June 29, 2009
Today I met the chief of Tamale. If I had known I was going to meet the chief, I would have worn some African clothes, or at least dressed nicer than I did today. I was invited to go to town to “run some errands” and I thought it would be nice to get out of the house. Jason wanted to meet with the chief to ask him if he could buy the chief’s drums from him, and that was one of the errands on the list today. The chief lives in a compound in the center of Tamale with round huts like the ones in the villages, but all made of concrete. When we first arrived, we had to wait in a little courtyard with many benches in the shade of a tree. There were other chiefs and guards sitting out there waiting. All of the chiefs I have seen wear these hats that have a tight band around the head and then go back to a loose floppy part that hangs over the back of their head. All of the chiefs I have seen also wear glasses and use canes to walk. I’m not sure if they need them or if it is just a sign of being a chief. The chief himself was sitting in one of the round huts with a door facing us, so we could see him inside. He was on a chair on an elevated platform so he would always be seated higher than everybody else. After waiting in the courtyard, Babs (our hotel owner/store manager/friend) came back to us and told us the chief was very busy today, but if we came tomorrow at any time he would see us. I was fine with that; I wasn’t too sure about being with the chief when Jason asked for his drums, in case it was very offensive. Then, someone told us the chief had changed his mind and would see us. We went around to the back side of the main compound and gave some people some money, and then we went into a separate room to see the chief. I guess it was an honor that he took us into a private room to meet with him. We had to remove our shoes to enter. The room was carpeted, which I had never seen before, and it was one of the nicest rooms I’ve seen in Ghana. An old man who was a chief or a subchief led us into the room, and sat on the floor in front of us and clapped. Then he left. (Jason told me later that the clapping signifies shaking hands, because you cannot shake hands with the chief.) Jason started to speak to the chief, and then the chief interrupted him and told him he should speak to Babs, and then Babs would speak to the chief for him. It was a little weird, because the chief would respond directly to Jason, sometimes right after Jason had told something to Babs, and he spoke very good English. I just sat there and said nothing. The chief was very happy to give Jason his old drums if Jason would pay the price of having new ones made. The chief also said he wanted to visit the US. He told us he watches American TV and he enjoys the culture. I really wonder what he would think if he did come to the US. (For starters, it's probably not like whatever TV show he's been watching.) He definitely would not have the special treatment he gets here, and many people would want to shake his hand I am sure. I guess we’ll find out if he ever comes.
So now I have “met” the most powerful man in Tamale. I don’t really feel like I met him, because I was not introduced and he did not acknowledge my presence at all. I’m pretty sure he didn’t look at me the whole time we were there. Still, how many people can say they have sat with the chief?
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Crocs, Slave Camp, and Burkina Faso
June 28, 2009
Yesterday we went to Paga, the northernmost city in Ghana. In Paga, there are a couple of ponds with sacred crocodiles in them that you can touch and sit on for photos. The crocodiles are sacred in that they cannot be killed, and supposedly they have never harmed a human. I was skeptical of this, but when we got to the pond I felt like the crocodiles must be pretty safe. There were people washing clothes in the water, and a few men waded several feet from the shoreline (with crocodiles visible nearby) to throw a fishing net into the water. Animals drank from the pond although it is the rainy season and if the pond were dangerous, they could find somewhere else to go. All of these things convinced me that the crocodiles were safe. We paid some local men a fee and they took us to the pond with chickens to lure the crocodiles out of the water. Since there were four of us, we got four chickens. First, they fed a smaller crocodile so it would leave us alone, and then they made a couple of them squawk at the biggest crocodile so it would come out of the water to be fed. I admit I was still a little nervous to go up next to the very biggest crocodile and put my hand on its back.
While we were there taking pictures with the crocodiles, one of the men who was guiding us decided it would be a good idea to throw one of the chickens to some of the smaller crocs who were coming close so they would leave us alone. He didn’t quite throw it close enough for the crocodile to catch it in its mouth, so the chicken ran back straight at me. I realized that if the chicken was right next to me the crocodile would come to me to catch it (and possibly catch me instead of the chicken), so I ran. The chicken followed me. Eventually the chicken passed me and the small crocodiles stopped running at me, in fact they stopped running at all because the chicken got too far away. The whole thing felt very surreal, and afterwards I could hardly believe I had come so close to being attacked by a pack of “tame” crocodiles. I really could have been hurt if the chicken had gotten stuck between me and the crocodiles. In hindsight, I don’t think the picture with the crocodiles was worth the risk.
