back safely, with one little "see you soon" digestive gift from Ghana. We've been inside all day, despite the lovely sunshine, with what I've decided to call "airplane hangovers." You know the feeling: you've been flying for hours. Your ears are ringing, you're a groggy zombie due to lack of sleep, there's a gungy feeling that you know a shower won't cure, and you have a serious case of the blahs all day. It's an airplane hangover.
I'm sorting through photos now, as well as taking inventories of our house's contents, planning a going-away party, and starting all sorts of errands that need to be done in the next two weeks. I'll try to keep y'all posted.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Netless in Labone
Hi, avid audience! I've ignored you for far too long, blithely assuming I'd make amends when we got back from our trip to Senegal this morning with a big photo post. But Bridgette's router has forgotten all its settings, and Jens can't reset it without knowing what the settings were. so, a quick post from the phone.
Dakar was gorgeous. The weather was cooler and I started speaking French by day 2. Our 1:15am flight back this morning was delayed by 2 hours, so we napped in the pay-to-get-in passenger lounge. Tonight we had plans to go to an Ethiopian restaurant that a new friend saw near her house, but today's update is that the restaurant is only "coming soon." Glad we have time to wait for it!
Our flight back to Dublin leaves tomorrow (Sunday) night at 11pm. I'll post some new photos from the last 2 weeks and update on the packing and closing of accounts and all sorts of other preparations.
Till then, happy trails!
Dakar was gorgeous. The weather was cooler and I started speaking French by day 2. Our 1:15am flight back this morning was delayed by 2 hours, so we napped in the pay-to-get-in passenger lounge. Tonight we had plans to go to an Ethiopian restaurant that a new friend saw near her house, but today's update is that the restaurant is only "coming soon." Glad we have time to wait for it!
Our flight back to Dublin leaves tomorrow (Sunday) night at 11pm. I'll post some new photos from the last 2 weeks and update on the packing and closing of accounts and all sorts of other preparations.
Till then, happy trails!
posted from Bloggeroid
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Being White (preliminary musings)
A short visit only to the city is no way to get a full taste of the country. I know in more rural areas it'll be even more different to be white. But here's what has happened so far.
You step out onto the street and the first, third, fifteenth and last thing you hear is beep-beep! Taxis see a white person and toot to let you know they're here, just in case you should need a taxi. Even when they've seen two taxis before them honk and be ignored. Annoying when I want to walk, but helpful when I really do want a taxi. Just hard to know when the honking behind you is a taxi, and when it's someone using the horn for one of its other myriad uses. Let me list them:
1a. Move, pedestrian!
1b. Move, car!
1c. Move, chickens/goats!
1d. Move, cyclist!
2. Hey, friend! How are you?
3. Thanks for letting me into traffic in front of you.
4. This is a close squeeze!
5. I'm about to turn.
6. This is unfair.
7. I am part of a funeral procession.
8. I'm driving very quickly and don't want to slow down. I advise that you move.
9. My brakes have failed. MOVE NOW.
And then you have more of your standard uses.
You also may hear a couple of kids yelling out "Obroni! Obroni!" (this means "white! white!") or "Hello, how ahh you?" Their faces crack into big smiles if you smile back or wave. I'm still baffled why they get so happy when a white person simply acknowledges them.
Today when I came back to B's house with our laundry from the cleaners, the guards and I had a chat. (The main function of guards here is to open the big gates in front of the driveways, and to always have a presence on the property.) One of them said he loved my bag (Jens's backpacker bag). They were impressed that it allowed you to carry such heavy loads. And then the really cheery smiley one started looking at my freckles. His companion said, "Yes, those are normal on white skin!" From freckles, he saw one of my mosquito bites (only 8 so far, I must be doing pretty well with the bug spray), and the friend said also that this redness is normal for whites. I showed him a very angry bite on my arm that means "My body really hates mosquitoes." Then he saw a vein in my elbow! It looked green! OMG! A third time, the second guard said "Yes, look - you can see my veins in my arm standing up too, just not the color. This is how white skin looks." Then they asked, "Are you a ness?" I didn't understand. "Ness, ness!" Then they asked something that sounded like "Are you medican" so I said, "Yes, I'm American."
"By profession, you are medican?"
