Adventure Ho(Hoe)!

Once again, I apologize for keeping any of you (mom and dad) in suspense while waiting for another update.  70% of the reason behind the delay is that I didn’t have much to discuss since last Wednesday, and 30% is because I had to study for two final exams this week. And these blogs take roughly 4 hours to complete.

You’re welcome.

Shortly after posting last week’s entry, I received a letter.  On the front of the envelope in red, menacing block letters was “ELECTION MATERIAL. PLEASE EXPEDITE.” Sure enough, inside the envelope was my absentee ballot for the Presidential election. It was mailed out on October 17th, arriving November 14. So yeah. KissExpedite my ass, Nassau County.

Not sure if it’s legal for me to be posting a picture of my ballot.

I managed to squeeze in a trip to Beacon House the next afternoon, and not much happened other than a quick game of ‘Run Away from Prince!’ Unfortunately, the game ended in disaster:

The Anguish of Prince: Part XXVII

Who would ever cry over not being able to catch me? Me?!

Just toddlers, apparently.

That Friday morning I departed with 2 other friends for the Volta Region in eastern Ghana, bordering Togo.  It’s probably the most naturally beautiful region of Ghana I’ve visited so far, with rivers, lakes, and mountains sprinkled throughout.

We arrived in Ho (let’s attempt to contain the immaturity…I may have struggled to) after maybe 3.5 hours and caught a connecting tro tro to Kpando (‘k’ is silent) where our first two points of interest were located.  After lunch we began our supposedly 1 mile trek to the Blues of Ur, a meditation/prayer center described in my guide book as “the most bizarre tourist attraction in Ghana.” That’s all I needed to know.

Tourism! Tourism!! Tourism!!!

After wandering aimlessly along the road for much more than 1 mile, we finally arrived.  There was more aimless wandering while trying to find the exact location of the meditation center, bringing us through cornfields and semi-creepy, seemingly abandoned homes.  Once we stumbled upon located where we needed to be, we were led by a very informative lady through the center, comprising a shit ton of Virgin Mary/Jesus statues and shrines. Did I say informative? Cause she actually knew absolutely nothing. Like when the statues were built.

Please enjoy these pictures of Jesus and Mary:

Ah, the Virgin Mary. What a cutie

Jesus! Lookin good, buddy!

Our next stop was Kpando Potters, a small pottery village filled with wonderful ladies. Their products were really beautiful (and cheap), and I easily would have purchased more than I did if I had more room in my bag/didn’t have a poor history with transporting pottery back home.  I don’t remember half of what I’ve purchased as gifts these past few months, but hopefully it’s enough for me to avoid the belittlement of my mother.

Not likely.

On our way to our final destination of the day, Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary, our taxi driver may or may not have ran over a child’s foot.  Can’t be sure. There wasn’t any crying, but he may have just been in shock. I guess it wasn’t too serious because we were back on the road soon after. A few minutes later we were flagged down by a man who needed to get his daughter to the hospital. Luckily for me, the mother/sick child sat next to me in the back of the taxi. When the girl wasn’t breastfeeding, she was coughing all over me. ‘Cause that’s just my life.

We chose to stay the night at Tafi Atome and take advantage of the $10/person accommodation, dinner, breakfast, and sanctuary tour deal that’s offered there.  For that price I guess we shouldn’t have been surprised by the lack of working toilets/showers.  But at least there was a squatty potty (hole in the ground)! We had dinner with a group of Canadian/European volunteers who coincidentally were part of Projects Abroad, the organization I volunteered with when I went to Peru and Botswana. This is one of the rare times that I’ve expressed more enthusiasm over finding something in common with strangers than the other person(s).  Unfriendliness I can appreciate. I took this chance encounter as a sign that next summer I need to volunteer again somewhere.  Maybe in Asia. We’ll see.

We woke up at 5:30 the next morning for our 6:00 monkey encounter. Upon waking up I noticed that my throat was sore and my nose stuffy. Uh oh! That sick baby infected me! Maybe. I don’t know. But that baby did cough on me a lot.

look at those faces!

It wasn’t so bad, and nothing was going to diminish my excitement over seeing monkeys. We + the Projects Abroad crew were taken to pick up some bananas, learning along the way that the sanctuary is home to over 400 Mona monkeys.  The guide did some kind of monkey call, and almost immediately roughly 6-8 of the little guys scampered down from the trees looking extremely confused and slightly petrified. Or maybe that’s just how their faces always look. Anyway, by the time we ran out of bananas, 2-4 monkeys had climbed all up on me. And it was awesome.

