It's Ghana Be Quite The Summer! - Part 5

So I realize I'm a little earlier than usual with my post but after the weekend I had, I felt the need to post as soon as possible.

Last I wrote, I was leaving work early to go and watch the Ghana vs. Germany match. We lost... but it was 100% OK because we still qualified to continue on in the World Cup! Yay! The streets of Accra were crazy which was hilarious to see because in reality we had just lost to Germany and the only goals we had scored were from penalty kicks... but Ghanaians don't care about details, WE STILL MADE IT!!! We partied well into the evening dancing up a storm and having a blast.

Thursday was uneventful except for the fact that I was asked to create an Excel Databank fit with automated formulas and linking formulas etc to be used to compile and analyze our data. The nerd in me came out and after a few hours of formatting and re-learning Gr.8 computer class, the four sheet document was efficient, beautiful and -best of all- done! On Friday all the female volunteers decided to get together and go out for a nice Italian meal and some drinks, first at Mamma Mia's and then at a bar called Container. The food was great, the company was lovely and the drinks were plentiful, all in all a lovely evening!

Because Ghana was going to be playing the USA on Saturday, we decided to postpone our Ada Foa adventure (that I mentioned in my last post) for two weeks so to start our weekend, Stacey and I decided to head to the Arts and Culture market on the Saturday morning. We got there and immediately were escorted down a strange alleyway and into some huts with jewelery, paintings, sculptures etc. Our escort told us his name was Liman and that he wanted to show us his music. We said "maybe later" and made our way deeper into the maze of stalls. As we did so, we encountered some pretty interesting characters who attempted to sell Stacey earings for 25Cedi each (which my roommate had bought 2 for 5cedi the previous weekend) and who insisted God would smite us if we didn't purchase their goods. We were lost in the maze of art for a good three hours before finally emerging at the opposite end of the market greeted by none other than our friend Liman. He insisted that we come see his music and as neither Stacey or I could come up with a good excuse quick enough, he took us by the hand and led us down another alleyway farther away from the main hub. It was here we saw where all the drums and other traditional African instruments were being made! He took us into his shop and told us to sit down on the bench. He then called all his buddies over and they proceeded to give us an impromptu Djembe Drum concert! They played for about 20 minutes and then after that insisted that we learn! They handed us some drums and got to work teaching us all the different sounds the drum could make and a few of the traditional rhythms. This lasted for about 30 minutes and by the end of it we were all playing together... it was AWESOME. After that Liman taught us all about the different kinds of wood used to make the drums and how he got them to be the perfect sound. He was so kind to us that Stacey and I think we will go back to get some custom drums made -- he will make them for you however you like with whichever designs and symbols you desire. He was SO nice and didn't expect anything from us, just wanted to share his love for music. Stacey and I were definitely glad we followed him!!!

After the market, we all got ready and headed back to the bar for the big game. Ghana vs. USA. The streets were INSANE with people screaming and cheering and the bar set up 3 big outdoor projectors with screens for the 500+ Ghana fans. For those of you who didn't watch the match and haven't heard, Ghana defeated the USA 2-1 which meant once again, Ghana went crazy and this time with good reason!!! The drinks flowed and the music boomed... Stacey and I joined a little parade on the main street and hopped in a crazy free trotro around Osu and back to Labadi for the night as I had to work the next day.

Then came Sunday. Sunday, Sunday, Sunday. I warn you readers now that Sunday was the worst day I've had in Ghana so far and probably one of the worst travel days I've ever had.

Sunday started rough with an early wake-up trying to figure out where I was supposed to meet my supervisor, Grace. I called and called but she didn't answer her phone. Finally, two hours later, she called me back and told me should couldn't tell me where to go and could I pass the phone to my Aunties in the compound. Who knows WHY should couldn't tell me that I was to find a trotro to a town called Agbobloshie but apparently my Aunties had to know first. So I ended up taking a trotro from Labadi to Tema Station and from there would take one to Agbobloshie. On the trotro to Tema Station the man I sat next to told me that he was going to marry me and that I would pay for him to live in Canada. When I informed him that such a thing would not be happening he then requested my phone number. When I told him that I don't give my phone number out, he asked if I would take his number and call him every day. When I told him that I wouldn't be taking his number because I don't have time and don't want to be calling him every day, he got rather angry. He told me (and the entire trotro) that I was a terrible person and that God would make sure I die a firey death and that I will suffer for my actions. Nice hey? All this because I turned down a 30 year old soccer instructor from Ghana. With a start like this I knew it was going to be a GREAT day.