"Ohhh, medical, no! I'm not medical. I am a teacher. Not a nurse."
"A teacher by profession!" Their faces erupted in glee. "So you can teach us!"
I really like these guards with their happy smiles and exuberance. They ask how long I'll be gone and always say "Have a nice time" when I go, and "Welcome" when I come back. I went to visit the new apartment today (and SIGNED THE LEASE, hallelujah!) and the guard there was all business in a spiffy uniform. I'd rather have smilers who put me in a happy mood than grimacers who take their job too seriously. I'll take pictures of them before we move out of here.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Trouble Magnet
In the past few days, I've been steps away from trouble more times than coincidence.
On Monday, some guy had stopped me on the street to chat just outside of B's place. As I was talking to him, a car rear-ended a truck behind my back.
Yesterday I checked out the Koala grocery store, and the woman in front of me in line got into some kind of trouble. When I listened in, the owner was telling her to call someone, and that she had broken the law, and he was getting a police officer. Then the police officer came in and told her to come with him, but she said she hadn't known what she did was illegal and she wanted to stay and talk here. She retreated into the store, and the officer came in after her 10 seconds later. I didn't want to be around to find out what had happened.
Then, in the taxi going home from the store, the driver was pulled over for a random check of his license. All was well, but it still made me uneasy!
Last night I went to check out an amateur choir, as I mentioned briefly in the last post. I got a taxi and asked for the Goethe Institut, which the driver didn't know at all. And though it's marked in the right place on Google Maps, a search of the map on my phone put it half a mile away! It's right next door to NAFTI, the National Film and Television Institute, which map search has a mile in the wrong direction in central Accra. Again, if you're not searching for the place by name but just browsing the map, the marker shows up in the correct place. Of course the driver knew NAFTI but hadn't a clue where Goethe, directly next door, was.
Lesson learned, friends: don't always trust maps. Not even Google ones.
As for the choir, it's small, predominantly but not totally made up of expats, and definitely amateur. I don't know if anyone has ever mentioned "blending" to this group. Still, they sing a good mix of classical, pop, art and African stuff, and I'm really excited to start singing again. Everyone is friendly and high-spirited. Just one month till I'm back in town for another rehearsal!
On Monday, some guy had stopped me on the street to chat just outside of B's place. As I was talking to him, a car rear-ended a truck behind my back.
Yesterday I checked out the Koala grocery store, and the woman in front of me in line got into some kind of trouble. When I listened in, the owner was telling her to call someone, and that she had broken the law, and he was getting a police officer. Then the police officer came in and told her to come with him, but she said she hadn't known what she did was illegal and she wanted to stay and talk here. She retreated into the store, and the officer came in after her 10 seconds later. I didn't want to be around to find out what had happened.
Then, in the taxi going home from the store, the driver was pulled over for a random check of his license. All was well, but it still made me uneasy!
Last night I went to check out an amateur choir, as I mentioned briefly in the last post. I got a taxi and asked for the Goethe Institut, which the driver didn't know at all. And though it's marked in the right place on Google Maps, a search of the map on my phone put it half a mile away! It's right next door to NAFTI, the National Film and Television Institute, which map search has a mile in the wrong direction in central Accra. Again, if you're not searching for the place by name but just browsing the map, the marker shows up in the correct place. Of course the driver knew NAFTI but hadn't a clue where Goethe, directly next door, was.
Lesson learned, friends: don't always trust maps. Not even Google ones.
As for the choir, it's small, predominantly but not totally made up of expats, and definitely amateur. I don't know if anyone has ever mentioned "blending" to this group. Still, they sing a good mix of classical, pop, art and African stuff, and I'm really excited to start singing again. Everyone is friendly and high-spirited. Just one month till I'm back in town for another rehearsal!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
FYI on the house
Our landlord's corporate client has opted to take the entire yellow building, so we are going to take the apartment in the blue building. This one looks less cool inside, but is closer to some of the good stuff. Also, it's on two floors. That somehow makes it instantly awesomer.
Did I mention yet that Jens's boss knows everybody? Because tonight I went and checked out an amateur choir, and the other lady singing the alto part with me... lives downstairs from Jens's boss.
Small world!