After photographing the crocodiles, we went across the road to the Pikworo Slave Camp. Pikworo apparently means “place of rocks,” and it is well named. There are small boulders scattered across the landscape, and there are a couple of places where the bedrock juts out of the ground. I’m not sure who ran this slave camp, but it was a pretty small place. We got to see the bowls carved into the bedrock for captured slaves to eat from, and there were only about 20 of them. Our guide told us that there were about 200 slaves in the camp at a time, and they would eat in shifts. We also got to see the drum rocks where the slaves entertained themselves in the evening. These rocks are apparently hollow in some places so they sound like drums. Some locals played a couple of songs for us that were fun to listen to. Our guide told us that they were the same songs that the slaves used to play, and that they sang a song about how lucky the slaves were to be going to good jobs in a new land. Somehow, I doubt that’s really what they sang about. But who knows? Maybe they really wanted to believe things would be okay for them. I think it is also interesting that the chief of Paga (and the slave camp is right in the middle of Paga) was very opposed to slavery and would lead raids on the camp from time to time to try and free the slaves. I’m guessing the slave camp must not have been constantly occupied, or else it would have been really easy to wipe it out.
After seeing the slave camp, we decided to cross the border into Burkina Faso, just so we could say we had been there. A man told us we could just walk across the border if we weren’t planning to stay in Burkina Faso, so we told the people at the Ghana Immigrations building that’s what we wanted to do. The man there wanted us to leave our passports as assurance that we would come back, but we told him if we had to leave our passports we wouldn’t go. He laughed and then told us to go on through. As soon as we walked out of the gate, people began to speak to us in French. We would say “Hello” and then they would go away; I think they must not have spoken English. The signs also were all in French, except for the baskets for sachets of “Pure Water.” I was a little puzzled about why there was nothing from the Burkina Faso people to officially allow us into the country. We walked around for about 10 minutes, took our picture by a Burkina Faso sign to prove we had been there, and walked out. When we got back to the car, Peter read in the guidebook that the Burkina Faso welcome gate is about a kilometer past the Ghana exit gate. So were we really in Burkina Faso? I think yes, if only because of the sudden language change. But you are free to disagree, because we didn’t “officially” enter the country.
Yesterday we went to Paga, the northernmost city in Ghana. In Paga, there are a couple of ponds with sacred crocodiles in them that you can touch and sit on for photos. The crocodiles are sacred in that they cannot be killed, and supposedly they have never harmed a human. I was skeptical of this, but when we got to the pond I felt like the crocodiles must be pretty safe. There were people washing clothes in the water, and a few men waded several feet from the shoreline (with crocodiles visible nearby) to throw a fishing net into the water. Animals drank from the pond although it is the rainy season and if the pond were dangerous, they could find somewhere else to go. All of these things convinced me that the crocodiles were safe. We paid some local men a fee and they took us to the pond with chickens to lure the crocodiles out of the water. Since there were four of us, we got four chickens. First, they fed a smaller crocodile so it would leave us alone, and then they made a couple of them squawk at the biggest crocodile so it would come out of the water to be fed. I admit I was still a little nervous to go up next to the very biggest crocodile and put my hand on its back.
While we were there taking pictures with the crocodiles, one of the men who was guiding us decided it would be a good idea to throw one of the chickens to some of the smaller crocs who were coming close so they would leave us alone. He didn’t quite throw it close enough for the crocodile to catch it in its mouth, so the chicken ran back straight at me. I realized that if the chicken was right next to me the crocodile would come to me to catch it (and possibly catch me instead of the chicken), so I ran. The chicken followed me. Eventually the chicken passed me and the small crocodiles stopped running at me, in fact they stopped running at all because the chicken got too far away. The whole thing felt very surreal, and afterwards I could hardly believe I had come so close to being attacked by a pack of “tame” crocodiles. I really could have been hurt if the chicken had gotten stuck between me and the crocodiles. In hindsight, I don’t think the picture with the crocodiles was worth the risk.