Once I got off the trotro (and away from the oh-so-kind man) I found my connecting trotro to Agbobloshie and climbed on. Half an hour later I was there, standing, waiting, looking for Grace. She had said "I'll see you at 1:30, I'll meet you there" which to me meant "leave at an appropriate time so as to arrive at the station at 1:30 and Grace will be waiting there for you". So there I was, at 1:30 on the dot, waiting for Grace at Agbobloshie. At 1:40 I decided to call and see where she was. And then again at 1:42, 1:44, 1:46, 1:48 and 1:50 hoping that she eventually would pick up her phone. At 1:55pm I was approached by a guy that was about 15-16 years old who started yelling at me asking for money and for me to take him to America. When I explained that 1) I don't have any money and 2) that I wasn't American, he got aggressive and started pulling on my bag, demanding that I give it to him because there was money in it. When I insisted that I was not going to be giving him any money and demanded that he let go of my bag, he ran off cursing at me the whole way. After that I tried calling Grace again (with no luck) and another boy approached me and tried to snatch the phone right out of my hand. Luckily I had a bit of a grip on my phone and swatted him away vigorously. Once he left, my phone rang and it was Grace (Finally!!) At this point I had been sitting alone in a VERY sketchy part of town and had almost been robbed twice I explained to her that I was uncomfortable and nervous and she said she was sending someone to come get me in 5 minutes and that she was sorry she was late but she had to go home and - .. GET THIS... - CHARGE HER PHONE. Yep. That's why I was left alone in this town. Because one of her two phones was out of battery. Shame.

So there I sat, waiting for the peer educator to come and get me when all of a sudden I'm approached by about 15-20 men all demanding I give them money, that I marry them and that because I'm white I must do what they say. Feeling COMPLETELY overwhelmed and terrified I saw a teenaged boy and girl sitting a few feet away from me and I asked if I could join them and sit for awhile as I was really scared. They agreed and we chatted for a while as I waited for the man. Finally I called Grace again and asked her what the hell was going on and she said that the peer educator came and left because he didn't see me. Now, I think I need to make it clear how impossible this was. I, the lone white girl, was sitting on a plastic chair at a far-less-than-busy trotro stop, amongst a sea of Ghanaian men in a space under half the size of a skating rink. There was NO way that if he came he didn't see me!!!!

At this point I broke down into tears on the phone with Grace and told her that I was upset and angry and that I wanted to go home. She then begged me to stay because she "needed" my help with the performance and told me that she would send one of the actors to come find me. Twenty minutes later I was still sitting (now alone as the young boy and girl had left) at the trotro stop with the large group of Ghanaian men staring me down. It was then I decided I had had MORE than enough and so got on a trotro and headed back to Tema Station. While in the trotro I got a call from Grace and told her that I was heading home via Tema. She (somehow) met me at Tema and convinced me to get in the taxi with her and go back to do the performance. When we got to the community - which was a few feet from the station I had been sitting at for hours, we realized that this community (comprising of tin and mud shacks) had been hit very badly by the rain and so the normally dirt roads were now just thick muddy avenues leading to even thicker and muddier avenues. We trekked through the mud all the way to a community centre in the middle of the town where we learned the men of the town would not give up their afternoon watching soccer for the performance and that we would have to have the performance out in the middle of the street. In the mud. With the cars/motorbikes passing and interrupting.

And so we set up and began the performance much later than initially planned and only once it was over (and I still had yet to do anything) did we find out that the people in the community we were in did not speak Twi and so did not understand anything that had gone on during the show!!! Wasn't that the icing on the cake?!

After the show we trekked back through the mud to the road where Grace then told me what she needed me for was to come with her to another town and get receipts and do some accounting... me... doing math stuff... again. So we go and what she considers to be accounting turns out to be multiplying 8x3 (24 thank you very much). I then find out that Grace has NO idea where we are and so we begin wandering aimlessly through the town looking for a way out. It is at this point that a whole bunch of kids ages 6-10 come and swarm around me pulling my hair, pinching me, kicking my legs, pushing me etc... one kid came over and pinched so hard I grabbed his hand and said "DON'T do that, it's VERY rude. DON'T touch me again" to which Grace said "ohhh... Lindsay... don't..."

After all this crap I was put through throughout the day she decided to scold me for scolding a child who pinched me so hard I have a bruise today. Awesome. Just AWESOME.

So that was yesterday. Really awesome. Not a good start to this week at all but thankfully it's only a 3 day week with Canada day being a Ghana national holiday as well (not called Canada day here obviously) and with me taking Friday off because I worked yesterday. I'm hoping that will be the only truly terrible day I have in Ghana... I've got just under 6 weeks left here (I'm arriving home to Toronto on the 6th of August) and I'm hoping they just keep getting better and better!

I hope all your weekends were far superior and that the week ahead brings nothing but good things!