Clubs, Cooking and Cold Water

Teaching a bunch of Oburunis (foreigners) how to cook with a mortar and pestle and coal fires could not have been an easy task.


Yesterday, one of our incredible CIEE staff worked with us to teach us how to cook some traditional Ghanaian dishes that we could bring back to the states and recreate for our family and friends. It was incredible to watch a woman cook with only small-portable coal stoves - making three different sauces at once while another coal stove fried up the kelewele (fried plantain with spices like ginger, red pepper and fresh onion). That morning she also taught us how to wash our clothes by hand in small buckets... I don't think I have the skills quite yet but I'm working on it.


A lot of people have been asking about the dorm-life here. Asking if I have running water, if I have air conditioning - etc. etc. etc. So here is the run-down: I have running water... sometimes... but there is no hot water at all. I live in a dorm called International Student Hostel (better known as ISH) that has community bathrooms and I share a room with another American student named Claire - who goes to Boston College. My room is wonderful, no air conditioning but an incredibly effective fan. I sleep under mosquito netting at night and get up with the sun around 6 am. I can usually fall back asleep but it is definitely a new experience to have the sun rise so early. It's necessary though, considering the sun sets by 6 o'clock in the evening.









The UPALS that I mentioned in an earlier post are our saving grace here but they are also our all-knowing-excursion-experts. A friend of mine here has her birthday on Monday and wanted to go out so we asked Gabriel where would be a good place to go dance. The answer we received was "Mirage is the place to go on Saturday night." Mirage... ummmm hmmmm well other than sounding like a strip club what could be wrong with such a place?


Sweet fancy Moses. After negotiating a 10 cedi entrance fee down to free... we entered the club... walking on "stepping stones" through a flooded entrance. What a good start. We entered and what we hear is the kind of techno you'd find in an over-priced night club somewhere in Eastern Europe. Straight techno. Enter: laser light show and a strobe light. I have not had that much fun dancing with a bunch of partial-strangers in my entire life. The time the bouncer grabbed me to dance was a bit intimidating but the over enthused middle-aged-middle-eastern men doing the cotton eye joe to techno made up for it. Some friends and I retreated in a taxi home around 1:30 just as everyone was just getting started.


And that is when I had my first experience with police corruption. Our taxi driver was stopped not once but TWICE and left no choice but to bribe the police/military personnel so that he could get us back to campus. Definitely not something you'd find in the states. And the way it's done is incredible... the police just shine a flashlight in the window and let their stare do the talking. The driver proceeds to reach into his earnings for the night and hand over 2-5 cedi so that he can be on his way. And we complain about speeding tickets...


Other than our clubbing adventure the only other notable excursion thus far was the trip to Medina market eluded to in the previous post. Mass chaos is the best way to describe it. Functional-overwhelming-chaos. You'll find everything from stations doing braids on girls to electrical wires and incredible fabrics. All thrown together down endless corridors of vendors and people. Please note the photo of the "Obama biscuits" for sale in the market. Many of my conversations with passing cab drivers and people on the street go as follows:






"Oburuni!"
*I wave*
"Obama!"
*I give the thumbs up and giggle to myself*


Ghanaians love them some Obama.



There is always more to come and I can't wait to post more - once more has happened.

One last note: currently I am in an internet cafe on campus... my background music to this post: African drumming and a giant choir singing outside... some sort of celebration on the basketball court. The room is shaking a bit. I love my life.