6/17

All I can say about the plane ride was that it was very difficult. Crying babies, cramped spaces, twisted ankle… and eleven hours. By the time we exited the plane, my ankle was so swollen and stiff that I was offered a wheelchair by the airport staff. It looks pretty ugly, but the more I walked the less pain I was in. Michelle, as usual, was a great friend who waited on me and even carried my bags (in addition to her own!).

The airport was very different than ours. Bare bones, I would say. It was clean but quite small and there was no extraneous furniture or places for people to sit. However, it was staffed very well and once we got our bags from the baggage terminal, staff helped us get it to the bus.

Dr. Sossou, who is leading this trip, met us and allowed us to use her phone to contact family and let them know we had arrived safely. I called Zach, but couldn’t stay on too long because the other women also needed the phone.

I spent the rest of the day trying to find a way to communicate, with little luck. I have very limited internet access because I have to pay for it, and because the service is spotty. My cell is not working at all, although I hope this will be corrected in the next few days, as we paid for some service.

We unpacked. Our room is really large, with big closets for us both. We have a small balconey, and are very close to our communal bathroom at the end of the hall. I will say that the rooms could be cleaner, but they are not disgusting either. The bathroom situation is what I think will bother me the most about Ghana, because the toilets don’t like to flush and the water is not heated., plus our bathroom is crawling with ants… This is as close to camping as I ever intend to get. : )

We met Francis, a gentleman who works at the hostel, who was willing to show all of us American students around all day. He was nothing but respectful, helpful, and kind. He gave us a tour of the mall and outdoor market, asking us continuously, “Does this make you happy? Are you bored? Are you sad? Be happy, you are in Ghana! I want for you to be happy...” in the most genuine tone, repeatedly throughout out trips.

Francis took us to an outdoor bar in the heart of the market. The outdoor market was very different, consisting of hundreds of small shacks all running together in a large circle churning with traffic. It was hot and dark, and there were little kittens running around the dirt floor of the bar. (I have yet to see a pet, but there are a lot of strays here in Accra). Francis seemed to find it curious that I kept cooing at the kittens, but he did not say anything or make fun of me. Instead, he told us about how he was working at the Bani Hostel in order to save enough money to continue his university studies in political science. He explained that it was very difficult to collect the funds, but he still wanted to pursue his education.

When we sat down at the table, large plastic bowls of water were set down for us to wash our hands in. We ordered our meal, without actually knowing what it would be since the names for food are different. Our plate turned out to be fried dough and spicy tilapia. Francis assured me that it was proper to eat with your hands, so I dug in. ‘WAIT!” he said. “Your hands, your hands…”

“I washed!” I insisted. After a few moments we figured out my faux pas, using my left hand to eat with, which is considered impolite. Once I explained to Francis that we did not have this rule in the U.S., he only laughed and said not to worry, not to worry.

Michele and I received a large plate directly in front of us. We did not understand that the plate we were served was met for our entire table, which included Francis. After eating our fill of the delicate but spicy hot fish and dough, we looked up at Frances, who was sitting across from us looking amused. We asked him where his food was. He shyly gestured toward the ravaged plate.

We apologized profusely, but he did not care. He attitude of giving did not seem like a strict cultural adherence, but rather a genuine lack of concern for his appetite over ours. “I am happy that you like it so!” he announced, before plunging his hands into the remains of the fish.