After a hearty breakfast of pasta and bread served on Barack Obama plates (!!), we were on our way to our next destination, HoHoe(pronounced Hohoy). To get to the junction to catch a tro tro, we needed to take a motorbike. I never thought I’d ever ride on the back of a motorcycle, but Africa seems to be the only place I’m willing to do somewhat cool/ridiculous things.

We took a taxi from HoHoe to Wli (Vlee) Falls where we’d be staying the day/night.  After spending about an hour hotel hopping, trying to find one that wasn’t horrifyingly expensive, we settled on one that cost us a steep $6.00/person.

The falls were about a 40 minute leisurely stroll away through a forest and across 9 bridges. The falls itself instantly became one of the most stunning places I’ve visited in my life; I’m always a sucker for a beautiful view. It probably wasn’t the wisest decision for me to swim in the freezing water with my clothes on while sick, but when do I ever make good decisions? Wait. Probably 92% of the time.

There was a minor incident while hiking up to an observation point; We were accosted by an excessively angry guide who demanded that we pay an extra $1.50 for hiking up there. We weren’t having any of that nonsense. But later on there was a lot of yelling in foreign languages and we decided to just throw money at them and leave.

We decided to head back to Accra a day early since we saw pretty much everything there was to see, and because money supplies were becoming an issue. I’m always down for saving money, so by 4:30 we were on our way!

Except it took 2 hours for the tro tro to leave HoHoe. To make the ride extra enjoyable, I was in the middle of a row that should not have squeezed 4 people into, and my nose and throat were rapidly deteriorating. Needless to say, by the time we arrived on campus at around 11:30 PM, I was ready to never use Ghanaian public transportation ever again.

The next few days were mostly spent procrastinating studying and expelling phlegm and mucus from my body. I had an interview Tuesday afternoon with the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars for an internship position I arbitrarily applied for a few days earlier. It was advertised as a “Development Internship” so I assumed international development would be involved and so I didn’t actually read the internship description. Turns out development can also refer to fundraising. Whoops. Anyway, a combination of my extreme inability to get through an interview, a poor cell connection, and my stuffy nose resulted in a 20 minute trainwreck that revealed just how unqualified I am for any job. When I was asked to describe my strengths and weaknesses, I should have just replied with, “Well, I possess the obedience of an attention-deprived puppy who’s willing to do just about anything to receive a treat, but I lack any beneficial skills that would appeal to you or any employer anywhere in the world. Ever. Am I hired?” I won’t be holding my breath for a formal offer for the position next week.

I had two final exams this week, starting with Development Studies on Wednesday and Twi on Thanksgiving Thursday. Twi was much more disastrous than I was expecting. It turns out that the class I mocked a few weeks ago made up 10% of the exam. I figured that lesson was completely useless and didn’t study it at all, which wasn’t my brightest move. Eh. Whatever. Ghana’s weird and all you need is an 80 (sometimes a 70) to receive an ‘A.’ Not gonna worry about it too much.

CIEE just loves spoiling us and organized a Thanksgiving dinner for everyone at a really nice restaurant. Since cooking isn’t something my family excels at, Thanksgiving  has been spent at a restaurant for a majority of the past 10 years. Turns out that eating at a kosher restaurant on Thanksgiving is just about as miserable as it sounds. I forced my family to actually put in some effort and have dinner at home 2 years ago, resulting in this:

Cranberry…sauce?

This was supposed to be minestrone soup.

The food consumed at this restaurant was magnificent. There was turkey, chicken, stuffing, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, rice, and salad, ending with apple pie. I had everything twice. This was just a prelude to the food rampage I will embark on 25 days from now. Look out, every pizza establishment within a 5 mile radius of my house!

I woke up from my food coma on Friday morning, got myself together and went to Beacon House, where I got to witness the kids being woken up by throwing them on the trampoline. The results were pretty miserable:

So much misery

Later that night, I was interrupted from my plans of catching up on Grey’s Anatomy and working on this gem of an entry by some friends inviting me to a fake-birthday party, which was basically just an excuse to consume copious amounts of alcohol. Here are some highlights of the night:

  • I played flip cup for the first time, and was shockingly fantastic. Maybe it’s because I was substantially less intoxicated then some of the other participants at this time.
  • Cheers, Governor (governah?)!  is just a ridiculous game that was the downfall of many, including myself.
  • Absinthe was poured into my beer at one point, and it was probably the most disgusting thing I’ve ever consumed. It’s also green. And was apparently also illegal for a long time in the US. Didn’t know that at the time, but I can understand why it was outlawed. It’s diabolical.