After photographing the crocodiles, we went across the road to the Pikworo Slave Camp. Pikworo apparently means “place of rocks,” and it is well named. There are small boulders scattered across the landscape, and there are a couple of places where the bedrock juts out of the ground. I’m not sure who ran this slave camp, but it was a pretty small place. We got to see the bowls carved into the bedrock for captured slaves to eat from, and there were only about 20 of them. Our guide told us that there were about 200 slaves in the camp at a time, and they would eat in shifts. We also got to see the drum rocks where the slaves entertained themselves in the evening. These rocks are apparently hollow in some places so they sound like drums. Some locals played a couple of songs for us that were fun to listen to. Our guide told us that they were the same songs that the slaves used to play, and that they sang a song about how lucky the slaves were to be going to good jobs in a new land. Somehow, I doubt that’s really what they sang about. But who knows? Maybe they really wanted to believe things would be okay for them. I think it is also interesting that the chief of Paga (and the slave camp is right in the middle of Paga) was very opposed to slavery and would lead raids on the camp from time to time to try and free the slaves. I’m guessing the slave camp must not have been constantly occupied, or else it would have been really easy to wipe it out.
After seeing the slave camp, we decided to cross the border into Burkina Faso, just so we could say we had been there. A man told us we could just walk across the border if we weren’t planning to stay in Burkina Faso, so we told the people at the Ghana Immigrations building that’s what we wanted to do. The man there wanted us to leave our passports as assurance that we would come back, but we told him if we had to leave our passports we wouldn’t go. He laughed and then told us to go on through. As soon as we walked out of the gate, people began to speak to us in French. We would say “Hello” and then they would go away; I think they must not have spoken English. The signs also were all in French, except for the baskets for sachets of “Pure Water.” I was a little puzzled about why there was nothing from the Burkina Faso people to officially allow us into the country. We walked around for about 10 minutes, took our picture by a Burkina Faso sign to prove we had been there, and walked out. When we got back to the car, Peter read in the guidebook that the Burkina Faso welcome gate is about a kilometer past the Ghana exit gate. So were we really in Burkina Faso? I think yes, if only because of the sudden language change. But you are free to disagree, because we didn’t “officially” enter the country.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Strange Cows
Here in Ghana, animals roam the streets freely. The most common animals are goats/sheep (I'm not really sure how to tell the difference; they all look the same to me), but cows are very common as well. Very few of these animals have markings, but supposedly everybody in the community knows who they belong to and only uses their own animals for food. I'm not sure about the protocols dealing with roadkill, but it has to happen fairly often because of people's poor driving and the animals' stupidity.
But back to the cows. The cows here are the strangest looking cows I have ever seen. Most of them have these odd humps on their backs, which seem to be fatty and not bony. I have seen them wobbling back and forth on some of the cows. It is like they are crosses between cows and camels. Many of them also have ripply fringes of loose skin hanging down from their necks, some from their bellies as well. The horns also seem to grow however they feel like: up, down, sideways, curved, etc. There isn't a lot of uniformity. So here is a picture of one of these strange cows for your enjoyment.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
TZ
You can see my June 11 entry for more details. The TZ is the white stuff in my hand (as it's mostly gone, you can tell it is the part of the meal that I liked), the meat is Guinea Fowl, and the soup is something weird and gross.
Beginning of June
June 9, 2009
Ever since we got back from Mole I have had a terrible cold. Yesterday I felt a lot worse, but today I have a worse cough. Don’t worry—the symptoms of a cold are not the symptoms for malaria or typhoid, so I’m not dangerously ill. Nothing of note has happened the last couple of days. We are just continuing on with our jobs as usual.
There have been a couple of funny things we have seen that I have wanted to write about, but forgot. Here is one that I remember right now.
Almost all of the taxis around here have things written on the back, probably for good fortune or to send a message or something. The other day when we were driving around, we saw a taxi proclaiming:
God is God
Burger
People here don’t eat burgers, and so I’m not really sure what was meant by that.
And here is another. Today, Zet, our cook, told me that Africa is good for me because I am getting fatter since I’ve been here. I know she meant it as a compliment because here it is good to be fat, so I tried to seem happy to hear that. I thought it was funny that what is a compliment here is an insult at home. I don’t actually think it is true. Apparently she also had told Peter this a few times before, and he (at least he said this to me) thought to himself that I had actually lost weight since being here. Now don’t anybody worry that I’m very concerned about my weight, either gaining or losing. I mostly just thought it was funny.
Another thing. People here call plastic “rubber.” And a plastic bag is also a rubber. It really confused me when I first heard it, because there is really no rubber around. Just plastic.
