Au revoir, Abidjan....

 I will soon be leaving Abidjan.... time really flew! 

Here are some things I will definitely miss....

-          Alloco: these fried delicacies will greatly be missed. However, I bet my heart/arteries will be grateful.
-          Coconuts on the street: Manna from heaven, and they will cut it open for you to drink right there. 100 centimes. Life doesn’t get any better.

 -          Coffee ladies: three wonderful Baoulé ladies serve coffee and sandwiches on my floor at work. Every morning, they laugh at my accent and bring me coffee with a little milk. Sometimes I get an avocado sandwich from them for lunch.
-          Ivorian mannerisms while speaking: “Yako,” “mmhmm”, “on est là,” “ce qui est sûr…” and various hand gestures that go with them.
-          Jacqueville: Paradise. Though a bit of a pain to get to, it was my favorite spot in Cote d’Ivoire due to its beauty and quiet.

-          Maquis: poisson braisé, poulet picqué, alloco, attieke, and good music to boot. In particular, Chez Helene, Chez Ambroise, and BBQ Inn.

-          My colleagues and our missions: I enjoyed traveling to schools in other cities, and my colleagues were great partners for the trips.

-     The Chargeurs: the guys who get us the car in the morning for work. Some of them confessed their love, while others just preferred to practice their English.

     -    Shocking taxi drivers with my accent.

-          Pagne: Bright colors on men and women alike, in interesting styles. Oumar, our tailor, could make anything we drew for him, as long as we gave him a lot of time (sometimes sitting with him for hours while he finished stuff)

-          The hair salon ladies: $7 for a mani/pedi. They are right across the street so I definitely used their services. They loved to ask us to bring them back a “friend” from the USA.
-           The Hash: Both the classic and the Abidjan Hash, this was the once a week chance to leave the city and walk around with good company. I laid the Classic Hash twice, which merited me a very inappropriate Hash name. Fun times.

Classic Hash, Abidjan Zoo, 16 June

Abidjan Hash, November 10

-          Wearing sandals every day

-          New surprises/challenges every day: walk out the door. You do not know what the day holds… it could consist of making a taxi driver giggle with your sad attempts at Nouchi or arguing with fruit sellers about the price of a mango. It could end with the road being blocked from a land slide during the rainy season or a 2 hour traffic jam caused by incompetent military trying to regulate the patterns. You might learn the merits of polygamy from a colleague during a conference or have to explain to other colleagues how to put page numbers into a document. You could eat bush meat in a sticky okra stew or French fries and Lebanese salad. You just never know, and that’s what’s the best about it.

Won’t be missed

-          Apprentis: the kids that yell at you when you are crossing the street: They want you to go on their Gbaka. But I just want to cross the street.
-          Embouteillage: Sitting in hour-long traffic in the heat with pollution coming in the windows…. No thank you.

-          Internet and power outages: With the rainy season came lots of power outages. And our internet was always up and down.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2013/apr/22/delestron-cartoon-superhero-blackout-ivory-coast

-          Negotiating: Every price is negotiable. Though this has positive benefits for the pocket, it can get exhausting, especially if the vendor is giving you a hard time because of where you come from.

-          NesCafe: I can’t wait to have some real coffee. The good kind.
-          Nobody having change: See this post.
-          Open sewers and men using them to relieve themselves: Nuff said.
-          Work drama: bureaucracy and politics, lack of funds, and the like… I sometimes found myself in the middle of “palabres” between colleagues. 

Les fêtes en Côte d'Ivoire

The end of October brought us two holidays: Tabaski and Toussaint, which gave us two days off work and a chance to get some real cultural experiences while here.

Tabaski: October 26

Tabaski, the name of Eid al Adha in Francophone African countries, is one of the most important Muslim celebrations. Muslims are estimated to make up at least 40% of the population in Côte d'Ivoire, so the day is off from work. And a good thing too! Tabaski celebrates the sacrifice that Abraham made, when God asked him to sacrifice his only son. Since Abraham was willing to do it, God spared him and allowed him to sacrifice a sheep instead. Hence, Tabaski is the "sheep ceremony." Sheep were in high demand this year, and because many of the sheep come from the Sahelian countries (such as Mali, currently plagued by a rebellion and political crisis) the costs were exorbitant as the fête approached (upwards of 700,000 franc CFA = $1,400!!) You are supposed to slaughter the sheep after morning prayers, and then eat it all that day. That means inviting people over to help you finish it and sharing it with those who cannot afford to buy their own.

We were invited to a Tabaski celebration at a colleague of mine (see post about my arrival here, I mentioned her invitation). She was very welcoming, and served up heaping plates of fonio, a grain from the north, and sheep stew. It was delicious.

After eating, my colleague and her friend who had stopped by showed us how to do a dance that was associated with a song released shortly after Ouattara's win. It was the Ouattara Cucu dance!

Abissa – October 28-November 4

The following week, we had the day off to celebrate Toussaint, or All Saints Day, A Catholic celebration. Instead of heading to the église, we went to the beach! Direction: Grand Bassam to see part of the Abissa celebration.

Abissa is a yearly festival by the N’Zima people that lasts the entire last week of October. The N’Zima are part of the Ashanti ethnic group (yes, from Ghana, consider that it was at one time a huge empire that stretched across West Africa!) and living in the coastal areas near Grand Bassam, the old colonial administrative capital of Côte d’Ivoire. The city itself is quite beautiful; run down colonial mansions and buildings, remnants of the French colonial order. Grand Bassam is about an hour from Abidjan, so we headed that way with some Save the Children friends, ate lunch on the beach, and then headed to the Abissa festival around 3.

