Day 75.
Makola Market in Accra must be one of the largest in Ghana. It is a maze of stands, stalls, and so many people selling everything imaginable: flags, fabric, flip-flops, fan yogo, frying pans, fish, fruit …and those are just the things that begin with “f”. It is easy to get lost in the labyrinth and asking for directions usually just ends you up in the same place. Following someone is the only way to actually get to where you need to go. Winding through tro-tro stations, vegetable markets, clothes stalls, seamstress booths, and endless masses of people, who are all there doing the very same thing. The aromas are sometimes overwhelming; a combination of the best and worst scents possible (though worst takes the cake). Surrounded by vendors saying, “buy something from me!” “what do you want?” “America, I love you” “What is your name?” “Obruni, obruni, obruni”. Most just want to say hi and maybe touch your arm, others are aggressive but usually easy to handle but just walking away intently. Some just laugh. It is easy to get frustrated with all the attention but I have to keep in mind that I will never fit in here and sometimes I have to laugh at myself too. Despite the layer of dirt I was covered in and the exhaustion I felt after four hours of this, I left Makolaadfs with a smile…really looking forward to a nice cold bucket shower.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
...and I'm feeling good.
day 72.
last week: traditional dance performance. contemporary dance performance. paper writing. dance party. school play. pool party.
this week: paper writing. picture taking. bollywood film festival. market shopping.
this weekend: (fingers crossed) traveling to Benin to watch the Black Stars (again!)!
I feel refreshed. Almost as if I just arrived but this time in familiar settings. I love Ghana and I still have so much to look forward to: Boti Falls, botanical gardens, Mole National Park, Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary, rock shrines, the mysterious tree that moves around, Togo, Benin, Senegal!
last week: traditional dance performance. contemporary dance performance. paper writing. dance party. school play. pool party.
this week: paper writing. picture taking. bollywood film festival. market shopping.
this weekend: (fingers crossed) traveling to Benin to watch the Black Stars (again!)!
I feel refreshed. Almost as if I just arrived but this time in familiar settings. I love Ghana and I still have so much to look forward to: Boti Falls, botanical gardens, Mole National Park, Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary, rock shrines, the mysterious tree that moves around, Togo, Benin, Senegal!
Thursday, October 1, 2009
little things
Day 68.
There are strange, small, unidentified bugs that live on the walls in the shower, along with camouflage geckos.
On the walk to my 7:30 class, there is an elderly man with one tooth who always asks me to share my breakfast with him. I do.
There is a new vegan (!) stand at the Night Market, owned by a vegan woman. I have yet to explore its options.
The library is my favorite building on campus, especially because everything in it is at least 20 years old and dusty.
The “Healing Jesus Crusade” is coming to campus on October 9-10. The flyer boasts the words “Miracle Power!” and Evangelist dag Heward-Mills holding up multiple pairs of crutches. The flyer also notes that there will be a “Jesus March” on October 3.
Uncle Ben, the head porter in Volta Hall calls Carmen and me “Lucycar” when we are together (For the record Uncle B, as we nick named him after he gave us ours, must be the most jovial man I have ever met. Always a smile on his face ready to make conversation and laugh, he makes Volta Hall that much more amazing...Oh, and he rides a metallic gold bicycle, a little precariously, but none the less he is rad).
Found out that I have to keep my January 15th flight home because the first two weeks of the new year are booked, but I am going to call every week hoping for cancellations.
Finally got our passports back today after the month it took to extend our visas. Mine still expires before I leave so I have to go through the whole process again.
I have a small crush on 70-year old Professor Emeritus (in the botany department) Ebenezer Laing.
Lucas, the night guard for our block in Volta Hall like bananas so sometimes I surprise him with a bunch.
Baobab trees (Adansonia digitata) are my favorite so far -- photosynthetic bark near the base and stegosaurus spikes.
I miss you.
Top ten Ghanaian phrases:
1. “Obruni, how are you?” – Everyone from children to market women to professionals say this, always in the exact same tone.
2. “I’m fine”. – Never I’m good, or I’m not good or anything else, just “I’m fine”… always.
3. “Where are you going?” – Everyone and their mom wants to know this.
4. “Go and come.” – Said when you are leaving somewhere but will be returning later.
5. “You are invited.” -- People (especially strangers) say this to let you know that they want to share their food with you.
6. “Please, I’m coming”. – Used in place of the American “hold on”.
7. “It’s finished.” – When a particular item is sold out.
8. “Oh, sorry.” – Strangers and friends say this after you trip or drop something.
9. “You are welcome.” – Heard when arriving somewhere not after a “thank you”.
