Bojo, Babies and VIP seats...

George the cab driver: Where are you from?
Claire: America.
George: Oh, I will go to America some day.
Claire: That’s awesome… how will you do that?
George: I am saving up, or I will marry a white woman like you.
Claire: That sounds like a plan, George.
George: Are you married?
Claire: No, but my heart is taken. . . I’m not available.
George: You can take me as your concubine if you don’t need a husband. (stoic… entirely serious)
Claire: (stifling disbelief and laughter) George… I’m not pillaging a country side and taking captives… it wouldn’t be right for me to take you as my concubine. You deserve better than that.



My roommate Claire Elise Aloe sits in the front of every taxi we ever ride in … you’d be surprised how common conversations of this nature are… usually it stops at husband though, that was her first concubine offer.

Friday, we went to the Accra mall for a little escape into “Western-World,” the land of coffees and ice creams, Birkenstock shops and coach bag boutiques. It’s hilarious to walk in those doors from the chaos of Spana station into the air conditioned mall-rat-atmosphere. The highlight of the mall trip: our taxi ride back to the University described above.

This weekend was a busy one. We started off on Thursday when Grace, Kyle and I went to volunteer at Beacon House orphanage for the first time. We walked into the 3 story baby-yellow building and began navigating the halls in search of an adult we recognized. We came upon the classroom where the older kids were still doing their lesson and were politely shooed away and sent to the porch where the preschoolers were playing, waiting for lunch.

The moment… and I mean the MOMENT we three oborunis stepped onto the porch we were swarmed by the munchkins. Beautiful, screaming and laughing kids who treated us like their favorite toys come to life. They were hugging our legs, asking our names and laughing as we answered (no doubt we have VERY funny accents to them, especially Kyle who’s from Wisconsin… I think the unfamiliar pronunciation of certain words combined with his gender made him the day’s favorite. Not many guys come to volunteer and play with the kids.)

We played with the preschoolers for 30 minutes or so, until lunch was served and then we helped the house Mom’s feed the kids. Grace and I were handed two infants and basically told “Good luck.” My little boy Mikaeli had to have been less than 6 months old and just a little bundle of smiles and toe-sucking. He quickly fell asleep in my arms and effectively melted my heart. Grace’s dumpling Jeremiah kept us entertained for another hour.

After the babies went to sleep we went into the classroom to work one-on-one (or in my case two-on-one) with the older kids. Our job was to work with them on their assignments given that day. My girls, Helen and Benedita (both assumedly 10 or 11) needed to work on addition. No problem right? Wrong. Try explaining to two sassy pre-teens WHAT addition is and WHY they should bother learning it… oh and THEN get them to practice. One rough hour of my life. By the end of it I had committed myself to the challenge. I am DETERMINED to see them learn to add.

Friday was the mall trip described at the beginning of the post.

And then Saturday… Saturday was Bojo Beach Day. We took three crazy tro-tros a full two hours out of the city to a beach we had heard was as close to paradise and we’d find less than a day away. After sweating half to death, being grabbed through tro-tro windows, and trying to protect Claire from the fish of the market (she’s deathly allergic) – we were ready to see this beach.

Walking down the winding road from a stop that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere was a little unnerving. Did we travel all this way for no beach? What if it’s full of trash and vendors like the last one we went to…



And then… we saw it. Over the bluff… a white sand strip of beach floating in the ocean. We had to take a boat to get to it. Once we took off our sandals and planted them in that sand it was all over. Paradise. We were so incredibly happy to be there, and with our Cokes and Alvaros (a pineapple or pear malt beverage that is DELICIOUS) in hand … we felt on top of the world.
Laying in bed, exhausted from the sun, swimming and traveling we figured there was no way that the futbol game the next day could be any better.

Wrong again.

Walking up to the stadium where Ghana would play Sudan in a World Cup Qualifier Match at 5 o’clock was already INSANE at 2 o’clock when we arrived. Parades, people painted head to toe, Ghana flags for sale everywhere. I knew that we had VIP tickets but had no idea what that meant.



When we walked in the private gate, past the crowds… I got a good feeling. But when we found our seats, fifth row up right at mid-field – behind Ghana’s bench… we were ecstatic. The stadium filled by 4:30 and when the game got going at 5 sharp the crowds were ecstatic. There was so much excitement that it was intoxicating. Ghana won 2 to zero. And around 8:30 we found our way home.



What a weekend.