This was probably the first night that I can say I was definitely drunk, and will probably be the last. Can’t let myself become too much of a real 20 year old.

We’re getting down to the wire here, folks. 25 more days! I’ll be traveling for a week to northern Ghana starting on Monday on a quest to see some elephants and hippos and other cool northern Ghanaian attractions. By the time I get back I’ll only have 2 weeks left here, which is unreal to think about. I’ll probably have one more update to talk about next week’s trip, and maybe a final entry for some concluding thoughts and reflections.

And then my blog will probably spiral into oblivion, since my normal life consists of little that’s worth writing about. But who knows? Maybe some of my willingness to be a semi-fun person will carry over to next semester.

But that’s pretty doubtful.

Here’s some Ray LaMontagne to brighten your afternoon

The Time I Attempted to Travel Alone…And Failed

For those of you who have waited eagerly each week for new posts, who would wake up every Sunday morning and immediately check to see if new tales of my adventures have been shared, well…I’m sorry you couldn’t find something better to spend your Sunday mornings doing these past 3 months.  In all seriousness, I apologize for the delay in this latest update, but the traveling I foreshadowed last week actually happened!

More on that later.

Classes at the University of Ghana have come to an end! That’s strange, because it feels like I only just started to learn something a couple of weeks ago. Wait. That’s actually pretty much what happened.  Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but reflect last Monday morning on how much I’d miss Bossman and his words of wisdom while waiting a brisk 40 minutes for him to show up for our last lecture.  During this time, the class was asked to fill out a class evaluation form, at which point a girl next to me asked me what the name of the course was.  I understand that it could be hard to remember such a lengthy title as Sucks That Y’all Were Born in Ghana “Politics of International Economic Relations,” but seriously, lady. I’m sorry to say that I think it’s a bit too late for you to get your shit together.  Needless to say, I did not give Bossman glowing reviews. I could have been more volatile, seen in a “Rate My Professor” review I wrote a year ago (check 11/11/11), so Bossman shouldn’t feel too bad.  That afternoon I had a Twi oral exam, which went about as well as any task of mine that requires me to open my mouth and say something intelligent. In case you’re not aware of my verbal ineptitude…again, more on that later.

On Election Day Tuesday, I purchased a new camera and spent a majority of the day trying to control the panic that was slowly building over the next day’s oral presentation on Ghanaian Media. I could have gone to an election viewing party at NYU Ghana’s campus, but considering people didn’t get back from that until between 4-5 AM (and because my roommate has a TV), I decided to stick around. I knew if I went to the party I would have shattered any miniscule chance I had at sounding remotely coherent during the next morning’s presentation.

Despite Wednesday morning starting pretty spectacularly with the news of President Obama’s re-election (seriously, that victory speech? Mesmerizing.), my efforts at preparing for the report were fairly unsuccessful. I have enough trouble communicating under normal circumstances, so when there’s added pressure of a grade being given for what comes out of my mouth, it’s a pretty dismal scene.  There was a lot of stammering, a lot of flailing, a lot of uncomfortable and unfortunate pauses…but otherwise it went well! Anyway, who cares?! No more classes!!

Over at Beacon House, I was happy to see that there are two girls that now come in every day to teach. I helped out a lot in the classroom in the morning, and the afternoon featured the return of the trampoline.

Somebody’s displeased.

So. Much. Jumping.  All I wanted to do was lay down and avoid any kind of physical activity, but these kids don’t allow that. “Matteeee, jump!” is what was yelled at me by Prince over and over again, and then he just cried after being flung around a few times by my powerful leaps.  Once his giant head stopped flopping around and the crying subsided he just asked me to do it again. It makes no sense. Wait. Why am I trying to make sense of the demands and moods of a 3 year old?

I woke up at 6:00 Friday morning (Day 100!!), threw some clothes into my backpack, and by 7:00 I was on my way to the Western Region for another Solo Ghanaian Adventure! I planned on spending a few days lounging on a beach, maybe exploring some places that sounded appealing in my guidebook. But as J.R.R Tolkien wrote in The Hobbit, “It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him.” Put less eloquently, but more appropriately in relation to my life, “Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the face.” So true, Mike Tyson. So true.