10. “Is that not it?” and “Is it okay?” – Professors say this to get clarification that the students understand.
There are strange, small, unidentified bugs that live on the walls in the shower, along with camouflage geckos.
On the walk to my 7:30 class, there is an elderly man with one tooth who always asks me to share my breakfast with him. I do.
There is a new vegan (!) stand at the Night Market, owned by a vegan woman. I have yet to explore its options.
The library is my favorite building on campus, especially because everything in it is at least 20 years old and dusty.
The “Healing Jesus Crusade” is coming to campus on October 9-10. The flyer boasts the words “Miracle Power!” and Evangelist dag Heward-Mills holding up multiple pairs of crutches. The flyer also notes that there will be a “Jesus March” on October 3.
Uncle Ben, the head porter in Volta Hall calls Carmen and me “Lucycar” when we are together (For the record Uncle B, as we nick named him after he gave us ours, must be the most jovial man I have ever met. Always a smile on his face ready to make conversation and laugh, he makes Volta Hall that much more amazing...Oh, and he rides a metallic gold bicycle, a little precariously, but none the less he is rad).
Found out that I have to keep my January 15th flight home because the first two weeks of the new year are booked, but I am going to call every week hoping for cancellations.
Finally got our passports back today after the month it took to extend our visas. Mine still expires before I leave so I have to go through the whole process again.
I have a small crush on 70-year old Professor Emeritus (in the botany department) Ebenezer Laing.
Lucas, the night guard for our block in Volta Hall like bananas so sometimes I surprise him with a bunch.
Baobab trees (Adansonia digitata) are my favorite so far -- photosynthetic bark near the base and stegosaurus spikes.
I miss you.
Top ten Ghanaian phrases:
1. “Obruni, how are you?” – Everyone from children to market women to professionals say this, always in the exact same tone.
2. “I’m fine”. – Never I’m good, or I’m not good or anything else, just “I’m fine”… always.
3. “Where are you going?” – Everyone and their mom wants to know this.
4. “Go and come.” – Said when you are leaving somewhere but will be returning later.
5. “You are invited.” -- People (especially strangers) say this to let you know that they want to share their food with you.
6. “Please, I’m coming”. – Used in place of the American “hold on”.
7. “It’s finished.” – When a particular item is sold out.
8. “Oh, sorry.” – Strangers and friends say this after you trip or drop something.
9. “You are welcome.” – Heard when arriving somewhere not after a “thank you”.
10. “Is that not it?” and “Is it okay?” – Professors say this to get clarification that the students understand.
Friday, September 25, 2009
a cheif's head, a missing finger, and no water.
Day 62.
The festival didn’t happen. The five of us (from now on called the Superhero Five: Carmen, Travis, Matt, Sauce, and I) arrived in Busua on Friday night, and while eating dinner we were told why there would be no festival this year. The Chief of Busua, who was killed about 170 years ago, had his head taken away from the community by the Dutch when they were in power of the Gold Coast. The head was moved from place to place but was most recently kept in a museum in Accra. This year, the head was finally returned to the village where it is to be buried. In Ghanaian culture, there is never a festival the year of a chief’s burial as the community is mourning…even if more than fifteen decades have passed…and all you have is his head.
No festival meant relaxation. Relaxation on beautiful beaches in the friendliest place we have been yet. As we had been to Busua before, I felt comfortable finding my way around and venturing a bit on my own. Our days were spent in the sunshine and waves enjoying the quiet, reading, and playing games. My attempts at body boarding ended unsuccessfully and I got too sunburned on Saturday to try again on Sunday. Along the beaches there were many children yelling, “Picture, picture!” After every shot, they want to see what they look like just so they can laugh the same every time.
After staying at Sabina’s Guest House (where we stayed last time) for two nights, we decided to move to the Black Mambo Corner on our third and final night. To get to the place, we had to wade through the river that flows into the ocean. The owners of the place, a Rasta named Alex and his brother Joseph were great hosts and interesting to talk with. The accommodations were outrageous for the price – ocean-side octagonal guesthouse surrounded by native plants. A gazebo only ten yards away with a terrific view of Abokwa Island and the fishing boats coming back to shore. We fell asleep to the sound of the waves crashing with great power against the rocks and this is what we woke up to in the morning. Amazing. After we checked out on Sunday, we heard from someone in the village that there is a rumor that Alex, who was married to a German woman that he told us “left him” two years ago, murdered his wife, and that is why he cut off all of his dreads…he was also missing his pinky finger on his left hand, a sign?
We returned from the weekend to school, sunshine (it's hot!), and celebration (Travis' birthday was on Tuesday so we splurged on 2 for 1 pizza and ice cream at Bonjour). This is the sixth week of instruction and as the semesters are only 13 weeks long, we are almost halfway done...then finals...then traveling...then home.
