and were driven into Elmina. I hate the bus. It's not that it is uncomfortable, but it makes us stand out like sore thumbs, as if we don't already. People just stare and point. Oh well. I love Elmina though. It's more what I thought Accra would be like the first time I came here. It's a little fishing city. All the buildings are close together and bright colors like yellows, pinks, and reds. People are everywhere and so are animals (chickens, dogs, goats, etc.). We drove past canals with a million fishing boats that are all painted bright colors too. They are beautiful.

We arrived after a little while at Elmina Castle, one of the major ports of the Transatlantic Slave Trade. We had a tour of the Castle. I had been there the last time I was here, and I remembered it so vividly. It's hard to put into words what it is like being there: incredible but absolutely terrible. It's unreal to be in the dungeons, to smell the awful scent and imagine there being three hundred more people in that single room, to see the well where the female who was chosen by the mayor would be publicly washed then snuck up a trap door to his bedroom, to be closed into a cell where belligerent slaves would be left to die, to be in the "room of no return" and see the three foot tall door through which the slaves would leave Africa forever. It's awful. It's amazing. Terrible. Like I said, no words can really capture it.

After that intense morning, we left and went to grab a quick snack. The restaurant that we were stopping at was built on stilts over a pond full of CROCODILES. Weeeeeeeeee. It was so cool! We were literally 10 feet away from them. I got some sweet pictures. It was so cool! It was one of those stereotypical "Oh goodness I'm in Africa! WITH CROCODILES!" moments. Glorious.

Then we continued out to Kakum National Park. We had a little 30 minute hike that actually was about 15 minutes, and we arrived at the renowned canopy walk. I say that it is renowned because it is one of those ways that NYU sells going to Ghana. There are pictures of people on it all over the NYU in Ghana literature. Basically, you walk on these bridges made of wood boards with rope netting on the side of you between the trees. The catch is that you are up ABOVE most of the trees, so so so high up! You are only even with the tallest trees. The bridges wobble in the wind and the ropes only come up to my elbows (most people's chests or shoulders). We got to see the absolute most amazing views in the entire world. I wish I could just go sit or lie down on the platforms on the trees for hours. It's thrilling, being so high, and it's just so gorgeous. Ahhh I want to do it again. If anyone ends up visiting me, we have to go (hint hint).

After the canopy walk, we went back to the beach resort and a bunch of us went swimming. Then we had a delicious dinner, that included some sort of seafood soup WITH CRABS. I was so excited. One of the waitresses took my bowl when I wasn't quite done, so I had to go back for more. And we had cheesecake for dessert! Ahh it could not have been better. We got to try some palm wine (which I don't even know how to describe--I think it tastes bitter? Maybe?). It's a very distinct taste. Some people loved it, some hated it. I wasn't really on either side for the night. The resort had made us a bonfire on the beach too, so we just hung around and waded in the water. One girl, Daniella, was holding a soda bottle and got knocked over by a particularly rough wave (the water was reallllly intense the whole time). She ended up falling and catching herself with the hand that was holding the soda bottle on a rock. Basically, she cut herself pretty deeply and had to go to the hospital for stitches. She's probably the sweetest person alive, so she was a really good sport about it. The rest of us made sand-castles and sand-cities for a long time, then went to bed pretty early. Sadly, another hospital visit happened that night because one of the guys, Joe, got really sick. He was a little better by the time we had to leave on Sunday, but we all felt bad that he was so sick. We seem to have had a lot more hospital visits the past few weeks with people being sick :-( Cross your fingers for us all!

Sunday, we woke up, ate wayyy more than we probably should have at the brunch buffet and went swimming. We waded in the ocean--the Atlantic Ocean, but the East Coast of it--crazy, right? But we couldn't go swimming because it was way too rough. We went swimming in the pool for a few hours before packing up to come home! We all wanted to stay longer.

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend. Now, back to the real world...of Ghana?

Crazy picture Alex took with my camera on the canopy walk.

Me on the canopy walk.
You can see how high the ropes were! That long horizontal line--that's the bridge we were walking on.
CROCODILE!
Fishing boats in Elmina.
Bats in the Castle.
Elmina. It's so beautiful, but it was really foggy out.
Elmina Slave Castle (the outside).

White Ghanians.

Eeeks, I need to post more often! Lots has happened this week so far. Take a deep breath--this is a longgg post.

