We had roughly two hours in Amsterdam to wander and relive some of my memories from a year and a half prior when one of my good college buddies and I had stayed for three days in the city. We visited one of the old hostels, snagged a map, and took in the amazing architecture and city layout of the city of canals; well, that’s what I did. Debi was mostly too busy scouting the (unfortunately non-peak hour) hookers in the red light district and taking photos of condom shops. Of course, despite the early hour, we also couldn’t help but enjoy a Heineken from the city in which it was born.
After a solid few hours in Amsterdam, we took the train back to Schiphol Airport and boarded our flight to the final destination, Ghana. It was a seven hour flight, which surprised us in its length. Debi summed it up best: “I guess that makes sense; Africa’s a big country.” I can see it now immortalized next to one of Mandela’s slogans. At any rate, our flight over the western part of the enormous “country” of Africa featured almost exclusively sleeping and reading. Debi, of course, fraternized with her neighbor, a dentist in London headed to Ghana to visit relatives in the town in which he was born. After a rude greeting from the 85 degree and 110% humidity (for anyone who thinks that is a mathematically impossible number, come to Ghana in the summer), we collected our bags and had a much more pleasant greeting from Whit, the owner of Burro where we are working, and his brother Max, who is writing his next book on the company.
The dynamic duo, whose feisty relationship reminds me of me and my brother's, gave us a brief tour of the city of Accra (uh-kraw {I’m no linguistics expert, but I think that sufficiently conveys the pronunciation}), but it was pretty late in the evening. We got our first taste of the aggressive selling that occurs on the streets and in the markets of Ghana -- little did we know it would be nothing compared to the next day. A man named Alberto, at least according to the paintings he tried to sell me, bombarded us as we tried to get cash at an ATM, and soon his buddies were on to the plot too. The thing about being in Ghana -- it isn’t difficult for the vendors to spot us as the tourists. And their style is just slightly more aggressive than the fireworks dealers on the Indian reservation in Anacortes, or the flea market traders in Mexico. At any rate, we somehow avoided making any purchases knowing we were heading for the market the next day.
The market was the story of day two in Africa, but first we had some logistical business to take care of. We purchased phones, simcards and credits for less than 50 cedi each ($1 = 1.4 cedi). Next stop was the cultural center, a compact assembly of wooden structures with various types of roofs. Unfortunately, there are no pictures since “looking is free” but for some reason it costs to take photos. We came away with some great purchases at dirt-cheap prices, including a set of masks originally quoted at 50 cedi for two small ones and eventually (after a half an hour of haggling/chatting/walking away) whittled down to 11 cedi for two small ones and a larger one. Of course, Debi bought all order of cloth items and was the last one ready to leave. The whole hour-plus was an experience for the eyes, ears and nose -- mostly, but not all pleasant.
Next, we took a miniature driving tour of some major parts of Accra. We saw two soccer stadiums, which we planned a tentative return trip to, and the location where Obama was going to speak when visited before fear of adverse weather drove him elsewhere. We also saw the center where the Ashanti and English gold exporters are based in downtown Accra. Our next stop before heading to Koforidua was the grocery store and the Accra Mall. It wasn’t a whole lot different than our malls, although we were warned that it’s pretty much one-of-a-kind in Ghana. Koforidua apparently has far less in terms of selection. One other major difference was the crowd gathered for the soccer game -- I took a quick peek and watched Drogba’s free kick get deflected and then moved on to the grocery store. The grocery store wasn’t anything special, but it was fun to check out the ludicrous prices -- both on the expensive and on the cheap side. For instance, a can of Red Bull (for whatever reason) cost only $1.50, whereas toothbrushes ran around $8.00 each. Despite (or because of?) my recent degree in economics it is beyond me to explain that.
After collecting the necessities at the store we moved on to the open road, taking what Whit describes as the “longcut” to what Whit calls “Kof-town.” The longcut, as I understand it, is a longer road that is actually much faster due to the intense traffic on the highway. It was also neat to go through numerous suburbs of Accra, varying in size and affluence but not so much in design. Perhaps the most fun part was scouting the different strange religious names; the winner of the contest was probably “Jesus Christ is Alive Auto Electronics Shop.” Anyways, Debi freaked out every time anyone saw an animal other than a chicken, which meant mostly goats and dogs. Every time traffic stopped, villagers came to our windows to sell us goods from large boards balanced on top of their heads. Eventually, we escaped the suburbs, which had begun to wear on us for their traffic, and began the ascent of Ghana’s version of a mountain.
Really, the “mountain” was no such thing, except perhaps compared to those in North Carolina. We reached our midpoint respite quickly -- a hotel on the side of the ridge with a pool and a shaded outdoor restaurant. After enjoying our meals, a little lizard chasing, and the amazing view back down the mountain towards Accra, it was on to Koforidua, the town of 100,000 where we would be staying. We pulled in a little after four after racing what turned out to be an imaginary rainstorm. We met Rose, our host and Burro coworker, and unloaded our stuff. In terms of volume, I’d guess 40% of our luggage is dedicated to school supplies (my mom’s doing), sporting goods (my doing), and toothbrushes (our dentist’s doing) to give to the kids of Koforidua. All I did upon arriving was unload, change, and play wiffleball in the near-dark with a few of the children who live in Rose’s neighborhood. My goal before we leave is to teach them the art of running the bases... Aim high.
Today we were able to sleep in and my young wiffleball-playing friends were not around because Sunday is church day. After a light breakfast and my first bucket shower in Africa, we headed in to the office, which is the only place we get internet access. I checked in on sports news (PSA: Kobe > Bron, as I've always said), checked email, etcetera for the first time since London. For lunch I had plantains, chicken and a spicy black eyed peas dip. It was good so long as the dip was spread across everything. Afterwards, we hit the market to pick up fruits, vegetables, and other produce for Debi's cooking ventures she hopes to undertake. The main spicy ingredient in food here is "gravy," a mix of red peppers, tomatoes, and tomato paste (and it is what was mixed with the beans in my lunch). We now have some chicken and all the ingredients to make gravy, as well as some locally grown fruits (all told: less than $10). I have a feeling I'll be losing some weight here coming off of my Bud Light Diet (TM).
Soon we are headed to our first gong gong, which is essentially a town meeting. We (Burro) is trying to branch out into different villages and this is one effort to do so -- running a town meeting to explain the principles of the company to them and allow for questions. We are going to head there now, but I would love email/facebook/twitter updates on everyone else's summers as well and I will do my best to answer personally whenever I have time.
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