As I was departing from Accra’s Kaneshie Station on the way to Takoradi, I saw a few dragons homeschool homestay kids waiting to leave in another tro tro.  After a few texts I learned that they were heading to the same location/hotel in Busua as me! Thus began the weekend I tried and failed to travel alone.  Luckily this is a group of people I like a lot (even you, fradversary), so if I had to randomly stumble across anyone, I’m really glad it was these guys.

We arrived at Alaska Beach Club by about 2:30-3ish, a hotel situated right on the beach with these huts scattered around a bar, restaurant, and communal bathroom. And there’s a penis swing.  And possibly a coslopus one as well. I spent the first night in a hut with 4 other girls, and after telling my father this he replied with, “Congrats! You’ve achieved one of our fantasies!!!!” I just can’t.

Not looking forward for the pictures of me on this swing to surface.

We decided to go swimming immediately, and it was around this time that I realized that I forgot to pack a bathing suit. On a trip to a beach resort. I decided the only available option would be to ruin a pair of shorts. Questionable decision #1 of the trip.  Early on we also noticed the ridiculous amount of dogs that make this stretch of beach their home.  Take a look!

Pups!

Maybe a Corgi? probably not.

Favorite pup.

A goat.

I was really low on cash the first day, and chose to spend a substantial portion of what money I had left on booze. Questionable decision #2.  I was introduced to this fun Ghanaian palm wine-based alcohol called Akpeteshie.  Its Wikipedia page gives a better description of it than I can come up with.  Here are a few excerpts:

“No one drinks ‘akpeteshie’ and smiles. At best, the reaction is a grimace or a frown. Such is the potency of the local gin that puts all senses under instant attack.”

“The alcohol content is so high that it is almost scandalous. It rocks the body for the first timer and there is a kind of feeling which is hard to describe, probably a knockout punch in boxing will do.”

As you can see, my face is an exact replica of this description:

My face matches the description so accurately

Unsurprisingly, its effects on me weren’t as strong as they were on a few other people, which provided great, sloppy entertainment that evening during a game of Kings. The only other time I played this was last summer in Botswana, and despite a few different rules, the experience was equally entertaining. While I wasn’t forced to chug a diabolical concoction of beer and orange Fanta like last year, I did dominate a few games of “Never Have I Ever.” I knew my lack of any normal adolescent experiences would come in handy some day!

Maybe the akpeteshie affected me more than I thought, because a late-night swim ended with me agreeing to skinny dip for the first (and probably last) time. Questionable decision #3. Obviously there was a lot of initial protest; “I don’t do things like this!!” is what I think I uttered a few times.  In the end, the underwear came off, instant humiliation ensued, and I’d like to never bring up this incident again. Thank you.

The rest of the weekend’s activities were much less shameful (at least for me. Anil.).  A lot of beach frisbee was played with local Ghanaian children, as well as a lot of lounging on hammocks.  Beautiful food was consumed, especially banana pancakes at Frank (and Dan) the Pancake Man, and $3.00 lobster.  More card games were played, which went well enough until a game which required partners revealed the incompatibility that exists between me and Anil.  Just too much sass. And probably too much akpeteshie for one of us (Hint? Not me).  We decided that we’d make a pretty entertaining Amazing Race pairing.  Hit us up, CBS producers.

I was finally on my own for a majority of Sunday-Monday morning, which allowed me to do what I was planning on doing for the entire weekend: absolutely nothing.  I treated myself to some barbeque chicken, sprawled myself on a hammock, finished reading The Hobbit, hugged some dogs, and ended up passing out by 8:30 after devouring more lobster and doing some star-gazing.

Me attempting to enjoy these kids touching all my stuff

Of course my day wasn’t completely devoid of human interaction; the kids we played Frisbee with stopped by, and after probably feeling disappointed that I was the only one remaining, managed to play with every electronic device I had on me. And now one of them has my phone number.  Eh. I suppose that’s alright.

I woke up at 5:00 in the morning to watch the sunrise out on the beach, the perfect ending to a pretty fantastic trip. Some friends joined me:

Yeah, you too

By 7:00 I was on my way back to Accra, and managed to arrive just in time to walk through a torrential downpour. All in all, while this may have not truly been a Solo Ghanaian Adventure, it was a great way to start the beginning of the end of my semester abroad.  The clothes that went into the water might smell like they were worn by skunks who decided to host a triathlon through Staten Island, but I wouldn’t change anything about my Western Region weekend.