According to this site, “During this festival, social barriers are lifted and ‘anything goes.’” This was so very true; there were tons of men dressed up like women! (the whole get-up: big butts, boobs, wigs and dresses!) Women wore jewelry fashioned out of household items: match boxes, condoms, kola nuts, cigarette boxes…

Abissa is also the moment to publically denounce any transgressions one has committed, to confess to any wrongdoing (even the chiefs participate) and to bring about social harmony. 

Check out some of the videos and pictures I took here: Abissa .

Abissa

We didn’t stay long for the ceremony, but the music was enthralling, the dancing was impressive, and the cross-dressing men were just hilarious. 

The Versatility of Plantains

And it is the long-awaited post about food here in Abidjan.

I am certain that Ivoirians do not have potassium deficiencies as much as they eat plantains here. You can have them in a variety of ways:

Alloco – chopped up and fried in oil. Best served hot. Often a side dish, but can be eaten with boiled eggs for a “light” lunch.

Claclo – mashed up into balls and then fried in oil. Similar to alloco, but a different texture.

Foutou – pounded and boiled. Served with a hearty sauce, such as sauce graine (made from Palm oil tree seeds)

Chips – sliced thinly and fried. There are two varieties, the sweeter and darker ones, and the saltier and yellow ones.

Roasted – women squatting above a grill fanning whole plantains. The best ones are the ones with the black charred outsides.

Plantains aren’t the only side dish here; you can also have regular white rice, riz gras (essentially the rice used in the Senegalese dish ceebu jen, slathered in oil), couscous, yams (boiled or fried), and of course, the most popular, attiéké (ground and dried cassava).

For meat, you have your options: poulet (chicken) or poisson (fish) braisé which is slowly roasted, and delicious. Fried or smoked fish, tilapia and carp being the most popular. Beef and sheep you can find on occasion and sometimes there is oxtail on the menu (never tried).

Finally, your sauces.

Sauce feuilles – leafy green sauce, often spicy and made with dried fish (not my fave). Served with chicken or fish and rice.

Sauce tomate – spicy tomato sauce can be served with rice, attiéké, couscous, and the meat of your choosing.

Sauce legume – often chopped up green beans, tomatoes, onions, spicy and served over poisson braise. This is my favorite.

Sauce arachide – peanut sauce, the savory kind. Sometimes has vegetables in it.

Sauce aubergine – mashed up eggplant.

Sauce claire – also has eggplant and tomato, but is often very spicy. Never tried.

Food can get spicy here. For the most part, the piment is served on the side, so if you are a spice- phobe, you won’t have to worry. However, our neighborhood chicken guy, Moussa, likes to put the spices directly on the chicken, which is delicious, but you might need to order a Flag or Castel (local beers) to cool down your mouth.

So far, the best poisson braisé I have had in Abidjan. Attiéké in the background, piment in green

Poisson braisé, attiéké, alloco

foutou and sauce graine

Electric Sliding, What is Literacy?, Sine Saloum, Marabout fun

A lot has gone on since I last wrote. Pictures are to the right and I also posted the link to Lizzie’s Spring Break pictures, because she took better ones than me.
The Saturday after spring break was International Student Day at Suffolk. All of the students at the University prepared food from their native countries, displayed traditional clothing and dances, and also participated in a talent show. Lizzie, Andrew and I made chocolate chunk cookies, which tasted kind of funny, but they were still good. Another professor brought cheeseburgers (Senegalese style though…which means they had a huge egg on top). Countries on display included Nigeria, Burkina Faso, Senegal, Mauritania, Benin, Ethiopia, and the Gambia. Our “American” dance was the electric slide, haha. In the middle of the talent show, a pretty famous singer came to perform his extremely popular song “Blocaz.” He invited a bunch of people on the stage to do the blocaz dance with him; it was a lot of fun. Much later in the evening we went with him to this very nice discotheque.
The following week my Education and Culture in Senegal class went to an adult literacy class on a field trip. The class consisted of maybe fifteen women over the age of forty and who almost all held jobs as a vendeuse (seller). They did not speak French and their first language was Pulaar (Fulani in English), but they could also speak Wolof. What I found most incredible was the fact that their literacy class was not in the National language (and therefore most written and utilized language in the country) of French. Instead the women were learning to write Fulani, a language that has only been written down for 60 years and in which nothing is written in this country. Our class was faced with this conundrum: what is the point of learning to write in your native language if it isn’t the language that signs, newspapers, etc. are written in? One classmate of mine said it was difficult to learn an alphabet, so it was better for them to learn the alphabet of their own language before moving on to French, which is foreign to them. Yes, this would make sense if there were adult literacy classes in French, but there are not. Most of those women will live their entire lives without ever learning French. Another classmate said, well at least they will be able to recognize letters and numbers on street signs. But does that really help? At the beginning of the literacy class, the women repeated the saying that those who are illiterate are lost and do not know themselves. Perhaps the literacy course is only to empower these women, whose children probably speak French that they learned in school. The women will be able to better handle their commerce through having the ability to keep documents of sales and balance the numbers, as well as help their children with their homework to some extent. I also think it is a pride thing; the Fulani are a large group in Senegal, but Wolof is the most wide spoken language. Through teaching literacy classes in their native tongue, they are protecting their culture and language.
Last weekend we went to the Sine Saloum delta. That is where the Saloum River meets the ocean. It was a most relaxing trip; we took a pirogue down the river, a horse cart tour of the local village, and got to chill on the beach. Saturday night we went to a traditional wrestling match. The pictures aren’t very good (there wasn’t much light), so you are going to have to use your imagination. Think Sumo wrestling, but with thin, muscular black men (in other words, the only thing the two have in common is the little thong/underwear thing they wear). There were many participants in this particular match, so the ones not wrestling walked around the circle and danced to the drumming and singing. It was quite a spectacle; especially when our lovely “toubabs” joined in the extravaganza. Three boys and two girls from the USA wrestled Senegalese people in the middle of the match. All of the boys won and one of the girls defeated her opponent quickly.
Finally, on Wednesday of this week we went to visit a Marabout in Madina. Marabouts are religious leaders in the community and the one we visited, Thierno Madu Tall, was one of the top Marabouts who oversees many Marabouts below him. We were entertained in his enormous sitting room, the same sitting room, he proudly told us, where he had just meet with the Israeli ambassador. We discussed almost everything under the sun: how many wives he had (two, but always was considering a third), his role in the community (he blesses all weddings and funerals and people come to him for financial advice or even to ask him if the mate they have chosen is right for them), his opinion on beating children (he believes that adult criminals were not beaten in their childhood, so the students under his care are beaten), and of course, his thoughts on talibes begging for their Marabouts (he said it was practical because the parents abandon the children in the Marabout’s care and the Marabout cannot take care of all of those children by himself, so they beg to re-pay their teachers; however, Thierno said he does not have talibes begging for him). It was a rare experience because he was not surrounded by his “posse” and was able to answer all questions honestly, even though he did have a very round-about way of avoiding the questions at times.
My birthday is next week, and happens to coincide with Senegal’s Independence Day celebrations. This Saturday we are going to a water management plant for environment class. The following week we will be going on our rural visits to stay with either NGOs or Peace Corps Volunteers out in the bush. In other words, my time is flying by really quickly! There are only three weeks or so left of class, five weeks until I go to Cape Verde, and two months until I come back to the U.S.

