taking it to the bank

the day after swearing in, peace corps was to deposit our pay and
settling in allowance into our bank accounts. several of us went to
the city to withdraw some of our money.
we walked into the bank and realized, whoops, peace corps never taught
us how a bank in GHANA works! so we stood there for a moment, not
sure if we needed to fill out a slip or get in a line, and which line
do we use? so we decided to wait in a line and hope it was correct.
it was very clear that we were quite confused, and as usual, the white
people in the room became the center of attention.
what? the obrunis don't know how to use a bank?
so after waiting in line for a little while, i walked up to the
teller. i told him i would like to withdraw 100 ghana cedis. i
handed him my account number.
then the teller informs me that the balance in my account is zero, and
if i take out money, it will be negative 100 ghana cedis.
i ask him to check my friends' accounts, and both of them are zero as well.
the rich white foreigners a) don't know how to use a bank, and b) have
NO money in their accounts.
and that, my friends, is what peace corps is all about: breaking down
the stereotypes that exist in this world.

more about food

although fried rice isn't actually ghanaian, it is very easy to find
here. after a long day of traveling, there's just nothing like
finding a stand with good fried rice.
i have grown to like it just the way it comes.
in a plastic bag:
fried rice
a chicken leg
a sliced hard boiled egg
a squirt of ketchup
a squirt of mayonaise
a scoop of shito, a fish based spicy sauce
a few shreds of lettuce
if you want to be american when you eat it, dump it into a bowl and
use a fork. or, if you don't care, just bite the corner off the bag
and squish it into your mouth.

this is why i now carry things on my head

one of the requirements peace corps takes very seriously is the use of anti-malarial medication. the one i am taking can have some wacky side-effects, such as vivid dreams and nightmares. fortunately, i have not experienced much of these problems.
another side-effect of mefloquine, one they didn't talk about much, is a difference in sensitivity to sun. i only found out about this a couple weeks ago.
i had wondered how i had been living in ghana for so long, rarely wearing sunscreen, and barely getting burnt. somehow mefloquine decreases sensitivity to the sun.
which is quite the dramatic change for me, of course.
so, a couple days ago, perhaps i had grown lazy. perhaps it was carelessness. a sense of invincibility? anyway. i was outside FAR too long. in the direct sun. i didn't feel like i was burning, so i stayed out.
my back is now covered with GIANT juicy blisters. i can't even remember the last time i was burnt this badly. i can barely sleep at night because i have to lay on my back. i can hardly carry my backpack for the pain.
and yesterday, a random man named charles came over to us at dinner and introduced himself. he was very friendly and jolly and welcoming...
and SLAPPED me on the back as a greeting.
it was all i could do not to cry. or scream.

convenience stores

ghana makes the drive-thru window seem like a slow way of buying things.
here, if you are on a bus or in a taxi and say, feel hungry, or
urgently need to buy a toothbrush, just look around. at the station
or at whatever intersection you are waiting, chances are, people are
selling that item from their heads.
you just wave them over and purchase away! never even have to leave
your seat, and certainly no waiting.
what if the vehicle starts moving before your purchase is complete?
no problem. the seller just runs alongside your taxi or bus and
finishes things up!
plantain chips, pure water, fanice, toothbrushes, towels, hats, you
name it: it's available.
i think we all agree. this is one of the things that america SHOULD
start doing!

address

i don't remember if i mentioned this, but i have a new and better
address for you to use for all those letters and packages (ahem,
birthday...) that you are sending.
please just email me (or my mom) if you want it. letters and packages
should work fine at the new address.
i'll always be able to receive mail at the address on the right; it's
just that i'll be a two-day trek from accra, so this will help mail to
arrive more quickly.

my homestay family!

hese pictures are of my homestay family.

the kids are fatayiah (12), fatimah (7), xena (5), and little brother, named something like swale (2?).

the adults are my homestay uncle/brother, and my aunt and perhaps her sister.

it's too hard to figure out how everyone is related. i've started just calling them all brother and sister.

