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Published: September 2nd 2007
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Duka??
really now? This morning I woke up after a wonderful night’s rest, did some yoga with the girls, and had a light breakfast. Today was a travel day to get from the south coastal part of Ghana to the northern part. We arrived at the Accra airport, of which the domestic flight terminal was mmm much smaller than the international one. We checked in, I was handed my plane ticket (which had my name handwritten and misspelled), and we sat and waited until the plane was to take off. After following Thomas’ wonderful advice, we arrived a bit later than someone from the US would normally, since Thomas’ knew that it would be late. The plane was only a little bit late, and security to get on was no where near as intense as the US, or the Netherlands for that matter. I hopped onto a shuttle bus, and was taken to this plane that I couldn’t believe the size. It was so small, I had to count the windows just to see… only 16 window long!!! There were 11 ½ rows of 2 seats on each side. I was in seat 5A, sitting next to the window and a man reading something
Eliz and me!
(taken by Sarah) Here we are waiting for the plane at the airport in Accra about how to write a thesis. I was also lucky enough to sit way too close to the propeller, so my entire ride was the most and longest I have ever been vibrated. My brain was vibrating the entire hour and a half. It was sickening. What made it so bad is that I could hear conversations around me slowly vibrating into the conversation I was having with the man next to me. The man only started talking to me after I left him use the tray in front of me (since he was swamped with all the thesis papers). Keep in mind that the conversation of the two gentlemen in front of me sounded as if two little kids were talking through a rotating fan like I used to always do. The conversation with the man next to me (Samuel) some how got to the balance between expectations and achievements. While it is always great to have your achievements greater than or equal to your expectations, it is good to always keep your expectations higher than your achievements, as long as it only creates good stress. Once bad, negative stress comes into your life, you must cut it out.
It was a good conversation, despite the nauseating vibrations.
In the meantime, the landscape out my window continuously changed. It went from the “metropolitan” Accra capital scene to the dry, red-dirt village-spotted North. After a successful landing, we de-boarded the plane (it was a rough two or three steps down) and walked to the completely open-air airport, where the plane arrivals and departures were written on a chalkboard. Our luggage was literally carted over, and placed on top of ledge, from which we grabbed our luggage. We eventually got into the cars - this day I had Rashid as my driver. Rashid’s car always had the best music, so I quickly learned that his car was the choice car if music was the important part. That day, I was exposed to the musical stylings of Lucky Dube, a South African reggae band, which was rather good.
On the ride into town, we saw all different types of crops: rice, corn (which they call maize over there), teak wood/trees. We also saw these HUGE anthills. I don’t know if there is any good picture of them, but I may be able to find some video. There were goats everywhere! We went
through Tamale and straight to the Marium Hotel for lunch, where I enjoyed some waychee - which is a beans (which is really black eyed peas) and rice dish, with some piece of Roasted (thank you William) chicken. It was also served with a delicious tomato based sauce. The reason that I thank William about the “roasted” is that William made sure to clarify the English for us one day. To cook some thing, or to say it is cooked means that it was made in some sort of pot. However, to say to roast, or that it is roasted, means that it was cooked over an open fire. Therefore, my chicken was roasted.
After lunch, we went to the Nyohini Orphanage. Here we talked with the workers and then we went to visit the children. As what happened at the Missionaries of Charities, these children immediately (not that it isn’t obvious) realize that we are visitors, and that they can get attention from us. So, within two seconds of being there, a 3 year old Joe comes straight up to me, raising his hands to be picked up (how could I resist!?!?). He was quite the sharp 3 year
Northern Landscape
Notice the distinct change... and that propeller made me sick! old. He was very talkative, and told me the names of all the other children around. Very, very intelligent. He would also cry if I even tried to put him down. It was a rough departure, but I somehow got him down, and let him hold my hand, before he slowly got disinterested and walked away.
Apparently on the way back, the other car saw a live bull tied to the top of a bus. The shock prevented any reaction, and therefore no picture to prove it.
After this, we checked into our hotel, where they have a pet monkey. Once in my room, I turned on the TV and the only thing I got was some Christian cartoons about “The Good Samaritan” and the greedy debtor. It was interesting… and I was strangely captivated. After I finished that, I began to walk around the hotel, and eventually found Serena. Serena and I decided to walk around, somehow reaching the Oxfam building, and getting back before the sun set. So we set out on our journey. Well, after not too many minutes, my eye was caught by the sight of a rainbow! It was absolutely beautiful - see the pictures!
We walked past the Oxfam building, made it to some type of forest which we assumed was teak, and heard the strangest bird. Reference video once up.
We returned, and we were able to meet Thomas’ beautiful family of three children, Lane, the CRS publicist/journalist eventually stationed in Senegal, and had reflection time. We then were measured for our dresses, and walked back to the main building of the hotel (the Gariba Lodge) to meet the employees of CRS Tamale - Hippolyt, Katie, Clara, John, Aidan and Kwasi. For dinner, I ended up next to Kwasi and Thomas, at the same table as Diana, Barbara and Clara. Kwasi was a delightful person to sit next to with a great sense of humor. To only say a few things about him, he can speak French, is originally from Kumasi, and knows many a different handshake. For dinner this evening, I had some mutton soup, guinea fowl, white rice with peas, all with 3 different sauces (mustard, SPICY SPICY, and regular). Everything was all around delicious. The one thing I wrote in my journal I feel like noting at the end of this day was: Ghana is the place that one would
Village
I assume... never think I would belong or fit in… yet I experienced quite the opposite. I had never felt so at ease in a new place where I really don’t know anyone. While yes, I had a comfortable, privileged view of the country in my opinion, I think no matter what, Ghanaian people are in general friendly, welcoming, warm and absolutely hilarious. If for nothing else, I am glad and lucky to have that experience of feeling welcome and comfortable in a new place.
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