Senegal versus Ghana: A generalized comparison

Disclaimer: I am going to make a lot of generalizations in this particular blog, but I want to paint a picture of what I can see are the visual, cultural, climatic, etc. differences between Accra and Dakar. Hopefully, no one takes offense to anything I may comment on.

Climate: At the current moment, it is very chilly in Senegal (I’d say 70s, which is cold if you ask me). I have had to wear long pants and long sleeves to bed every night. I think that this is because of the dry season, but it is a lot colder here than it ever was in Ghana. It feels more beachy here than it did in Ghana. We are like right on the ocean, too. Because of this, there is sand all over the sidewalk and it feels much dryer (i.e. I have to put lotion on my ashy legs everyday) than the humid Accra.

Education systems: We visited the Université de Cheik Anta Diop (the largest one in Senegal) last week. Apparently, the school is hardly in session due to strikes by students or professors. Sometimes there will be whole years (termed “année Blanc”) where the students never go to class because of the strikes. Also, the students have to pay tuition to the university, but often they get scholarships based on their performance on the extremely difficult baccalaureate tests in high school. The test is hard because there is only so much scholarship money and/or room at the university for the students. This is quite different from the university system I encountered in Ghana. There are three large university campuses (and a host of smaller, training institutions) – University of Cape Coast, University of Ghana, and Kumasi University of science and technology. There is no tuition; instead students pay fees and have to essentially pay back the government through the national service required to be completed after the student graduates.

Dakar vs. Accra: Dakar is much cleaner than Accra. I can see why it has been called “the Paris of West Africa.” It seems like Dakar was a planned city; laid out a certain way to avoid urban sprawl and with all the government offices located together. It also has green spaces, gorgeous statues, lovely town squares (like La Place du indépendance). This is much different from Accra – open sewers, trash everywhere, no rhyme or reason to lay out, sidewalks covered in people selling their products, etc.

Political system: Comparatively, Senegal has been more stable politically than Ghana. There have only been three presidents, no coups, and for the most part, those three were democratically elected. The presidential elections are coming up in February, but they should be pretty secure and stable, excluding protests and rallies. Still, Senegal is a poor nation that sees thousands upon thousands of its young male workers illegally immigrating to Italy, Spain, France. It also still is dealing with the political strife in the Casamance region.

Transportation: There are more options in Dakar when it comes to transportation. Your choices are: a DDD (the equivalent to the metro buses in Accra; government run, large buses with a fixed rate. Sometimes you will get a seat but most of the time you are standing in the aisle), a Ndiaga Ndiaye (pronounced Jaga Jie) which is most similar to a tro-tro (a large white van with seats rigged in the aisles, a driver and a mate.). One difference is that there are no side doors on the Ndiaga Ndiaye, only front or back doors. The mates often hang out the back. The other mode of transportation is the car rapide. These are highly decorated vans (painted yellow, red, and green, with Wolof and Arabic phrases all over them, and with ribbons of various colors hanging from the back, sides and mirrors). In many ways similar to the ndiaga ndiaye, these car rapides don’t have glass in the windows, they have benches instead of seats, and every time I have seen one, there is at least two people hanging out the back door. In a tro-tro, one would never stand up. In a ndiaga ndiaye and a car rapide, standing is the norm. Also, in a tro-tro, one is guaranteed their own seat. In a ndiaga ndiaye or car rapide, someone else’s butt may be in your lap. There is also the taxi, but these are the same as taxis in Accra.