Did I mention yet that Jens's boss knows everybody? Because tonight I went and checked out an amateur choir, and the other lady singing the alto part with me... lives downstairs from Jens's boss.
Small world!
Shopping, Dancing, Housing
I've been to the crafts market twice already - the first time for a quick jaunt with F, the visiting German Googler on Friday and the second time with Bridgette and Jens on Sunday. Bridgette's been here for a year and it was good to hear her bargaining, switching into a local accent to prove she knows what's going on (and invoking her local boyfriend's name to show she's serious). She got herself a pair of 5-foot-tall masks for 130 cedi, which translates to about $85 - not bad! Jens and I got ourselves a beaded side table and a painting, and promised to come back later when we have an apartment we can furnish.
On Saturday night, Bridgette and her boyfriend and Jens and I went to the Heritage Africa Reality Show finale at the Alliance Francaise. This ambitious show brought ten pre-auditioned couples all around Ghana to learn cultural dancing, music and crafts. They each presented a dance from a different region, along with a presentation on the history, meaning, costumes, and instruments used. A second round had each couple perform a piece of folk music they'd written themselves. The presentations were great! The dancers acted as storytellers rather than lecturers, using facial expressions and a lot of variation in their voices to keep the audience interested. It also helped that each of the four groups remaining at the finals had huge cheering sections. There was a debate on whether the "folk music" presented was really folk, as three of four songs used a full band and sounded like the West African stuff you hear on compilation CDs rather than something you'd hear from a tribe. In the end, the pair I liked best won!
Jens and I spent most of last week house hunting. Contrary to what you think, living here is expensive! Living spaces at an expat standard of living don't generally go for less than $2000 - and are usually priced $2500 and up. Yes, that's in dollars. The other big shocker is that common practice here is to pay a full year's rent in advance. At least you don't have to remember to make the payment every month! We found a landlord we liked who has two places.
The yellow building is newly built and still has a few weeks' work left to do. We love the style and decor of the apartment (and the huge kitchen!), though it's off a bunch of side streets. Jens is charmed by the idea we'd be in the thick of a neighborhood, which is something I still have to get used to.
The problem with the yellow building is that a corporate client expressed interest in taking the entire building for their employees. Of course it's understandable that the landlord wants to save the hassle of renting out each apartment individually when he can take care of all six at once. We're waiting now to hear back from the landlord on the company's decision. In the meantime, as a backup option they offered us an apartment in their other building.
The blue building is much easier to find in a car. It's closer to Oxford Street, which is the main shopping and eating street in the neighborhood. It's not as cool as the apartment in the yellow building, but it is in a duplex style with the bedrooms upstairs. There's a huge living-room space downstairs. All in all, either one would be a good place, and we like the landlord/lady pair. Jens's boss (who knows everyone who's anyone- seriously, you should see her networks in action) knows them and trusts them. So now it's just a waiting game of which place of theirs we get to move into.
Next time: The Sounds of Accra... or maybe The Roads of Accra, I haven't decided yet! Also, I have to tell The Story of the Eventful Monday, when my back was turned to a car crash 10 feet away, I overpaid a taxi horribly, and I bought some fruit.
On Saturday night, Bridgette and her boyfriend and Jens and I went to the Heritage Africa Reality Show finale at the Alliance Francaise. This ambitious show brought ten pre-auditioned couples all around Ghana to learn cultural dancing, music and crafts. They each presented a dance from a different region, along with a presentation on the history, meaning, costumes, and instruments used. A second round had each couple perform a piece of folk music they'd written themselves. The presentations were great! The dancers acted as storytellers rather than lecturers, using facial expressions and a lot of variation in their voices to keep the audience interested. It also helped that each of the four groups remaining at the finals had huge cheering sections. There was a debate on whether the "folk music" presented was really folk, as three of four songs used a full band and sounded like the West African stuff you hear on compilation CDs rather than something you'd hear from a tribe. In the end, the pair I liked best won!
Jens and I spent most of last week house hunting. Contrary to what you think, living here is expensive! Living spaces at an expat standard of living don't generally go for less than $2000 - and are usually priced $2500 and up. Yes, that's in dollars. The other big shocker is that common practice here is to pay a full year's rent in advance. At least you don't have to remember to make the payment every month! We found a landlord we liked who has two places.