Sunday we had our cooking class with the CRAs. I was being taught by Debbie, who is probably the sweetest person in the world. She taught us how to make red-red, which is beans and plantains. It's probably my favorite dish here in Ghana. One thing we realized about the food is that it is all made with a TON of oil. It's not vegetable or olive oil either, it's called palm oil and it's bright red. I think that's one of the reasons that the food here is so hard for all of us to eat--so much oil! We did use a different oil to fry the plantains. The beans were made with palm oil, garlic, ginger, onions, peppers, and tomatoes (I think), and the plantains were simply fried. We shared our food with the other houses, so I also got a lot of fruit and some eggplant soup. All of the food was incredibly good, as always!

After the cooking class, almost everyone in our program went to the World Cup Qualifying Game of Ghana vs Sudan. It was insanity. The stadium apparently holds 40,000 people, and it was overflowing. People were sitting on the stairs in every available space. Somehow, for 5 cedis (which is about $3.5), we got tickets for seats right by the field. A few people ended up having to move up, because they couldn't see what they were watching, but because I'm tall, I had no problems. It was incredible. I have never been to a professional soccer (or futbol) game, but everyone who had said that they are really different here. First of all, while probably every obruni within 50 miles came, there were still so few of us. The fans are moving absolutely the entire game. While they all took breaks, there was always thousands of people dancing. You know how at sports events in the US, people start the wave? It typically makes it around once (maybe) then dies? Here it got started, went around the entire stadium with 40,000 people four complete times (as in every single person did it), then continued for about 4 more times with half the people still going, before finally dying. Fantastic.

There were some crazy dedicated. I have a picture of one below--they paint their entire bodies and just dance around in front of everyone for the whole game. Other Ghanians would just get excited and start dancing back and forth in front of everyone. Like I said, people were always moving. The guys behind us kept getting mad when people would walk in front of us and they couldn't see. They even got mad at the cops, yelling at them to move.

There was just so much energy in the whole place. Whenever Ghana would score the people would erupt. At the end of the game, the players ran right by us and waved and people were squishing us all into the glass barrier that separated us from the field. The cops on the other side of the barrier threw a couple of extra jerseys or something over the top, and there was practically a brawl for who was going to get it. Actually, while we were trying to back up and get out of the fight, a couple of people were trying to pickpocket us. My friend Joey caught a guy right in the act and managed to keep his stuff. Parker got his wallet and phone taken, and I actually turned around and a guy was holding my insulin pump. It was the only thing in my pocket and I'm sure he thought it was a phone or MP3 player or something. I need to figure out another way to carry it in crowded places--I'm lucky he gave it back!

By the way, Ghana won 2-0. Weeeeee. A group of us decided to walk home (it took about a half hour). Most of us were wearing either tee-shirts or flags or something. Everyone we saw looked at us and yelled, "GHANA GHANA GHANA!!!" People were so excited! At one point, we got called "white ghanians." It was glorious. 

So my Sunday was really great. I could not have asked for a more amazing experience or more amazing food.

Monday was pretty amazing too. For my Global Connections class, we went on a field trip to what my professor called "Danish Osu." It's called that because that is where the Danish set up trade forts in pre-colonial times, and where they had slave forts. We had done some reading about it before going, so it was pretty insane to actually see the places that we were reading about. There were 16 of us on the trip, so it was hard to hear the guy leading us (who is an architecture  professor I think at UG). All the sudden, we looked up and we were at a slave castle right by the water. It was kind of startling. The castle was originally a trading post, then taken over by locals, and eventually reclaimed by the Danes. Then, it became a slave castle where slaves were kept before being marched out to the sea and taken across the Atlantic. Now, it actually is where the government resides. Ironic? We weren't allowed to take pictures, since it is a government building. At one point when walking back, Sarah pointed out that there were holes in the huge stone wall surrounding the castle. Sticking through the holes were guns, with guys constantly holding them, ready to fire if attacked. Right outside the walls, all these little children were playing soccer and running around. The two pictures shouldn't really fit together, but they did...

We also went walked through some of the old original Danish houses. Now, they are homes to local people. It was weird, walking with a group of 16 obrunis though these people's houses and just staring at the architecture. The people were all really nice, but the level of poverty was just so apparent, and we were walking around in our nice clothes with our nice jewelry and nice bags...it's just hard. It's had to see people living in such slums and feel like you're just a tourist (which we really were).