i don't have a picture of mother/grandmother.

i'll work on getting a picture of the whole family together.

problem is, each week or two, we seem to add another member.

see why i'm confused?

yes, i did.

my friend elyse and i decided to get our hair braided. for mine, it took six hours. and lots of weave. i made many friends, as the entire village seemed curious about that white girl getting braids. here are some pictures.

the two small girls are margaret and her sister (whose name i've forgotten). they were our "translators" and sat with me the entire six hours. the taller woman is the hairdresser. she and another woman spent six hours on my hair and only charged me 4 GHc. that's like three dollars. the weave was 3.50 GHc. putting me at a total of 7.50. what a steal. the other lady in the picture is a friend i made, mercy. she came in to have her hair brushed, but stayed for several hours. i think she was entertained by the whole scene. her daughter was with her, playing around the shop, and every so often coming up to me and touching my toe to see why it looked different than hers.

the daughter's name is davida. mercy told me to show this picture to all of my american friends, because she has no husband, just a baby, and if some nice american man wants to marry her, please, could i help her find him? certainly. this is my official attempt.

slightly different than america

"i should be home before it gets dark. there are three funerals this
weekend in asafo, so things are going to be WILD."
this was my completely legitimate reason for my leaving the party at 6pm.

first class tickets

the other day, my friend and i were returning from a remote village
back to a larger town. we were waiting for our tro-tro to fill, so we
set our bags on a seat and then sat outside on a bench. it was market
day in this small village, and we watched as people loaded up the
tro-tro with their purchases.
a couple of goats were tied up and stuck under the back seat. a
basket of chickens was tossed on the roof. a few bags of yams were
thrown on top. then the driver asked if he could move our bags forward
a few rows in the tro-tro. we said it was no problem, but why?
he was worried that the live goats he was tying on the roof of the
tro-tro would urinate on us.
when they finally got the eight or so goats tied (by a single rope
around the neck) to the rack on top of the van, we were ready to go.
15-20 people climbed in. 4-5 climbed on the roof. and off we went.
over every single bump we heard the goats cry.
every so often the driver would look back to make sure none of the
goats (or people, for that matter) had fallen off.
two hours later, we alighted, and it's probably best i didn't look to
see the condition of our goat friends tied on the roof.

fish: it's what's for dinner.

i realized i had begun to adjust to life in ghana when, one day at
lunch, i no longer had a craving for pizza or nachos or lasagna, but
for bofu.
don't get me wrong: i would still LOVE to have any of those other
cheesy items of goodness, but i'm becoming more realistic.
my friend sonya and i started the craving game way too early into our
time in ghana. after only a week or so, we were already describing
which american foods sounded perfect at that moment. and we were
really good at it: a plate of nachos with cheese and salsa and
guacamole and a margarita. or a slice of cheesecake with a big glob
of whipped cream on top. or simply, a glass of milk.
but then, one day, i realized that i knew i wouldn't get those things
for a very long time. and at that moment, bofu sounded wonderful.
bofu is basically a fried dough ball, sold from roadside kiosks or off
someone's head, for about 10 to 30 cents each.
or you can get cocoyams with pepe, which are fried potato-like things
with a side of spicy hot pepper sauce. they are about the same price.
egg sandwiches are always a safe bet. you order the sandwich from a
lady with a stand at the side of the road. you order based on how
much you want to pay, say "two eggs and three thousand bread." what
you get is two eggs cooked up with tomatoes and onions on a huge thick
piece of bread. the eggs are 30 pesewas each, and three thousand
refers to 30 pesawas of bread, so we're at 90 pesawas (60 cents or so)
for a very satisfying meal.
from roadside stands (or the tops of peoples heads) you can also get
fried rice, groundnuts (peanuts), bananas, corn, bread, etc.
and let me mention, the items i have described are those items i will
actually eat.
but the best of all of these is fanmilk. these are little plastic
bags of ice cream frozen goodness, and they simply rescue any ghana
food disaster day.