Every day life: Hawking is less prevalent in Dakar than Accra, but it is still there. Tigo, a phone company in Accra, is also used in Dakar.
In Senegal there is something very intriguing called a “joking cousin” (suma kal). These are people who essentially make fun of others, all the time. For example, if your last name is Ndiaye (which is my last name here) than your joking cousin is the Diop. When you meet a Diop it is expected that you make fun of them in some way. It isn’t serious; it’s just sarcasm and petty jokes (comme ca: "Diops eat too much, they are lazy, etc.) However, if you don’t make jokes, that is considered offensive. There are also joking cousins among ethnic groups i.e. the Peulhs versus the Wolofs. The government used this popular cultural practice when they were attempting the peace process in the Casamance, using the joking cousin of the Jola people to encourage resolution.
Many people speak English, which was a bit surprising, but if you think about it, not really. Many students learn some English in school in hopes of migrating to the U.S., teens listen to American songs and to cater to tourists, vendors know the basics (“please, miss, come look at my items. How are you? I am fine.”) The U.S. embassy is much more heavily guarded here than in Accra; tons of barriers and a ton of gendarmes (police) patrolling the area.
Stuff is a heck of a lot more expensive here than it was in Accra. (500 cfa = about 1 dollar). Juice, for example, costs more than a dollar for a tiny bottle. Fruit is a lot more expensive as well (orange in ghana = less than a nickle, in Senegal = 20 cents), but we get a stipend so it’s okay.

Interesting info: Wrestling (la lutte) is more popular here than soccer. The sport is very traditional, with sumo wrestling-esque diapers and a huge circle. Two lutteurs battle it out as such: first they slap each other, girl fight/cat fight style. then someone throws a punch, and it's on. There is a lot of grabbing,kicking, punching,and then finally the winner is able to throw the loser down on the ground. I watched a battle yesterday with my host family and they were really into it, yelling, taunting the opponents, excited.

Une Semaine et ma famille

Well I have been here in Senegal for one week. The first five days were all orientation…which was annoying in many respects because they were telling me things I already knew. Not to mention, I think learning from observation and experience is better than just being told about the culture. For example, we spent like two hours talking about the way men will approach women to express their love. I feel like once it happened to you a few times, you could figure out what men do when they approach you (i.e. “what’s your name? your number? Your address? I love you.” Etc.) But some of the orientation was beneficial, such as the Wolof sessions and the information about Senegalese values.
Friday I moved in with my family. It is a very big family:
Dio-Dio (Jo-Jo) – 25 years (ma soeur). She is studying tourism. She also speaks a little English, which comes in handy when I am having communication problems. She also knows some Italian.
Uzin – 24 years (mon frère) – makes really delicious Senegalese tea (which is very strong and has lots of sugar. It’s a cultural tradition; it takes special practice to make it.)
Ndeye – 21 years (ma soeur) – A really sweet girl who hates to follow the rules in Uno.
Souba – 18 years (ma soeur) – Also knows some English but is studying Spanish at school as well.
Samba – 13 years (mon frère) – likes football and loves to play Uno. He was able to explain the rules of the game to the rest of the family, so we play often.
Nene – 10 years (ma soeur) – Full of personality, she reminds me of a little diva.
Baba – 4 years (mon frère) – wishes he can play Uno with us, but is completely satisfied as long as we include him in some way (he loves to yell « Uno » randomly and say my name and start giggling)
And ma mère – Yaay – really kind and outgoing, always asking me if everything is okay.

There is also another girl living with us, but I haven’t gotten her name (Rabah, I think). I also met my uncle, Tonton, yesterday. My father is in the military. We have three goldfish and a parrot. It’s a very nice house, located in Comico 2, which is where military families live. I am about 15 minutes from Suffolk where I will be taking classes. And I think I can totally get used to bucket showers. ;)
All the ladies in the fam are gorgeous and the men are cute, which only goes to show how the people in Senegal are. The tv is always on: either on music videos from all over the world, soap operas from Brazil and Spain, news programs from Senegal or foreign films ( I have watched one from India and another from Japan). They also love watching movies, whether they are dubbed or with subtitles (they have watched at least three of the American movies I brought from home already). The tv is on when they clean, eat, play cards, just as background noise. This will take some getting used to, but listening to French tv all the time may improve my comprehension skills.

Yesterday we went on a tour of downtown Dakar as a group. I can’t reiterate how much I hate being in touristy groups, so needless to say, it was quite bothersome because we stood out so much. After that, I rested a bit, then headed to the Suffolk soccer field to play a friendly game of football. We, the CIEE girls, played against the Suffolk girls’ team and got beaten 2-0. Nevertheless, it made me realize how much I missed being out on the field, and I am going to see if I can train with them and play on their team. My brother, Samba, went with me to the game, so that was fun (he helped me learn crucial words in French, i.e. goal, kick, referee).
Later, I will write a blog comparing my experience here to my experience in Ghana. One thing off the bat is “la nourriture” (food). The Senegalese food actually has taste and isn’t overly spicy. They also use more ingredients, delicious sauces, and a lot of baguettes. Often they serve fruit as dessert after a meal. It was really funny when the other students in CIEE learned that we would be eating with our hands out of bowls. After various Fufu/Kenkey experiences in Ghana, I was a little doubtful about the Senegalese food experience. But, the food here is much better, there isn’t some sketchy soup and sticky, doughy material, just rice or couscous or bread. You sit on the floor, minus shoes, wash your right hand, and wait until your host digs in. Then you can eat out of your side of the bowl, making sure to not reach into the middle. The meat and vegetables are in the middle, so the host distributes these evenly to the rest of the eaters. When you are finished, you can burp to say you are satisfied, or say “Net na barima” (it was good, I am satisfied). You then get up and wash your hands (this has been difficult to do with the host family because they want you to “mangez!” a lot, so you kind have to really be firm or just finish all your food).
One thing my host sisters love for me to talk about is my “jaay fondey.” This means “big butt.” The Senegalese want us to gain weight and have a “jaay fondey.” I am going to take a dance class, play soccer, and perhaps join the local gym in order to not gain a larger “jaay fondey.”

tomorrow....