The water in Volta Hall has been out for over a week. The Polytanks (big black water reserve tanks that are located in every block) are all out too. This means all we have is sachet water. It is not so bad to not shower (though I can see dirt in the crease of my elbow), but not flushing the toilet when 10 girls use the same one is a problem. The halls located closer to the main gate have water more consistently because it doesn't have to be pumped as far. Maybe we will go there with our buckets to collect water and bring it back? I guess this is Africa...
The festival didn’t happen. The five of us (from now on called the Superhero Five: Carmen, Travis, Matt, Sauce, and I) arrived in Busua on Friday night, and while eating dinner we were told why there would be no festival this year. The Chief of Busua, who was killed about 170 years ago, had his head taken away from the community by the Dutch when they were in power of the Gold Coast. The head was moved from place to place but was most recently kept in a museum in Accra. This year, the head was finally returned to the village where it is to be buried. In Ghanaian culture, there is never a festival the year of a chief’s burial as the community is mourning…even if more than fifteen decades have passed…and all you have is his head.
No festival meant relaxation. Relaxation on beautiful beaches in the friendliest place we have been yet. As we had been to Busua before, I felt comfortable finding my way around and venturing a bit on my own. Our days were spent in the sunshine and waves enjoying the quiet, reading, and playing games. My attempts at body boarding ended unsuccessfully and I got too sunburned on Saturday to try again on Sunday. Along the beaches there were many children yelling, “Picture, picture!” After every shot, they want to see what they look like just so they can laugh the same every time.
After staying at Sabina’s Guest House (where we stayed last time) for two nights, we decided to move to the Black Mambo Corner on our third and final night. To get to the place, we had to wade through the river that flows into the ocean. The owners of the place, a Rasta named Alex and his brother Joseph were great hosts and interesting to talk with. The accommodations were outrageous for the price – ocean-side octagonal guesthouse surrounded by native plants. A gazebo only ten yards away with a terrific view of Abokwa Island and the fishing boats coming back to shore. We fell asleep to the sound of the waves crashing with great power against the rocks and this is what we woke up to in the morning. Amazing. After we checked out on Sunday, we heard from someone in the village that there is a rumor that Alex, who was married to a German woman that he told us “left him” two years ago, murdered his wife, and that is why he cut off all of his dreads…he was also missing his pinky finger on his left hand, a sign?
We returned from the weekend to school, sunshine (it's hot!), and celebration (Travis' birthday was on Tuesday so we splurged on 2 for 1 pizza and ice cream at Bonjour). This is the sixth week of instruction and as the semesters are only 13 weeks long, we are almost halfway done...then finals...then traveling...then home.
The water in Volta Hall has been out for over a week. The Polytanks (big black water reserve tanks that are located in every block) are all out too. This means all we have is sachet water. It is not so bad to not shower (though I can see dirt in the crease of my elbow), but not flushing the toilet when 10 girls use the same one is a problem. The halls located closer to the main gate have water more consistently because it doesn't have to be pumped as far. Maybe we will go there with our buckets to collect water and bring it back? I guess this is Africa...
Friday, September 18, 2009
Shai Hills, favorite things, and things I miss
Day 55.
Tuesday. 7:30am: BOTN 427 Field Trip to Shai Hills Resource Reserve – a 52km2 protected area, home to monitor lizards, many species of birds, bats, kob – an African antelope species, and baboons. In the botany department vehicle, my professor, myself, and two other students (the third was left behind for being five minutes late… contradictory to Ghanaian time?) rode an hour and a half into the Accra Plains. Upon arrival, we were met by a truck-bed full of teenaged Ghanaians wanting to talk to us (“Obruni, bra bra bra bra”. “Bra” means, “come”) and the Reserve’s manager. After a meeting with the five head officers of the reserve, we were taken on a private tour by the chief of law enforcement. His job is to keep poachers out by any means necessary. While we were driving, I noticed from the backseat that there was a bullet shaped scar on the back of his right hand…..crossfire? Our tour consisted of driving through a grassland savannah spotted with hilly rock outcrops – reminiscent of The Lion King. We parked the old SUV at the base of one of the hills to visit a baobab shrine and climb the rocky hill to a bat cave. Damp and cold, the cave echoed with the sounds of bats and smelled of guano. Squeezing between two slanted rocks to the back of the cave where fragments of sunlight broke through, we reached their home. Through a crevice, we saw hundreds of bats flying agitatedly in circles, making the most unique screeching sound. After a few minutes of watching in awe and silence, we turned back, leaving the bats in peace. Only a few minutes after we returned to the reserve road, Professor Adomako spotted two kob about 300 meters away stopped dead in their tracks, staring directly at us. Seeing these animals in their natural habitat is a rare occurrence, even at the reserve…we were in luck. Not even a mile away, as we were passing the security guards’ housing, we were met by three adult baboons and two babies idly minding their own business…double luck.