June 11, 2009
Today I have tried two new Ghanaian foods. The first is a little bean biscuit called kosi or something like that. It is generally eaten for breakfast. It was good, and it was a little bit spicy. The second new food I have tried today is called TZ (pronounced tee-zet). It is basically a cross between mashed potatoes and homemade play-dough that is made out of corn flour. You dip it into soup. It wasn’t the best food I’ve ever eaten, but it was fine. However, the soup we ate with it was AWFUL. It didn’t really have any flavor, and its texture was that of egg whites. I am not sure that there were not raw egg whites mixed in. No way to tell. However, I ate it anyways, just not very much of it. We’ll see if I am sick tomorrow or not. : -)
We also took our first stab at making pizza here. It turned out pretty well. We used Lauren’s dough recipe (see my blog in April if you’re interested) and some canned spaghetti sauce somebody left here. We will definitely be making it again. It was nice to have food that was like home.
Felicia, one of our Ghanaian friends/employees, came over later in the evening and we told her we had eaten pizza for dinner. She thought it was very funny and asked me why we had a food that was named after Peter, or had we eaten him for dinner. (She pronounces his name Peetah). We realized that people here pronounce pizza “piza” and with the “t” sound in our pronunciation, she thought we ate “Peetah” for dinner.
June 13, 2009
I’m happy to report that I did not get sick from any of the food. In fact, I have not been sick at all except for the cold I had earlier this week. It has been a blessing.
The past couple of days I have been thinking about all of the things I miss about home. It’s been super boring here, and yesterday I didn’t leave the house at all. So here is my list:
1. Raw vegetables and salads. We can’t eat them here unless they are rinsed in bleach first, and lettuce is never safe to eat.
2. Milk products. At home, I eat/drink TONS of milk products, and here, people don’t. They’re hard to find, expensive, and for the most part not very good.
3. Having a job that I like. My job here is boring and stressful. The past couple of days have been particularly boring and stressful.
4. Having a job where I get paid.
5. People who speak American English, and who understand it.
6. Not being a foreigner.
7. Variety in food.
8. Variety in clothing (I’ve started to get sick of the clothes I brought.)
9. Reliable electricity. It is SO frustrating to have the power go out about once per day on average. It’s especially bad if it goes out multiple times in one day.
10. Reliable internet.
11. Fast internet.
12. Family and Friends. You deserve to be at the top of this list.
13. Not having to discuss/listen to business discussions 24/7. There is never a break from work.
14. Weekends.
15. Not having to count money every day.
16. Not having people come ask me for money every day (this is for my job, not beggars. I don’t see beggars every day, because I don’t leave the house every day. But as the “accountant and disburser/collector of funds”, I am perpetually being asked for money).
17. Good roads.
18. Traffic laws that are predictable and generally obeyed.
19. Being in a place where terrible diseases are not lurking around every corner.
20. Being in a place without mosquitoes. (Hurray for the desert!)
21. Mountains.
22. Being able to be cold or warm whenever I want.
23. Car air conditioning.
24. Grocery stores.
25. Ice cream.
26. Citrus fruit. It’s not common here, and the oranges I have eaten have been awful.
27. Soft mattresses.
28. Shower heads that are fixed to the wall and higher than my head.
29. Plumbing that doesn’t back the septic tank smell into the shower on a regular basis (or ever).
30. Movies.
31. Mexican food.
32. Good beef.
33. Cooking my own food.
34. Pandora.
35. Comics.
36. Pizza.
To compliment this homesick list, here are a few things that I love about being here.
1. The fruit here is INCREDIBLE. Particularly the bananas, mangoes, and pineapples. Best I’ve ever tasted.
2. New experiences.
3. New people.
4. Learning about another culture.
5. Visiting villages.
6. African children.
7. African music.
8. African fabrics.
9. Seeing the women who are working on this business succeed.
10. New money. It’s kind of fun.
11. Humidity. Honestly, I really like it.
12. I generally have more free time here, which is sometimes nice.
13. I always have something to write on the blog about.
14. Fun things to photograph.
15. Interesting animals.
16. Interesting plants.
17. Hard, heavy rainfall.
18. Enormous mud puddles. They’re fun to look at. They’re also awful for driving and for the mosquitoes, but if you are inside they are nice.