Well, my semester in Ghana is drawing to a close. Tomorrow I will leave the hostel forever at 4:30pm, head to the airport and leave Ghana at 11:30pm. Sad times...

The last few days I have just been rushing to finish things up before I leave. We have also been going out a lot on people's last nights in town. Indian food twice in one week, Italian restaurant, the Baze bar, Tyme Out on campus for Chinese. Saturday I had lunch at Prof's house with the other CDD interns. Sunday I went to Tema with my roommate to visit her family. It's interesting how cyclical life is...when we first arrived in Ghana, the dorms were empty, the campus a ghost town because we arrived two weeks before registration. Now, since we are leaving four days after the semester has ended, we are once again the only people on campus. Night market has even ceased to function except for a few stalls. The silence in the hostel and campus is deafening. I am not packed yet, I have not finished souvenir shopping, and I still have a long list of things to do before I leave. Hey I still have all of today and a lot of tomorrow. ;)
I will be spending almost 18 hours on a plane, which I am not looking forward to. In addition to that I will be spending two hours in London and four in JFK. I will be home more than 24 hours after I leave, but hey I will have a good book and a host of movies to select from on the British Airways flight.

Things I won't miss about Ghana:
1. Open sewers
2. the honks of taxi drivers
3. sweating all the time
4. no water
5. no power
6. men harassing you (I love you, I want to marry you, etc.)
7. pepe
8. men urinating wherever they please
9. being woken up in the middle of the night by my over-studious roommate
10. hand washing clothes

Things I will mos def miss...to be continued I am sure
1. Tro-tros
2. Lights out as an excuse to hit the town
3. Puuuure Water
4. Plantains
5. "oh! eh!"
6. a nice cold shower after sweating all day
7. music blaring everywhere, especially Celine
8. walking to where you need to go, and people staring
9. Night market
10. Burgers or Snappy's groundnuts
11. Kelewele
12. hawkers
13. "i'm coming."
14. the friendly people
15. cedis
16. traveling on weekends

I am running out of internet time, but I will probably think of more to add to the lists...

three months, monkey paws, Where do all the tro-tros go?, Eba and Bitterleaf stew

Thursday night we went to aphrodisiac for ladies night. It was a really crowded club with tons of scantily clad females and sketchy men. It was a good time, i guess, because it was free but the music wasn't that great.
Today it has been three months since I left home; I have 6.5 weeks til I return home. Its kinda scary...I mean I am excited about coming home, but I don't want to leave because I really like it here.
Saturday we went to a fetish market in Jamestown. We drove past gorgeous buildings like the supreme court building, the barclays bank and even a woolworths with a parking deck ( I felt, for a fleeting moment, like I was back in a US city) and then we hit Jamestown. It is more or less a slum town of Accra and it was run down and decrepit and slightly depressing, especially after seeing those buildings. We found the fetish market, located in the lumber yard, where they sold anything from monkey paws to dog heads to thunder rocks (rocks that come from the sky when it thunders?) to fertility dolls to dried chameleons. It was interesting to say the least. from here we headed to the Arts Center, which was a big mistake. At the Arts center all they do is harass you..." my sistah, please come look at what I have. What are you looking for? I have paintings, mud cloth, ghana shirts. Please just for a second, no pressure. How much would you want this painting for? How much do you have? Its very nice!" etc. every stall you walked past, and there were a lot of stalls. Not to mention the stuff there was overly expensive. I bought some fabric and some bracelets and then my money was spent, so we headed back to campus.
That night we got dressed up to go out and eat Nigerian food at a restaurant (Uchi's place) in east legon. I mean...it was a cultural experience...the food was...TOO SPICY. I ordered Eba, which is a big lump of doughy something but it tasted a lot better than fufu. With the eba I got bitterleaf stew, but it wasn't a stew, it was full of dried fish (which I must admit I can't stand) and probably three pounds of pepe (no joke). The good thing about the stew was the goat meat.
by justinesghana

It was pricey for something I didn't want to eat (50,000 cedis) but CJ, the birthday boy, was really happy we all came to eat his native food. We watched some Nigerian music videos, drank some home-made gin (5,000 cedis for a shot), and had a good time until midnight when some went out dancing and the rest returned home to sleep.
Yesterday, Karen and I decided to jump on a random tro-tro and see where we ended up. Stupidly, we got on a tro-tro to Adenta which wasn't far from campus at all. But we walked around the town, which was a pretty nice development area, and drank some fanta at a relaxation spot in a garden owned by a former botany professor at Legon. It wasn't anything too exciting, but it was a change from campus.
Last night we went to see a play about Yaa Asantewaa and the golden stool. the story is as such: the golden stool is very important to the Ashanti people. It unifies them and if someone else were to possess the stool, they would go into turmoil. Well, when the brits came in, they wanted the golden stool and wanted to rule Ashanti because of the gold that was under the earth. So, the british arrested the Asantehene (chief) Prempeh and took him to Cape Coast. They were also given a fake golden stool to take home to the King (the real one was dug up accidently when they were building around Kumasi and it now is in the palace there). Yaa Asantewaa, the queen mother, rallied the people to fight the British in a long resistance. The play was amazing...there was more than 100 people in the cast and at least 50 people on the stage at all times, so it was far from boring. Half of the play was in Twi, but you could understand what was going on without knowing the language. The play was narrated by a story teller, had real obrunis playing the british, and had really great dancing, singing and drumming. I was really glad I went.