The yellow building is newly built and still has a few weeks' work left to do. We love the style and decor of the apartment (and the huge kitchen!), though it's off a bunch of side streets. Jens is charmed by the idea we'd be in the thick of a neighborhood, which is something I still have to get used to.
The problem with the yellow building is that a corporate client expressed interest in taking the entire building for their employees. Of course it's understandable that the landlord wants to save the hassle of renting out each apartment individually when he can take care of all six at once. We're waiting now to hear back from the landlord on the company's decision. In the meantime, as a backup option they offered us an apartment in their other building.
The blue building is much easier to find in a car. It's closer to Oxford Street, which is the main shopping and eating street in the neighborhood. It's not as cool as the apartment in the yellow building, but it is in a duplex style with the bedrooms upstairs. There's a huge living-room space downstairs. All in all, either one would be a good place, and we like the landlord/lady pair. Jens's boss (who knows everyone who's anyone- seriously, you should see her networks in action) knows them and trusts them. So now it's just a waiting game of which place of theirs we get to move into.
Next time: The Sounds of Accra... or maybe The Roads of Accra, I haven't decided yet! Also, I have to tell The Story of the Eventful Monday, when my back was turned to a car crash 10 feet away, I overpaid a taxi horribly, and I bought some fruit.
Friday, February 11, 2011
T. I. A.
No, it's not an ode to my mother. It stands for This Is Africa - things that really could only happen here.
Yesterday was a day of firsts and a day of TIA.
Yesterday it rained. It's the dry season, but we heard from a Ghanaian that they get one or two days of rain even in the dry season. He said it should have already happened, but they hadn't had a day of rain yet this year. Like a prophecy, the next day it rained.
African rain is nothing like Irish drizzle. African rain is pouring water, booming lightning, and whipping wind. All this at the same time we tried to get lunch on the half-covered "Lunch City" restaurant on the roof of Jens's building. The roof flooded with inches of water and we came downstairs soaked. I was ecstatic. No photos, though, since I was at lunch.
Yesterday I was stuck in traffic for three hours. F, a visiting Googler from Germany, and I wanted to go to a market. Google had a second driver for the day, who we asked to bring us to the art market in front of the cultural museum. We ended up going to, or rather past, Makola, an everyday-goods market. Traffic was solid all the way from the office to the market and it took the better part of two hours to get us there. I think the driver was also taking us past a few of Accra's sights along the way. We saw Independence Square, where schoolchildren were rehearsing marches in the stadium in preparation for Independence Day, which is March 6th. I'm bummed I'll miss that!
We also passed by the stadium which was used for the Africa Cup of Nations in 2008.
All this is irrelevant, though, to the sights we saw and the frustration I felt, inching forward with every stoplight but avoiding swerving cars and wandering pedestrians. Traffic moves, but there is still just such a multitude of cars that even with movement, you never get far.
As I mentioned, street vendors carry their wares on top of their heads...
We had just rounded one corner of the market area when the driver asked us, "Do you want to go in or only look?" F shared that he really only wanted to buy a couple of bags of plantain chips, and that he wasn't happy to have lost half a working day already. We asked our driver to skip the market and take us back, but keep his eyes peeled for plantain chips. Our sharp-eyed driver found a vendor and we bought a dozen bags from her.
We also passed a good few cars with funny, interesting, and many religious slogans printed on them.
Yesterday I saw Ghana's essentially cash-only system in action. Cash is used to pay for everything. The currency is the cedi (pronounced seedy), and it's two to the euro, 1.50 to the dollar. The highest bill we've ever seen is a 20, and those are very rare. 10 is a big bill already, and hard for street vendors to break. When an American blogger bought a new car here, she took along bagfuls of cash.
Jens is off to a conference in Senegal the week after next, and I'm tagging along for the week. We had to buy tickets from Air Nigeria. The online booking is only a reservation of the spot, and you have to go to the office in the airport to pay for your ticket within 24 hours. Now, you'd think that at an airline's office, in the airport, they'd take credit cards. That's what Jens thought. You (and Jens, and I for that matter) were wrong.
