Accra Adventure

This morning, Fran and Naomi worked to grind the corn that had been fermenting for a few days in water into a meal for making banku. Fran also saved the oranges, tangerines, and limes before they went too ripe by squeezing them into juice, which was delicious both with breakfast and dinner.

I spent today down in Accra, meeting up with Maddie. She's the sister of a friend of my boyfriend, and is working on an international internship teaching HIV/AIDS education classes to 12-15 year olds at a school here. She'd already been here for three weeks when I landed in Accra last weekend, and the day finally came when the two of us were free. It was a lesson in traveling solo in Ghana for sure, I had to take a cab to a place I'd never seen before to meet with someone for the first time. One great thing about Ghana, though, is that no matter where you are, you can stop someone on the street and ask for directions. If they don't know, they'll ask someone else who does or point you in a general direction and tell you to ask anyone in that area, they'll know. When searching for a restaurant Maddie had been to a few weeks ago, we were delivered personally by a woman we askedto a place to grab lunch (not the same place, but still good, still close to the ocean). I got some red red with fish, a really popular dish around here. It's ripe plantain and cowpeas (black eyed peas) cooked with palm oil which gives it a bright color, thus the name. My fish watched me as I ate, though. It was a bit uncomfortable.

On the way back, my lesson on travel in Ghana continued, as my taxi broke down on the Motorway several kilometers from the road into Community 18 where I'm staying. I had to wave down another cab, get in with three strangers, and go first to where they needed to go before heading back to the house. No problems, I'm getting familiar with the area enough to find my way back to Abattoir Road and through the more residential streets.

Dinner was some boiled cocoyam, yam, and ripe plantain accompanied by the leftover palm nut soup and some fried beans. All in all pretty good. Dessert, of course, was fresh mango (which is so unbelievably good here, I don't even like mango very much in the states).

PAY YOUR TITHE

After tackling some technical difficulties this morning, Fran and I took a cab into Accra to take care of some grocery shopping. Around here, it really isn't a one stop in-and-out ordeal when you have practically an entire kitchen to stock.


We waited around for a little while for the cab with Kay, one of the builders working on the house.




















I befriended some chickens that live in the yard (the same ones that kindly wake me up with the sun). First stop was the grocery store at the Accra Mall. It's a Shoprite, and I could only think of my friend back home, Becky, who works at a Shoprite in North Central New Jersey. It's absolutely true, you can go 5,000 miles, but in today's shrinking world, you'll still find things that are exactly the same. For instance, there's a shop that sells music near the house. They blast songs all day, and every once in a while I'll hear a song that's become pretty popular at least up at Penn State. Strange strange feeling for sure.




We went to a place called Koala further into Accra for fresh produce. it was a more popular place with foreigners, and I felt less awkward as the obroni in the crowd. (Obroni is the local equivalent to Gringa)






One thing I've come to really like are all of the super christian messages lettered across the backs of taxicabs and vans. The majority of the time, they're in English, but there's something almost humorous about them, in my opinion. I tried to get a few more pictures, but the battery on my camera quit during the ride. I'll be sure to get a more complete series of these pictures going. I've got some other plans for photo sets, but I'll talk more about that as I actually get to taking those pictures. The cabs also have a lot of great Ghanaian flags and some pretty fun bumper stickers.







On the ride back to the house, we bought some tiger nuts from one of the many venders that walk through traffic selling all kinds of things, from plantain chips to Ghanaian flags to the plastic vuvuzelas you hear during all of the world cup matches. We also stopped at a small shop on the side of Abattoir road, a dirt road full of potholes from the rain, to get some African yams. I'm talking big, heavy, huge, yams that would bring a tear to Okonkwo's eye, not the wimpy orange yams we see in American grocery stores. I'll be cooking with them tomorrow (judging by the pile, we'll be cooking with them for a few days). The tuna can is there for a size reference.