“An African in Africa,” kissed, luxurious life, and a very happy Halloween

On Friday night I went to this African-American owned restaurant/bar called Jazz Tones with two South African gentleman. One of the South Africans had been living in Ghana for three years, but said that he was initially shocked. He said that he would title his autobiography, an African in Africa. He said he was frustrated with the laxidasical lifestyle of Ghana, the lack of attention to times for meetings, and most interestingly, the way that Ghanaians interacted with people of a different class. For example, he said that the “upper class” Ghanaians would never interact with the lowly street worker. He said that in South Africa, things were totally different, everyone interacted with everyone despite their race, creed, income. Things down there were also a lot more fast paced and timely. He also said it was extremely difficult to date Ghanaian females because they were shy, or never invited you anywhere.
Saturday we took a day trip to Boti Falls, in the Eastern Region. We rode to Koforidua (affectionately, K’Duah) which is the capital of Eastern Region in a tro-tro which took about 3 hours. Then we waited for the metro bus to take us to Agogo, the town right outside the falls. When we arrived at the falls, we paid an entrance fee of 15,000 cedis, then we began our three hour hike. It was a nice hike through the woods to a rock called the umbrella rock. Basically it is two enormous rocks on top of each other. We climbed to the top on a rickety, slighty sketchy bamboo ladder (it wasn’t attached to the rock and it was held together by string). It was nice and relaxing on top. However, our relaxation and attempt to enjoy the climate, clean air and quiet was interrupted by a group of Muslim Drama students (therefore, its not just annoying Christians here…). When we reached the cave, the Muslim boys wanted to take our picture. It was like we were park mascots or something…they all crowded around us in a huge group. Every minute someone new would show up with a camera and get his friends to hug us or put their arms around us to take a picture. One boy even had the audacity to kiss me on the cheek and practically climb on top of me in one of the pictures (actually the picture probably ended up being me pushing the guy away from me with an extreme look of disgust). We avoided them at all costs for the rest of the trip, bypassing the areas they were visiting with our tour guide leading the way. We also saw a cool looking three headed palm tree. Then we headed to the falls, which was down a walkway with 250 steps (we tried to count but it was too much effort). The falls were really nice…there were two, a man and a woman. Legend has it that an Ashanti man came to the river and saw a woman who could braid his hair. While doing so, they fell into the river (Boti means braid in Twi, I think). The male fall was of course larger and more abundant than the woman falls. I watched as my friends frolicked in the water for a bit, then we decided to start heading back to Accra around 4.
We asked someone if the bus would be coming soon, and they said yes, so to be proactive we started walking down the empty road towards K’Duah. We walked, and walked and walked, but still no tro-tro or bus. Then, it starts thundering and the Ghanaians on the road started running down the street, right before it started to pour. We hide under a tree in front of this house, and the people in the house told us to come sit with them under the porch. They were really nice and “invited” us to their yams. They didn’t speak much English, which is a first encounter for me. So we sat and waited for the rain to let up and still no bus/tro-tro. At 5:30 we headed back down the road, and at this point it started getting dark so we found a cab who took us to the tro-tro station where we hopped on a tro-tro to Achimoto, where we had to get a cab because it was too late for tro-tros going to campus. It was a nice trip, but we did almost get stranded, haha.
Sunday was a day of luxury. It was really hot, so we headed to Shangri-La ( a hotel) to lounge by the pool. It cost 45,000 cedis to get into the pool and we stayed there from 12 until 6. We ordered a delicious pizza with mushrooms and ham (85,000 for a medium) and then decided to go to Maxmart for coffee (cappuchino 15,000) and croissants (8,000 chocolate filled). So, despite its expense, it was a good relaxing day.
Monday night we bought a watermelon (40,000 cedis, it was HUGE) and carved it. We had to eat all the watermelon inside, so not to waste, of course, so I don’t think I will want to eat watermelon ever again. Tuesday night we dressed up (I was a gangsta, Maura was a pirate, Laura was a fairy, Karen was a witch/dead/scary person, Siri was little red riding hood, Kayla was a gipsy, Ryan was Indiana Jones/murderer with two machetes, Charles was Arthur, Arthur was Arthur, Weston was a red neck, Joel was a roman/people thought he was jesus ( I am not sure why), Melinda was a bat, Ryan was a Viking woman?) and headed down to night market to liven up the spirits there. We marched around, a bunch of white people, me and a couple of Asians dressed strangely, shouting happy Halloween and passing out candy to the ladies that worked at night market. Mavis, a teenage girl who supplies us with our sweets addiction, thought I was being a “nigga” and marched around with us yelling happy Halloween. We probably freaked out a lot of people, but that was our intention I think. Then we had a bonfire in a field behind ISH and told ghost stories, or something, before heading back. There were two carved watermelon and one cocoa fruit jack-o-lanterns, which looked very nice. Karen and Siri experienced their first Halloween here in Ghana and we Americans upheld our centuries old tradition of trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat. :)
Saturday night is C.J.’s (one of our Nigerian friends) birthday, so we might be doing something fun for that. Tonight we are going to Jazz Tones for cheesecake (hopefully) and then to Aphrodiasiac (a club) for ladies night. I have two more weeks left of class, then I am heading to the North for the week of Thanksgiving, then I have exams, then I head to the Western Region, Ashanti Region and maybe Brong-Ahafo region for what has been deemed the “Whirlwind Tour.” Then it will be time to leave. Essentially, I have three weekends left in Accra, and next Saturday I am going back to Togo. Time is going by TOO quickly!