We hopped into a taxi outside of the office at 3:45pm. Traffic was bumper to bumper for a good 45 minutes. The taxi's fuel gage was showing the orange warning light (a very common sight here) the whole time. He got out of the car three separate times while traffic was at a standstill to open the hood, look at something in the engine, then come back to the driver's seat. We get to the airport, argue about the taxi fare, and head inside... for the first time. There's a security guard checking that all travelers have passports and tickets, and we tell him we're just here to pay for a flight.
At the mercifully line-free Air Nigeria counter, Jens is informed they take cash only. These are not Ryanair fares; these are high-three- and four-figure flight prices. Yikes.
We head off in search of ATMs, and checking that we have enough bank cards to do it thinking about daily withdrawal limits. The ones at the airport don't take mastercards, of which Jens has two that we need to cash in on to get together the full price. We cash out all the Visas at the airport and that's enough for my less-expensive ticket. So we head back to the departures level to buy it. The security guard checking for passports recognizes us from last time and says "I remember you, my brother, my sister. Come on through."
Then, we hire a taxi to the nearest bank that takes Mastercards (Stanbic, you are our savior) and withdraw money like there's a run on the bank, 500 cedis at a time. I feel like a bandit with so many wads of money in my purse. The security guard says, "Oh, back again!" and waves us through. We fork over the stacks of cash to Air Nigeria, relieved we traveled the 1/2 mile to the airport safely, and get outta there.
Then we moved our stuff to Bridgette's place, where we'll be staying for the rest of our visit in Ghana. Since it's new and not quiiiite finished yet, we have no curtains in our room. The security light at the office next door was bright and shiny all night, it was hot, and a chicken started crowing around 4am.
Misconception about chickens: they do not just crow only once. And they don't only crow when the sun rises. Those buggers get started early.
Pair that with the garbage trucks coming by every few minutes, starting at 4, blaring a tune that we all thought was either an ice cream truck or a kid's toy, and we can safely conclude that I didn't have a good night's sleep.
Tonight will be better, though! And now comes the weekend, which means Jens gets to come along while we explore. Later, I'll tell you about my experience at the crafts market!
Yesterday was a day of firsts and a day of TIA.
Yesterday it rained. It's the dry season, but we heard from a Ghanaian that they get one or two days of rain even in the dry season. He said it should have already happened, but they hadn't had a day of rain yet this year. Like a prophecy, the next day it rained.
African rain is nothing like Irish drizzle. African rain is pouring water, booming lightning, and whipping wind. All this at the same time we tried to get lunch on the half-covered "Lunch City" restaurant on the roof of Jens's building. The roof flooded with inches of water and we came downstairs soaked. I was ecstatic. No photos, though, since I was at lunch.
Yesterday I was stuck in traffic for three hours. F, a visiting Googler from Germany, and I wanted to go to a market. Google had a second driver for the day, who we asked to bring us to the art market in front of the cultural museum. We ended up going to, or rather past, Makola, an everyday-goods market. Traffic was solid all the way from the office to the market and it took the better part of two hours to get us there. I think the driver was also taking us past a few of Accra's sights along the way. We saw Independence Square, where schoolchildren were rehearsing marches in the stadium in preparation for Independence Day, which is March 6th. I'm bummed I'll miss that!
All this is irrelevant, though, to the sights we saw and the frustration I felt, inching forward with every stoplight but avoiding swerving cars and wandering pedestrians. Traffic moves, but there is still just such a multitude of cars that even with movement, you never get far.
As I mentioned, street vendors carry their wares on top of their heads...
But the head's just good for transporting anything. Case in point: television set.
Another ingenious way people transport things is in wheeled vehicles converted into carts. Check out this baby stroller:
carefully choosing the brown ones, made from ripe plantains
We also passed a good few cars with funny, interesting, and many religious slogans printed on them.
This one reads "You Lie" under a thumbs up.
This truck says, "I engineering Ghana"
Here we have "Still El Shadai" on one taxi, while the other one's plaque with passenger capacity and home company uses a Bible for its background.
I think we can all read what this one says!
Yesterday I saw Ghana's essentially cash-only system in action. Cash is used to pay for everything. The currency is the cedi (pronounced seedy), and it's two to the euro, 1.50 to the dollar. The highest bill we've ever seen is a 20, and those are very rare. 10 is a big bill already, and hard for street vendors to break. When an American blogger bought a new car here, she took along bagfuls of cash.