Overall though, it was really interesting. I wish all history classes were like this--you read about something, then go see where it took place. Alas, they are not, so I must make the most of this one while I can.

Tuesday I went to my internship again! To get there, I rode in a trotro! Trotros are kind of like mini-buses and the major form of public transportation here. They seat about 25 people and go from one stop to another, making a few other stops along the way. To get from Accra to Tema, it cost me less than one cedi, whereas it would have cost 12 or 13 cedis in a cab. The one issue with trotros is that they can take quite a while to leave, because they wait until they are full to leave. So, for the ride back, we had to wait almost 45 minutes in the trotro to leave. It's going to take some getting use to, but it was actually decently comfortable to ride in and a really easy way to get back and forth from City of Refuge. The trip will take at least 40ish minutes each way, so I think I'm only going to be able to go one day a week. That's okay though, because it sounds like I'm going to get to do a lot of research-type things, which I have to do here anyways (where I can get internet).

So for my internship, I got to work with one of the two little boys who doen't know enough English to go to school yet for a little while. He knows the colors pretty well, but doesn't yet know all of the letters in the alphabet. John and Rachel are going to be working with both him and the other boy during the days to get them up to speed so that they can start school as soon as possible.

The rest of the kids started school on Tuesday. Apparently, they thought they were starting on Monday, and were all so excited that they got up at 2am and put their uniforms on. They were quite disappointed when the bus did not come to get them at 6:30 Monday morning. Tuesday they were all just as excited though, and the two boys who didn't get to go were apparently quite sad. It was a strange experience working with the little boy, because I was doing things that I'm used to doing in Jumpstart with 3 year olds. He has just never been taught English, and he's trying really hard to learn (I think he's 7 or 8). I really hope he catches on quick, because I know he wants to be at school with the rest of them.

After that, I talked to John and Rachel for a long time about the story of City of Refuge and what their role is going to be there. Like I said, I think a lot of what I'm going to be doing is research-oriented and doing things like recording data electronically. They're going to be doing a lot to try to further develop the organization, so I'm going to get to help a lot with it. It's going to be an interesting experience--I don't think it will be especially structured, because there is just so much to do but we don't really know what to start with or what things that we see as issues are really just cultural differences. I'm excited though--I think I'll really get to see the impact of my work, and it's a really intimate organization.

Then the other kids got home. When we asked if they learned anything in school, they all said, "Noooo, tomorrow! Tomorrow we will learn!" I ended up playing with one little boy for a long time, just rolling a tire back and forth and seeing how far it could go. Apparently the kids don't really have toys, but Rachel was saying that she didn't see that as a problem. They seem to be able to amuse themselves quite well, and they aren't even concerned about toys. I think I'm going to make some play-doh to take in on Tuesday. If anyone is interested in sending me a package with some stuff for these kids though, let me know. I talked to John and Rachel and we came up with a list of some things the kids could use. I'm going to double check the list before telling anyone what to send, but it would be so wonderful to be able to help them out. 

If anyone wants to look at the website for the organization, it's http://www.cityofrefugeoutreach.com/City_of_Refuge/Freedom_Has_A_Face.html

I think that is actually a page within the website, but you can explore it and see what they do. It's pretty amazing.

Then today I had my music and dance class, and it was the first one where we actually danced! Aka, the first one where I got to make a complete fool of myself! At least I'm not the only one who can't dance very well. We learned three different parts--one that was a step, one that is a shoulder movement, and one that is a hand movement. Each one individually was not a big deal, but doing them all together was wayyy beyond me. It was really fun though, and a decent little work-out. A bunch of us girls in the class are hanging out tomorrow night for bonding time, and we're going to try to practice it some so that we can learn the new stuff next week. The teachers were really nice though--a bunch of our Professor's students from a dance group or something came to help out. They kept saying "Smile for me! Smileeee!" And I did.

The crowd at the game.

A few of the players right after the game.
Me and Holley eating FanIce, aka the greatest thing ever invented. It's like little bags of fluffy ice cream. Mmmm so good! And only about 15 cents a bag.
One of the crazy dedicated fans.
Cooking! The beans were in the red schtuff, and you can see us frying plantains.