Le weekend au Togo

I am way behind on my blogs, so I appologize.
This past weekend I travelled to Togo, Ghana's Francophone neighbor to the east. It was a three hour tro-tro ride to the border from Accra. The first sign that we were nearing French influence were the baguettes being sold on the street (yum). The border crossing was easy, but it was crazy that immediately there was a change in language. We hailed a taxi to Lome and our hotel (Hotel du Boulevard) for $2. I think we might have gotten ripped off, but it was in CFAs and we were just begining to understand the conversion (we would first convert CFA, 500=$1USD and then convert that to cedis $1 = roughly 10,000cedis, in order to determine what was a good price). The hotel was $10/room/night, which I thought was a bit much for the dusty, slightly decrepit hotel with a rickity fan and kinda dirty bathrooms, but whatever, we were in the capital. We went in search of food upon arrival and ate spaghetti with an omelette on top (weird, but tasty) and baguettes for $2. When walking the streets of Lome you cannot avoid the tons and tons of motorbikes. It was like a bike rally, there were so many. These are used for local transportation (i.e. no tro-tros in lome, only bush taxis and scooters/motorcycle). The next morning we got up early and headed to the crossainterie next to our hotel. Wow. If the french did anything in Africa that was positive, it was the introduction of French cuisine. I had a crossaint with cheese and ham and a chocolate crossaint ($2) for breakfast. Then we headed to the grand marche. this wasn't particularly special, just a typical market with vendors of various objects (watches, jewelry, peppers, fabric). A couple of positives about Lome...less harassment (maybe they knew we spoke english?) and no open sewers! It was alot less busy and a lot more relaxed than Accra. The beaches were uber clean as well. When we were walking along the beach, we watched some fishers check out their catch. Then we noticed that they had a huge object caught in their net that was moving...it was a sea turtle. it was really depressing watching it thrash. They said that they were going to eat it, but it was sad. Then we found a man who spend two weeks making art on sand mounds with sea shells. We attempted to check out the presidential palace, but the walls were too high to see over. We then traversed the rue de 13 Janvier, got our luggage from the hotel and caught a taxi towards Lake Togo.
We stopped in Aveposo to stay in a bungalow on the beach called Chez Alice. Alice is a nice swiss woman who runs this funky, african decorated hotel with two monkeys, a baboon and a ton of cats/dogs. And the hotel was cheap...$2 for each of us to stay in a bungalow with fan and mosquito nets. We chilled at the beach for a bit and found a place for dinner called Pumpkin Fast Food. It was incredible. REAL butter on REAL baguettes and couscous with delicious sauce ($2). The owner of the restaurant liked us and wanted us to come back for breakfast. So we did. And it was also amazing. Omelettes, cafe au lait, baguettes (with REAL butter, haha), and pancakes with chocolate sauce ($2). From here we got a taxi to Hotel le Lac on lake togo. We took a canoe (une pirogue) across the lake for a pricy $5/person to Togoville, the first city in Togo that the Germans visited and also the place where the cheif signed the rights to Togo to the Germans. Togoville is also extremely proud that the pope visited in 1985. Some men tried to swindle us for a tour (they wanted 5 euros ($8)/person for a tour of the tiny village!) but the man that brought us on the canoe took us around, showed us the cathedral built by the Germans/Spanish, his house, and his friend's house who tried to get us to buy his art. Conveniently, our last stop at Togoville was the gift shop. On the way back across the lake I got soaked. We headed back to the border Sunday afternoon, got what we came for (a new stamp that would extend our sixty day stamp until December), and then headed back.
I really liked Togo...mostly because I got to practice my French. The first night there I was really rusty and had a horrible time trying to convey myself. However, By sunday I only wanted to talk to people in French. That's when I realized..hey, i can survive in Senegal. We were two french speakers on the trip and two non-french speakers, so it was a bit hard to practice because we kept having to translate for the others. But it was still a great experience. The only downfall was the lack of tro-tros, so transportation was pricey (like $1-$2/per person/per ride). We will be heading back to Togo in three weeks because the Norweigans' visas only last for a month whereas ours last for 6 months, so to make multiple entry worthwhile we want to go twice and because I am leaving in 80 days, not 60 so I need to once again extend my stamp (such a hassle). We won't be going to Lome again but instead to the mountains/valley that border Ghana.

"America is oppressive"