Which is more than I can probably say for some people. Anil.

I’m seeing Mumford & Sons on Valentine’s Day. Thanks, dad! I already posted this song before, but it’s my favorite. So deal with it.

Debauchery!!

Apparently I can’t be serious and honest in my blog without causing concern for some family members. The second I start talking about some of my flaws, I guess I need to start expecting emails asking about my “immense” low self-esteem.  Pretty sure the word I used last week was “poor;” immense seems like too strong a word. Maybe it’s not. The point is, I’m not going to censor my thoughts or feelings just to make myself appear perfectly fine and content with myself. Part of why I started writing these entries is because of my less-than-satisfactory ability to vocalize certain facets of my being. I apologize to those of you who were uncomfortable with me breaking from my general snarky tone, but I don’t think you’ll have to worry this week.

Alright then.

My penultimate week of classes featured some of the last hidden gems I’ll likely hear from Bossman in “Sucks that Y’all Were Born in Ghana!” (Politics of International Economic Relations, for those of you who forgot the class’s actual name):

  • “If you’re not doing excellent there’s nothing you can do about it.” Really? Nothing?!
  • “The population of Nigeria is 160 million.  I don’t know how many the leader has killed…but there’s about 160 million.”
  • “Does Ghana like the Nigerians more than the Brits?” The Nigerians of the class responded with a resounding “NO!!

Not much else happened this week academically besides a lot of studying for another Colonial Rule/African Response exam on Halloween (funny how not being in America instantly makes October 31 insignificant). After seeing the scores of the first test there’s probably no point in feeling confident about it. I also didn’t study as much as I should have, partly because I didn’t care too much, but mostly because I was distracted/mesmerized by coverage of Superstorm Sandy. I don’t know why I bothered concerning myself with a silly storm that only affected rich white people in the Northeast (Don’t ask. But this article is shockingly appropriate/identical to an argument had over this).  Thankfully my house survived unscathed and my father was safely marooned in Las Vegas (best week ever for him) and avoided evacuation.

When I arrived at Beacon House on Thursday I was surprised to see that Ben’s new mother was there, I guess to deal with some adoption paperwork and other legalities that are part of the process. It really is amazing and beautiful to see him so excited and happy. I’m happy and excited for him too, but I can’t help but think about the other kids whose futures are still completely unknown.  I can’t imagine it being easy for them having to see Ben with his mother, and I think it was slightly inappropriate that she spent so many hours at the house.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned about children, it’s that they become jealous easily. I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it.

Hello, perfect baby pretending to be Superman!

I really need to work on not laughing at inappropriate times. Prince and a couple of the other kids decided to play “Run Away from Matthew!” As I power walked ran after them, Prince turned towards me, stuck out his tongue, laughed and yelled “Na na na na na” at me. I went after him, he turned around to run away, and immediately smacked his giant head into a wall.

This smile didn’t last too much longer

The switch from screaming in laughter and joy to howling in anguish and pain was instantaneous (always is with this kid).  I only laughed for about 2 seconds (I swear!) before running over to him to let him cry all over me.  I’m really curious to know the quantity of child tears my shirts have accumulated these past few months.

Friday morning I had to register for next semester’s classes at GW.  Like most things in Ghana, this experience was stress-free, unlike prior registration experiences that have rendered me near tears and in the fetal position. I left for Beacon House afterwards, feeling pretty bad about how little I’ve been there these past two weeks.

My mood quickly changed once I arrived and was met with a ridiculous welcome that I’m still not used to. There were chants of “Matthew! Matthew!” (or “Matteeee” from Prince) and kids running at me from every direction to give me a hug. I’ve probably mentioned how unused to I am to witnessing anybody express excitement over my presence. It seems completely outlandish to me, but it’s also the greatest. Ever. And when I have to leave and the kids seem genuinely miserable and say “Don’t goooo!” it’s just…too much to handle.

My cheeks used to look like Prince’s. Can’t wait to get that back in a few weeks

I’ve earned the reputation here of spending a majority of my time with children, but this is one of the few instances in my life when I don’t wish that anything was different.

That afternoon I helped a girl with her science homework, giving me a chance to look through a Ghanaian textbook. I knew that if it was anything like the short stories I’ve talked about, that it would likely be hilarious.  Some sections were, but others were absolutely terrifying. Just take a look at some of these pictures and you’ll understand.

Things started off tame enough

“Our friends will run away from us if our body gives off an unpleasant odor”
Well this is a bit odd

When I saw the heading of “Keeping the Anus Clean” I realized this book is probably not the most ideal learning material.

