NEW

I’ve survived my first week back to a 8-4:30 job, and I even went in early and stayed late a couple of times (great for me because we get comp time--every extra hour worked goes to more vacation time!). We’re in the middle of a ‘circuit ride’ here in Ghana, which means we’re processing refugees by doing a series of three interviews in preparation for their interviews with immigration officers (DHS/formerly INS) who make the decision if they get to come to the US. Basically, I’m a glorified form filler, paper pusher, private investigator, genealogist, social worker. I should get to travel around West Africa for circuit rides, though there don’t seem to be as many planned in the near future as I would like…I hope to travel abroad once before Christmas…(that’s when you can really get lots of comp time!)

Each day, Jane and I are on the lookout for something new that we’ve never seen before. Jane has reported an albino rooster, a soccer match in Ghana at the stadium, a peacock (I forget what else).

I saw an old woman dressed nicely walking down a busy street barefoot; her shoes were balanced on the top of her head.

I saw a fight take place in a parking lot yesterday. A man was yelling at a woman because she brought a couple of friends with her when he invited her out; they just wanted to ‘spend his money’ (because culturally he’d be expected to pay, even for the friends she brought). The man chased her around the parking lot; she hid behind some other men she didn’t know. When she dropped a plastic bag with some clothes in it, the man picked it up and threw it into the air. He even grabbed a rock, as if he was going to hit the woman with it. Finally, another man ‘took the fight’ and started to yell at him for his behavior and for trying to beat the woman. I stood around and watched, like all the Ghanaians who happened to be passing by.

I saw a shopping mall in Ghana (didn’t even know they existed) and two free range turkeys in Osu (to keep with Jane‘s bird theme). I rode in a taxi with A/C and electric windows (and a great driver). I tasted a ginger drink, fiery hot from the local gin called apeteshi that is mixed with it. I learned to play canasta.

Jane and I bought paint on Saturday. After six months in this house, the lime green (or is it chartreuse?) walls I liked so much in the beginning have got to go. Jane has described the hideous yellow color on her walls as “the outside part of a hard boiled egg yolk, before the yolk has been broken open.” You know, it’s kind of greenish, but yellow. All the trim in the house is bright yellow. My walls are…sea green blue? Turquoise? I’ll wait to paint them till another time. Painting will do plenty for our mental sanity. If only we could also make our bar downstairs stop with the live music…but since it’s been going on for at least 20 years, I doubt that’ll happen. (Instead, we’ll have to look for friends’ couches and extra beds to crash on weekly, like we did this past Thursday).

Our roommate Rachel is left on Sunday. She moved in right after I left for my travels, so though she’s lived in this house for roughly two months, I’ve only been around for about two weeks of that time. I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to bond! The new roommate is likely to be her French Canadian photo journalist colleague at Journalists for Human Rights. I’ve never met him, but word on the street is that he‘s ‘dreamy.’

I went bowling on Saturday night. That was a first in Ghana. I scored a 94, then a 60. The high score after five people played two games each was Jane’s 106. Pathetic. But we’ll undoubtedly improve because we became Gold Card Members at the bowling alley for the next year! Just after signing up, three of us were blessed with strikes. There’s no where to go but up.



FROM TWO GOOD BOOKS ABOUT WEST AFRICA

“‘Still trying to find your way around Sierra Leone with a map of Indiana?’ asked Killigan.”
White Man’s Grave, by Richard Dooling

“People ask me now, ‘What was Africa like?’ I tell them that the place I came to know is laughing yet troubled, strong yet crippled, and dancing. Africa was like nothing I had known before, until I knew it better.”
Nine Hills to Nambonkaha, by Sarah Erdman