19. Waking up every morning and having breakfast already cooked.
20. Not washing dishes.
21. Stellar laundry detergent.
22. Sleeping 10+ hours every night. (I go to sleep really early here. It’s dark by 6PM.)
23. Appreciating things I used to take for granted.
24. Learning a new language. I only know a few words so far, but I will learn more before I leave I’m sure.
June 14, 2009
Today I want to write about Ghanaian phone manners. Pretty much everybody here has cell phones. Even in villages with no electricity, people have cell phones. About once a week they walk to a place with electricity to charge their phone. There is almost no situation that is more important than answering your phone. If you are in the middle of a meeting or a conversation, or just about anything else, a Ghanaian will answer his phone before continuing it. Our employees often make exceptions to this when they are talking to/meeting with us, probably because one of the bosses complained and told them it was rude.
It also appears that if you have a Ghanaian’s phone number and you are friends, they expect you to call frequently and for no reason at all, except to touch base. I discovered this from two experiences. First, a few days ago a girl who works at our store gave me her phone number so we could coordinate rides from the store to the Palace. I ended up not needing to call her, and so I never did. Yesterday, she chided me for not calling her. I was surprised, because after the rides were coordinated (without the use of cell phones) I really didn’t have another reason for contacting her. Secondly, this morning Fairuza called me. She asked how I was, and said, “I hope I will see you tomorrow,” and then said goodbye. The conversation was probably under 30 seconds long. I would really never consider calling somebody for that. I probably have terrible Ghanaian phone manners, but I don’t plan to change.
Ever since we got back from Mole I have had a terrible cold. Yesterday I felt a lot worse, but today I have a worse cough. Don’t worry—the symptoms of a cold are not the symptoms for malaria or typhoid, so I’m not dangerously ill. Nothing of note has happened the last couple of days. We are just continuing on with our jobs as usual.
There have been a couple of funny things we have seen that I have wanted to write about, but forgot. Here is one that I remember right now.
Almost all of the taxis around here have things written on the back, probably for good fortune or to send a message or something. The other day when we were driving around, we saw a taxi proclaiming:
God is God
Burger
People here don’t eat burgers, and so I’m not really sure what was meant by that.
And here is another. Today, Zet, our cook, told me that Africa is good for me because I am getting fatter since I’ve been here. I know she meant it as a compliment because here it is good to be fat, so I tried to seem happy to hear that. I thought it was funny that what is a compliment here is an insult at home. I don’t actually think it is true. Apparently she also had told Peter this a few times before, and he (at least he said this to me) thought to himself that I had actually lost weight since being here. Now don’t anybody worry that I’m very concerned about my weight, either gaining or losing. I mostly just thought it was funny.
Another thing. People here call plastic “rubber.” And a plastic bag is also a rubber. It really confused me when I first heard it, because there is really no rubber around. Just plastic.
June 11, 2009
Today I have tried two new Ghanaian foods. The first is a little bean biscuit called kosi or something like that. It is generally eaten for breakfast. It was good, and it was a little bit spicy. The second new food I have tried today is called TZ (pronounced tee-zet). It is basically a cross between mashed potatoes and homemade play-dough that is made out of corn flour. You dip it into soup. It wasn’t the best food I’ve ever eaten, but it was fine. However, the soup we ate with it was AWFUL. It didn’t really have any flavor, and its texture was that of egg whites. I am not sure that there were not raw egg whites mixed in. No way to tell. However, I ate it anyways, just not very much of it. We’ll see if I am sick tomorrow or not. : -)
We also took our first stab at making pizza here. It turned out pretty well. We used Lauren’s dough recipe (see my blog in April if you’re interested) and some canned spaghetti sauce somebody left here. We will definitely be making it again. It was nice to have food that was like home.
Felicia, one of our Ghanaian friends/employees, came over later in the evening and we told her we had eaten pizza for dinner. She thought it was very funny and asked me why we had a food that was named after Peter, or had we eaten him for dinner. (She pronounces his name Peetah). We realized that people here pronounce pizza “piza” and with the “t” sound in our pronunciation, she thought we ate “Peetah” for dinner.
June 13, 2009
I’m happy to report that I did not get sick from any of the food. In fact, I have not been sick at all except for the cold I had earlier this week. It has been a blessing.
The past couple of days I have been thinking about all of the things I miss about home. It’s been super boring here, and yesterday I didn’t leave the house at all. So here is my list:
1. Raw vegetables and salads. We can’t eat them here unless they are rinsed in bleach first, and lettuce is never safe to eat.