Jens is off to a conference in Senegal the week after next, and I'm tagging along for the week. We had to buy tickets from Air Nigeria. The online booking is only a reservation of the spot, and you have to go to the office in the airport to pay for your ticket within 24 hours. Now, you'd think that at an airline's office, in the airport, they'd take credit cards. That's what Jens thought. You (and Jens, and I for that matter) were wrong.
We hopped into a taxi outside of the office at 3:45pm. Traffic was bumper to bumper for a good 45 minutes. The taxi's fuel gage was showing the orange warning light (a very common sight here) the whole time. He got out of the car three separate times while traffic was at a standstill to open the hood, look at something in the engine, then come back to the driver's seat. We get to the airport, argue about the taxi fare, and head inside... for the first time. There's a security guard checking that all travelers have passports and tickets, and we tell him we're just here to pay for a flight.
At the mercifully line-free Air Nigeria counter, Jens is informed they take cash only. These are not Ryanair fares; these are high-three- and four-figure flight prices. Yikes.
We head off in search of ATMs, and checking that we have enough bank cards to do it thinking about daily withdrawal limits. The ones at the airport don't take mastercards, of which Jens has two that we need to cash in on to get together the full price. We cash out all the Visas at the airport and that's enough for my less-expensive ticket. So we head back to the departures level to buy it. The security guard checking for passports recognizes us from last time and says "I remember you, my brother, my sister. Come on through."
Then, we hire a taxi to the nearest bank that takes Mastercards (Stanbic, you are our savior) and withdraw money like there's a run on the bank, 500 cedis at a time. I feel like a bandit with so many wads of money in my purse. The security guard says, "Oh, back again!" and waves us through. We fork over the stacks of cash to Air Nigeria, relieved we traveled the 1/2 mile to the airport safely, and get outta there.
Then we moved our stuff to Bridgette's place, where we'll be staying for the rest of our visit in Ghana. Since it's new and not quiiiite finished yet, we have no curtains in our room. The security light at the office next door was bright and shiny all night, it was hot, and a chicken started crowing around 4am.
Misconception about chickens: they do not just crow only once. And they don't only crow when the sun rises. Those buggers get started early.
Pair that with the garbage trucks coming by every few minutes, starting at 4, blaring a tune that we all thought was either an ice cream truck or a kid's toy, and we can safely conclude that I didn't have a good night's sleep.
Tonight will be better, though! And now comes the weekend, which means Jens gets to come along while we explore. Later, I'll tell you about my experience at the crafts market!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Impressions
First things first: I'm posting from a Blogger app on my phone, which I think is fabulous. For that reason I'll try to keep this post short and sweet.
Accra is hot and humid. The streets are full of people walking and lots of cars. Drivers are insane, yet I've never seen an accident- people seem to slow down an instant before the worst happens. I've seen a bit of bad traffic, but only during rush hours and lunchtime. The part I enjoy the most about the roads is the street vendors. They wander between lanes of stopped cars hawking anything from phone credit to paintbrushes to plantain chips. And they carry their stock in plastic baskets or metal tubs, cushioned with a roll of fabric, balanced on the top of their heads. I took some photos but, since I'm on my phone now, can't post them quite yet.
On the home front, Bridgette's place is finally habitable and we're moving all our stuff over today. On our own home front, Jens and I have been house hunting and found a few places we like, though one especially stands out. It's smack in the middle of a neighborhood, so we get lots of mini market and pub and salon stalls but also a lot of winding side streets to get there. Still, it's a 10-minute walk to Oxford Street, which is a main shopping and eating area.
Today, Google's driver - yes, his job is to shuttle Google people around all day - is going to take me and two Googlers to the African art market and then a cultural museum.
I'm getting excited about this now. We met a friend of Jens's friend last night who told me she'd show me around next week when Jens is off in Nigeria. I'll get to know this place; I've already started learning some of the big streets. Onward and upward!
Accra is hot and humid. The streets are full of people walking and lots of cars. Drivers are insane, yet I've never seen an accident- people seem to slow down an instant before the worst happens. I've seen a bit of bad traffic, but only during rush hours and lunchtime. The part I enjoy the most about the roads is the street vendors. They wander between lanes of stopped cars hawking anything from phone credit to paintbrushes to plantain chips. And they carry their stock in plastic baskets or metal tubs, cushioned with a roll of fabric, balanced on the top of their heads. I took some photos but, since I'm on my phone now, can't post them quite yet.