A few weeks prior to this field trip, I had been feeling like I was in a little swamp. I wasn’t having a terrific time here because I got lost in my ideas of what I thought Ghana would be like. I hadn’t traveled in a while (not including Cape Coast) and I was feeling murky on campus. After talking to one of my favorite people from home, I felt much better. This trip was like a new beginning. It reminded me of why I came to Ghana in the first place – not to go on touristy adventures but to have once-in-a-lifetime experiences that I will never forget.
To keep on the positive side here are my favorite things so far: wli falls. nzulezo. kele wele. receiving letters. listening to the drums. traveling light. fresh pineapple. mount afadjato. rainforest trees.
For the sake of balance, here are the things I miss most: lying in the grass. tap water (hot water?). mexican food. fixed prices. fixed gears. mary’s napoletana pizza (with no cheese). pickles. Mlzs!(use the code, detective).
Traveling this weekend to Busua for their annual festival...crossing my fingers that it's more enjoyable than Cape Coast...
Tuesday. 7:30am: BOTN 427 Field Trip to Shai Hills Resource Reserve – a 52km2 protected area, home to monitor lizards, many species of birds, bats, kob – an African antelope species, and baboons. In the botany department vehicle, my professor, myself, and two other students (the third was left behind for being five minutes late… contradictory to Ghanaian time?) rode an hour and a half into the Accra Plains. Upon arrival, we were met by a truck-bed full of teenaged Ghanaians wanting to talk to us (“Obruni, bra bra bra bra”. “Bra” means, “come”) and the Reserve’s manager. After a meeting with the five head officers of the reserve, we were taken on a private tour by the chief of law enforcement. His job is to keep poachers out by any means necessary. While we were driving, I noticed from the backseat that there was a bullet shaped scar on the back of his right hand…..crossfire? Our tour consisted of driving through a grassland savannah spotted with hilly rock outcrops – reminiscent of The Lion King. We parked the old SUV at the base of one of the hills to visit a baobab shrine and climb the rocky hill to a bat cave. Damp and cold, the cave echoed with the sounds of bats and smelled of guano. Squeezing between two slanted rocks to the back of the cave where fragments of sunlight broke through, we reached their home. Through a crevice, we saw hundreds of bats flying agitatedly in circles, making the most unique screeching sound. After a few minutes of watching in awe and silence, we turned back, leaving the bats in peace. Only a few minutes after we returned to the reserve road, Professor Adomako spotted two kob about 300 meters away stopped dead in their tracks, staring directly at us. Seeing these animals in their natural habitat is a rare occurrence, even at the reserve…we were in luck. Not even a mile away, as we were passing the security guards’ housing, we were met by three adult baboons and two babies idly minding their own business…double luck.
A few weeks prior to this field trip, I had been feeling like I was in a little swamp. I wasn’t having a terrific time here because I got lost in my ideas of what I thought Ghana would be like. I hadn’t traveled in a while (not including Cape Coast) and I was feeling murky on campus. After talking to one of my favorite people from home, I felt much better. This trip was like a new beginning. It reminded me of why I came to Ghana in the first place – not to go on touristy adventures but to have once-in-a-lifetime experiences that I will never forget.
To keep on the positive side here are my favorite things so far: wli falls. nzulezo. kele wele. receiving letters. listening to the drums. traveling light. fresh pineapple. mount afadjato. rainforest trees.
For the sake of balance, here are the things I miss most: lying in the grass. tap water (hot water?). mexican food. fixed prices. fixed gears. mary’s napoletana pizza (with no cheese). pickles. Mlzs!(use the code, detective).
Traveling this weekend to Busua for their annual festival...crossing my fingers that it's more enjoyable than Cape Coast...
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Cape Coast Fest, Football, and Sewage
Day 45.
On Thursday of last week, we all (EAP students) travelled to Cape Coast for their annual festival. We arrived at night in just enough time to search for dinner. A group of us followed Kofi, one of the EAP facilitators, to find food. We were surrounded by street food but Kofi said that we shouldn’t eat it – he would but we shouldn’t. It was dark out and very noisy. It is typically noisy here, but in preparation for the festival, there were huge industrial speakers stacked every few hundred meters….playing the same six songs…over and over and over. After a long walk weaving through crowds of unfamiliar people wanting to talk to us, we ended up at Castle Beach restaurant – one look at the menu (4.5 GH cedi for a plate of chicken and rice) we left…to go eat street food.