2. Milk products. At home, I eat/drink TONS of milk products, and here, people don’t. They’re hard to find, expensive, and for the most part not very good.
3. Having a job that I like. My job here is boring and stressful. The past couple of days have been particularly boring and stressful.
4. Having a job where I get paid.
5. People who speak American English, and who understand it.
6. Not being a foreigner.
7. Variety in food.
8. Variety in clothing (I’ve started to get sick of the clothes I brought.)
9. Reliable electricity. It is SO frustrating to have the power go out about once per day on average. It’s especially bad if it goes out multiple times in one day.
10. Reliable internet.
11. Fast internet.
12. Family and Friends. You deserve to be at the top of this list.
13. Not having to discuss/listen to business discussions 24/7. There is never a break from work.
14. Weekends.
15. Not having to count money every day.
16. Not having people come ask me for money every day (this is for my job, not beggars. I don’t see beggars every day, because I don’t leave the house every day. But as the “accountant and disburser/collector of funds”, I am perpetually being asked for money).
17. Good roads.
18. Traffic laws that are predictable and generally obeyed.
19. Being in a place where terrible diseases are not lurking around every corner.
20. Being in a place without mosquitoes. (Hurray for the desert!)
21. Mountains.
22. Being able to be cold or warm whenever I want.
23. Car air conditioning.
24. Grocery stores.
25. Ice cream.
26. Citrus fruit. It’s not common here, and the oranges I have eaten have been awful.
27. Soft mattresses.
28. Shower heads that are fixed to the wall and higher than my head.
29. Plumbing that doesn’t back the septic tank smell into the shower on a regular basis (or ever).
30. Movies.
31. Mexican food.
32. Good beef.
33. Cooking my own food.
34. Pandora.
35. Comics.
36. Pizza.
To compliment this homesick list, here are a few things that I love about being here.
1. The fruit here is INCREDIBLE. Particularly the bananas, mangoes, and pineapples. Best I’ve ever tasted.
2. New experiences.
3. New people.
4. Learning about another culture.
5. Visiting villages.
6. African children.
7. African music.
8. African fabrics.
9. Seeing the women who are working on this business succeed.
10. New money. It’s kind of fun.
11. Humidity. Honestly, I really like it.
12. I generally have more free time here, which is sometimes nice.
13. I always have something to write on the blog about.
14. Fun things to photograph.
15. Interesting animals.
16. Interesting plants.
17. Hard, heavy rainfall.
18. Enormous mud puddles. They’re fun to look at. They’re also awful for driving and for the mosquitoes, but if you are inside they are nice.
19. Waking up every morning and having breakfast already cooked.
20. Not washing dishes.
21. Stellar laundry detergent.
22. Sleeping 10+ hours every night. (I go to sleep really early here. It’s dark by 6PM.)
23. Appreciating things I used to take for granted.
24. Learning a new language. I only know a few words so far, but I will learn more before I leave I’m sure.
June 14, 2009
Today I want to write about Ghanaian phone manners. Pretty much everybody here has cell phones. Even in villages with no electricity, people have cell phones. About once a week they walk to a place with electricity to charge their phone. There is almost no situation that is more important than answering your phone. If you are in the middle of a meeting or a conversation, or just about anything else, a Ghanaian will answer his phone before continuing it. Our employees often make exceptions to this when they are talking to/meeting with us, probably because one of the bosses complained and told them it was rude.
It also appears that if you have a Ghanaian’s phone number and you are friends, they expect you to call frequently and for no reason at all, except to touch base. I discovered this from two experiences. First, a few days ago a girl who works at our store gave me her phone number so we could coordinate rides from the store to the Palace. I ended up not needing to call her, and so I never did. Yesterday, she chided me for not calling her. I was surprised, because after the rides were coordinated (without the use of cell phones) I really didn’t have another reason for contacting her. Secondly, this morning Fairuza called me. She asked how I was, and said, “I hope I will see you tomorrow,” and then said goodbye. The conversation was probably under 30 seconds long. I would really never consider calling somebody for that. I probably have terrible Ghanaian phone manners, but I don’t plan to change.
African Outfit #2
I think the headwraps look good on African women, but I think mine makes me look like a cancer patient. Which is what Peter lovingly calls me if I wear it.
Peter also has some African outfits that I will photograph whenever he decides to wear them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)