On the home front, Bridgette's place is finally habitable and we're moving all our stuff over today. On our own home front, Jens and I have been house hunting and found a few places we like, though one especially stands out. It's smack in the middle of a neighborhood, so we get lots of mini market and pub and salon stalls but also a lot of winding side streets to get there. Still, it's a 10-minute walk to Oxford Street, which is a main shopping and eating area.
Today, Google's driver - yes, his job is to shuttle Google people around all day - is going to take me and two Googlers to the African art market and then a cultural museum.
I'm getting excited about this now. We met a friend of Jens's friend last night who told me she'd show me around next week when Jens is off in Nigeria. I'll get to know this place; I've already started learning some of the big streets. Onward and upward!
Monday, February 7, 2011
On Adventure
What's happened to me? Something over the last few years has made me fearful and taken away my sense of adventure and excitement for the new. I find myself afraid to seize the bull by the horns here: preferring to fall into someone's shadow who's done this before, asking questions I could go outside and find the answers to by myself, scared of taking a risk. That's not who I used to be, and it's not who I want to be.
When I tell people in Ireland I'm moving to Ghana, they invariably respond, "What an adventure!" And every time I'd hear that, inside I'd cringe while outside I smiled and nodded. I took offense at the term "adventure," as if it's something dangerous and foreign, and I'd come back to the real world once my adventure was over. But maybe they were right. "Adventure" implies something totally other, something that's a huge change and does involve some big leaps of faith. This is an adventure. I'm jumping into a place that many others would never dream of visiting, and I've committed to move here. It's time to claim that instead of shying away.
There's no reason I shouldn't like it. It's warm, the people are friendly, there's fresh fruit at every street corner, and there are so many expats around - if they all love it, why on Earth would I not? But it is different. I want to meet some people and talk to them about what was hard for them. I want to be shown why they love the place, taken out to some great places, and see things in the city. This will all come with time, of course. It's harder because I'm in a hotel - in Steffi's house in Addis, we were three steps away from a little "shop" stall, a coffee hole-in-the-wall, butchers and fruit/vegetable vendors. We were woken up by the call to prayer at a local mosque. But in Accra, I've already been to restaurants in Osu twice and recognized landmarks the second or third time I've passed them. It's a start.
Jens is concerned about my worries, but I've told him just to keep repeating that he knows I'll love it. Today, to help me out, he asked me, "Do you not like the warm weather? Do you not like the fresh fruit? Do you not like the people?" Of course, I have to say no every time! Today, I saw the reddest tomato I've seen in years, on a regular old lunch plate. I can't wait to walk up to a roadside stall and buy a green coconut. The vendor will hack off the top and pop a straw in there, and I'll sip fresh coconut water. I'm excited about learning to haggle. The fabric here has outrageous colors and designs, and I'll certainly buy token Westerner items like an over-the-shoulder purse in some awesome pattern. I'll take pictures, and kids will be playful, not malicious and destructive. The place hasn't had rain since September but the palm trees are still green. I've met the whole Google Ghana team (all six of them) and all have offered suggestions and help with networking and contacts for jobs, as well as agents to help us find a house. They say the American school's hiring - guess you were right, Mom, I should have contacted them! Jens has blocked out Wednesday and Thursday mornings for househunting, and possibly tomorrow evening.
I'll make another post describing my first impressions. This one's more about my own thoughts, and I'd also like to describe the scenery for you just a bit.
When I tell people in Ireland I'm moving to Ghana, they invariably respond, "What an adventure!" And every time I'd hear that, inside I'd cringe while outside I smiled and nodded. I took offense at the term "adventure," as if it's something dangerous and foreign, and I'd come back to the real world once my adventure was over. But maybe they were right. "Adventure" implies something totally other, something that's a huge change and does involve some big leaps of faith. This is an adventure. I'm jumping into a place that many others would never dream of visiting, and I've committed to move here. It's time to claim that instead of shying away.