This is around the time that I wanted to rip up the book.

“God created humankind from the dust.” WHAAATTTT? This is in a science textbook. I couldn’t believe it. Wanted to cry.

The only jobs teachers gear us towards are doctors, policeman, farmers, and presidents. Seems pretty valid

This is just hilarious.
Remember, old people are not wizards/witches!

I mentioned last week that after seeing that hilarious fight scene from Batman I wanted to see the movie 12 more times, but I didn’t think that would ever actually happen.  Luckily for me the kids watched it again Friday night, and this time I got to see the film in its entirety. It’s a 90 minute trainwreck of pure campy hilarity. Two new favorite scenes:

I began my Saturday by going to mall, hoping to either get my camera fixed or purchase a new one.  My camera is probably my most important possession here, and since I’m going to be doing a lot of traveling in the next few weeks I need to do something about this fast.  Unfortunately, like most of my trips to the mall here, I left accomplishing little and with a bag of chips. A young woman in the supermarket asked to be my friend, and all I could muster was a “No thank you!” and ran away.  I’m sure she really just wanted my money, but I don’t think my answer would have been different regardless.

The social butterfly that I am, I intended to spend the rest of my Saturday reading, but somehow agreed to play some Frisbee. There were times when we were pretty good, but a much larger number of times when we were shockingly bad. But it was fun. And thankfully a young boy joined in and automatically made us look better. I played again today (Sunday), this time competitively. Considering I haven’t played a team sport since probably high school gym, and that I haven’t really exercised since the summer, I’m just glad I got through it. I also learned that I’m some kind of frisbee-throwing virtuoso.  It’s amazing how good I am when little movement is required.

I’m not really a “go out and have fun at bars” kind of guy. I’m more of a “stay inside and be lame” kind of guy. The few times I decide to actually be a real 20 year old, ridiculousness tends to follow. Here’s a timeline of last night’s debauchery. But first, please enjoy this Spongebob clip:

  • Spent about two hours trying to meet up with people at a bar on a beach that’s supposed to have live music.
  • Arrive at bar and learn that the music is nonexistent.
  • Cross the street to another bar when poison gin shot #1 is consumed.
  • Young cat comes up to us. I needed to hold that cat immediately. Spend a lot of time on the floor petting him.
  • Get up to finish poison gin shots #2 and #3. Realize that brand new sandal is broken.  Same foot as my other pair, making me question whether my right foot is dangerous.
  • Hobble over to Bar #2. Around this time Anil gave me his shoe to wear. His feet are tiny. Really tiny.
  • Carton of Sangria consumed.
  • Off to Bar #3, aka Air Hockey Table Bar. There’s a new motorcycle racing game there. We all came in 8th place.
  • Off to Bar #4 where we met up with other people. Still wearing Anil’s shoe. Beer and poison gin is shared. Yuck.
  • Few of us return to Air Hockey Table Bar where I demanded a rematch after my humiliating defeat by Anil a few weeks ago. The table ended the game prematurely with him leading 6-5. THIS ISN’T OVER.
  • Finally start stumbling back to campus. My other sandal breaks. Decide the only sane thing to do would be to walk barefoot all the way back. Bon voyage, pussy sandals.
  • We decide to steal a bunch of political party flags. Not quite sure how this decision came about. Climbing on shoulders was required. Surprisingly I didn’t participate.
  • Finally arrive at around 1:15 AM with a PPP (Progressive People’s Party) flag and no foot wounds! I’m as shocked as you probably are by that.

    Can’t wait to fit this into my suitcase

This coming week is pretty important! Last week of classes, my Ghanaian media presentation (HAHA it’s funny cause we’re not prepared at all), and potentially some travelling. If I don’t latch onto another group’s travel plans, I’m just going to embark on another solo travel adventure, possibly to the Western Region. I think it would be good for me to travel alone some more, if only as a way to test myself. With all the traveling I’ve done over the years, very little of it has been completely on my own.  I’ve always been shepherded around or chaperoned, and I’m curious to see how I’d do when having to make my own decisions. So either way, I have a feeling I won’t be here next weekend, in which case my next entry may not be for a little while. Sorry, dad everyone.

My friend sent me this video this morning, and I’d say it encapsulates what I deal with here better than anything else I’ve shared.

Oh, and one more Spongebob clip from the same episode. Really can’t believe this was allowed to be shown.