So as of today I have been in the country for a month. YAY! How am I celebrating? I had class at 7:30 and now I am at my internship. Maybe tonight we are going to get Indian food for dinner. mmm. Things for me have been good thus far. No sickness (knock on wood), classes are good, food is good. My top ten favorite foods so far: 1. Fried Plantains 2. Red Red and Plantains 3 . Waykie and rice 4. Fried Yams 5. Ghanaian chocolate 6. Omelette and plantain pancakes 7. meat pies 8. Burgers ground nuts 9. butter bread 10. banana cake. Two nights ago I fried my own plantains. they were amazing.
After a month of solitude in my room, I got a roommate. She is a med student from Tema, in Accra, and her mother is Nigerian. She wants to go into either hematology or surgery, i think. She wants to go out of the country so that she can specialize in something and she was thinking about the states. But she had quite an interesting view of the states that I wasn't expecting to hear. She said "America is oppressive." I ask her to explain. She said that in America she couldn't walk down the street and say "homosexuality is wrong." Here she could say that and everyone would agree with her. I think she means oppressive in that if you said that, someone would disagree and probably argue. I told her that there are people who would agree with her, but that just as she has the right to say that, someone else has the right to tell her they disagree. On a divergent note, can we discuss this homosexuality issue. Since you probably don't follow Ghanaian news, you wouldn't know that this has come to the fore front as a big issue because a group of gay advocates were trying to host conferences in Ghana and the government wouldn't allow it. It has been in all the newspapers, radio and tv. Homosexuality is not accepted in ghana, point blank. Politicians and church leaders have said that gays have horns and will ruin society if they come here to have their conference. There is no point arguing, it is totally unacceptable. So that is why my roommate knows that if she said it in the streets in Ghana, everyone would agree.
She also said that if she was in America she wouldn't be able to spank her children. This made me laugh as I told her I was spanked, many a times. I told her what I believe, that spanking will always be accepted as a mechanism for punishment in black homes (haha) but that yes, if you do it in a public place, you could get in trouble (I also found out that spanking is illegal in Norway). She also doesn't think that America is very Christian. She didn't think that she would ever be able to find a boyfriend because the boys in America don't go to church and wouldn't be able to challenge her and help her grow spiritually. She also didn't think that black men in America were very attractive, since they put all the attractive ones on tv. Americans, or white people as she said, are cold, unappreciative, unfriendly and selfish. She said that if a white was walking from a store that was closed and she was walking to the store, the white wouldn't tell her it was closed. I don't necessarily see this as rude, because how would you know she was going to the store? But I do agree that we are very individualistic and we try to figure out things on our own and as a whole we aren't very willing to ask for help and sometimes not very accepting when it is offered to us. We also don't pay for each other when we go out to eat (which is really common here, one person pays to take their friends out and doesn't expect reimbursement) and we will harass you until you pay us back if we do pay for you.
She also told me that she would NEVER approach a boy if she was interested...it was his role to approach her (she said that approaching him would compromise herself and send the wrong message....).
This conversation really enlightened me about Ghanaians. It also drew attention to issues that I wouldn't think about, but are very important to her where America is lacking. It is tough though, because I am holding my tongue on many things that she has said because I don't want to insult her or her culture. I do try to offer her some insight on my beliefs and thoughts without encroaching on hers.
This weekend we are going to Hohoe in the Volta region. We are hiking up the tallest mountain in Ghana (which is supposedly a hill, not much of a mountain) and going to Wli falls, the tallest waterfalls in West Africa. Hohoe is right on the border with Togo and is a five hour tro-tro ride from here. We are leaving tomorrow afternoon. I am excited, its the first time we are going into the country and not to the beach.

Celine Dion, Jesus and a host of other topics

So, for all of you who thought that coming to Africa I would lose a lot of weight...If I do anything it will be gain. All i eat is carbs carbs carbs and that's three times a day. I feel the pudge coming on. So no worries, I won't return skin and bones, i will probably come back 10 pounds heavier haha. It actually rained today, which was exciting. The weather has been warm, not hot, and a little overcast. Two people in our crew have come down with Malaria..no good.
So enough about me, lets talk about Ghanaians.

First, Music preferences. Delilah (you know the soft rock queen) would be quite content with the amount of listeners she would draw here in Ghana. In bars, restaurants, the political science department, tro-tros and taxis, Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, Shania Twain, Tim McGraw, Lionel Richie and a host of 80s/90s soft rock and R&B blare. Celine Dion seems to be a favorite and it is totally appropriate to sing along, especially the men. Beyonce, Jay-Z, Sean Paul, Tupac, and Neyo are also played frequently.

Second, Jesus. Ghana is like 90 percent Christian, and they are quite proud of this. On tro-tros, you can read scriptures, taxis have names such as Lord our Savior, Have you prayed today?, and He died for you. Shops incorporate their christian identities in their titles: Blood of Jesus hair salon and Lord the Almighty car parts. Its kinda intense actually. But quite interesting...

Third, transportation. Ghanaians don't like to walk. Hence the extensive tro-tro and metro bus service. I dont mind walking, but there is a tro-tro that runs from near the ISH to the main gate for 1000 cedis (10 cents). Its only like a ten-fifteen minute walk, but you hardly run into a Ghanaian, especially a female, walking the path. I think this could be due in part to the fact that they wear heels to class. Today a woman got on a tro tro with a chicken and a goat. They put the goat in the back and she held the chicken in her lap. That was interesting. But tro-tros are actually a great idea. They go everywhere, and they come every few minutes. Sure, I have gotten on the wrong tro-tro before and ended up somewhere I didn't have intentions of being, but that's how you learn the system, right?

Fourth, I would like to offer you a view into things I have noticed that are acceptable here but would probably be taboo in the states.

Men holding hands.

Someone harassing you on the street to buy toilet paper.

Going to the bathroom with the door open.

Drinking beer at breakfast, lunch and/or dinner. (but public drunkeness is only accepted at funerals and weddings, i think.)

Singing along with Celine in public places, especially if you are a guy.

Walking in the street (but running over pedestrians doesn't seem to be taboo, so its best to be careful)

Cutting in line.

Littering.

Hissing, snapping, and making kissing sounds at females.

Cell phones in class.

Fifth, Classes. I have had three so far. The first, international conflicts and resolution, was a class of 100+ and was addressed by the TA. Everyone was talking while he was trying to explain. Then everyone was shouting. Then everyone was raising their hands and then they were talking. I was very confused, because A) I couldn't hear the professor and B) I couldn't understand him. My second class had 150+ and went something like this. I got there fifteen minutes early but still had to sit in the back. Then the people who got there on time had to squeeze into the desks that were already occupied. SO it was hot, sticky, no power (it was out all day yesterday), and squeezed in a one person desk with two people. not to mention, everyone was talking while the prof was, he wrote stuff on the board, but I couldn't see it at all, so i doodled and copied the girl who was sitting next to me (who couldn't hear either). People also answered their phones during class. Today's class was a lot better...40 kids, I sat in the front, and the prof spoke clearly and slow and it seemed like the students respected her more, as they shut up. The content of the classes is kind of disappointing...each class is offered once a week for two hours and there is only 13 weeks of teaching, so not much is really going to get taught. I have also learned alot of what the courses are proposed to teach.

So far, I am having a great and interesting experience. I will continue to try to convey on here what I see everyday. AND quit harassing me about pictures. I am in a third world country, lest you forgot. I am working on getting pics up!