There's no reason I shouldn't like it. It's warm, the people are friendly, there's fresh fruit at every street corner, and there are so many expats around - if they all love it, why on Earth would I not? But it is different. I want to meet some people and talk to them about what was hard for them. I want to be shown why they love the place, taken out to some great places, and see things in the city. This will all come with time, of course. It's harder because I'm in a hotel - in Steffi's house in Addis, we were three steps away from a little "shop" stall, a coffee hole-in-the-wall, butchers and fruit/vegetable vendors. We were woken up by the call to prayer at a local mosque. But in Accra, I've already been to restaurants in Osu twice and recognized landmarks the second or third time I've passed them. It's a start.
Jens is concerned about my worries, but I've told him just to keep repeating that he knows I'll love it. Today, to help me out, he asked me, "Do you not like the warm weather? Do you not like the fresh fruit? Do you not like the people?" Of course, I have to say no every time! Today, I saw the reddest tomato I've seen in years, on a regular old lunch plate. I can't wait to walk up to a roadside stall and buy a green coconut. The vendor will hack off the top and pop a straw in there, and I'll sip fresh coconut water. I'm excited about learning to haggle. The fabric here has outrageous colors and designs, and I'll certainly buy token Westerner items like an over-the-shoulder purse in some awesome pattern. I'll take pictures, and kids will be playful, not malicious and destructive. The place hasn't had rain since September but the palm trees are still green. I've met the whole Google Ghana team (all six of them) and all have offered suggestions and help with networking and contacts for jobs, as well as agents to help us find a house. They say the American school's hiring - guess you were right, Mom, I should have contacted them! Jens has blocked out Wednesday and Thursday mornings for househunting, and possibly tomorrow evening.
I'll make another post describing my first impressions. This one's more about my own thoughts, and I'd also like to describe the scenery for you just a bit.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Landed
For anyone who didn't get the Facebook update, I've landed and settled. We've arranged to stay with a colleague of Jens's who was supposed to move to a new place on Friday. The place isn't ready, though - there's no running water or internet yet, so we're in a hotel. The four-star Novotel has a snazzy lobby, but the hallway outside our room smells like mildew and ... well, anyway!
Not to say it's all bad - we went out for dinner to Frankie's, which I'd read about in a couple blogs/travel guides. Jens had a piri piri cheeseburger that was spicy (thank God, a country that knows peppers) and I got "broasted" (a.k.a. fried) chicken... and ice cream for dessert. Not very traditional for our first night, but hey, we've got time. The Guinness here tastes different even to the Nigerian version - more flavorful and less sweet. But like its Nigerian brother, it has 7.5% alcohol!
Jens will head in to the office first thing tomorrow morning. The driver who carpools all the Googlers to work will be here at 7:30. Tomorrow I'll take it easy - might look for a simcard for my phone, might explore, but might just stay in deciding what to do.
So far, the best part is the warmth. Even though it's harmattan, which I thought was a dry Saharan wind, it feels pretty humid here.
I'm going to miss the rain after I move, aren't I?
Not to say it's all bad - we went out for dinner to Frankie's, which I'd read about in a couple blogs/travel guides. Jens had a piri piri cheeseburger that was spicy (thank God, a country that knows peppers) and I got "broasted" (a.k.a. fried) chicken... and ice cream for dessert. Not very traditional for our first night, but hey, we've got time. The Guinness here tastes different even to the Nigerian version - more flavorful and less sweet. But like its Nigerian brother, it has 7.5% alcohol!
Jens will head in to the office first thing tomorrow morning. The driver who carpools all the Googlers to work will be here at 7:30. Tomorrow I'll take it easy - might look for a simcard for my phone, might explore, but might just stay in deciding what to do.
So far, the best part is the warmth. Even though it's harmattan, which I thought was a dry Saharan wind, it feels pretty humid here.
I'm going to miss the rain after I move, aren't I?
Saturday, February 5, 2011
First Post!
We're leaving in the morning! Our landlady's husband, who's a taxi driver, is bringing us to the airport at the end of his Saturday night shift, at the sparkling hour of 4:30am. Our flight to Frankfurt is at 6:50. I'm so excited/nervous/freaked out that I'm not sure if I'll be able to sleep!
See you all on another continent...
f.
See you all on another continent...
f.
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