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.
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.
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!
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:
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.
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.
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.