Friday. We woke up to bad news. The hotel had been broken into and Travis’ very expensive professional camera, 150 GH cedis, and 2 backpacks were missing. The backpacks were found but the money and the camera were long gone. The rest of the day we spent enjoying Cape Coast: we had pancakes made by a Rastafarian named Stone, climbed to the top of a fort overlooking the whole city, ate at a vegetarian (!!) place for lunch (Avocado sandwich – bomb), and Carmen and I accidentally slept through the sacrifice of a bull (they hacked his head off with a machete and dragged him through the streets with it barely attached…part of me is glad I missed it). The day was great, but come nighttime I found that I really do not have a taste for Cape Coast, at least not during festival time. There were far too many people looking at us to see what they could steal and grabbing us as we walked by. As compared with other places we have been in Ghana, Cape Coast is currently low on the list.
Saturday. The day of the festival. Thousands of people were in the streets dancing and celebrating underneath their Chiefs or Queen Mothers who were carried on people’s heads like in Roman times. As each chief passed, he danced to the beating of drums following him, smiling at the crowd and his people below. Everybody was full of energy and excitement. There were people dressed up in all kinds of costumes (nurses, monkeys, stilt walkers, only underwear, clowns, regalia, drag, matching outfits) and it was very colorful. The procession lasted a few hours and it was hot. Working our way through the crowd was not easy as people would stop us and say “Obruni, dance!” and then laugh as if they’ve never seen a white person dance before.
That evening, Marlon, Alex, Nikos, Sauce, and I went looking for dinner. Sauce spotted a sign for a street stand that said “Special Soup”. Being an adventurous eater, he walked over to check it out; we followed. He lifted the lid of the soup to see pieces of unfamiliar looking meat floating in it. He asked the women selling the soup, “What kind of meat is that?” One woman replied what sounded like “kaat”. Not understanding, he asked again, “What kind of meat is that?” Again she replied, “It’s kaat”. We still didn’t understand so she asked a man near by to help explain. He said, “It’s kaat. You know, we have dogs and we have kaats.” The three women behind the stand proceeded to meow. Sauce said, “I’ll take it!” I left.
Sunday. We woke up still tired from the previous day to take the three-hour bus ride back to Accra. Despite our exhaustion, we had our friends from Tufts buy us tickets to the Fourth Round FIFA World Cup Qualifiers: Ghana Black Stars vs. Sudan – my first real soccer game. It was amazing. The stadium was packed with Black Stars fans wearing Appiah and Essien jerseys, waving Ghanaian flags, blowing noisemakers, and covered head to toe in body paint. We had VIP seats: third row, center field. Though there was a pane of glass between us and the action, we got to sit right behind the players. The Black Stars scored once each half making the scores Ghana 2, Sudan 0. The final whistle was blown by the Vice President of Ghana, who then officially stated that Ghana has qualified for the World Cup…and the crowd goes crazy.
Today: this deserves a blog post of it's own but I am going to add it here and make it brief. Just a few hours ago, I went on a field trip for my Conservation and Environmental Studies class. We were going into Accra to see how they manage liquid waste (sewage). The "high tech" facility that cost 22 million pounds that began running in 2002 broke down in 2004 and all of Accra's sewage has been diverted to the Atlantic Ocean ever since. We literally saw sewage trucks pull up to the beach and release all of their sewage then drive away. Devastating for so many reasons. Maybe I will write more later, after I have had time to process what I saw.
On Thursday of last week, we all (EAP students) travelled to Cape Coast for their annual festival. We arrived at night in just enough time to search for dinner. A group of us followed Kofi, one of the EAP facilitators, to find food. We were surrounded by street food but Kofi said that we shouldn’t eat it – he would but we shouldn’t. It was dark out and very noisy. It is typically noisy here, but in preparation for the festival, there were huge industrial speakers stacked every few hundred meters….playing the same six songs…over and over and over. After a long walk weaving through crowds of unfamiliar people wanting to talk to us, we ended up at Castle Beach restaurant – one look at the menu (4.5 GH cedi for a plate of chicken and rice) we left…to go eat street food.
Friday. We woke up to bad news. The hotel had been broken into and Travis’ very expensive professional camera, 150 GH cedis, and 2 backpacks were missing. The backpacks were found but the money and the camera were long gone. The rest of the day we spent enjoying Cape Coast: we had pancakes made by a Rastafarian named Stone, climbed to the top of a fort overlooking the whole city, ate at a vegetarian (!!) place for lunch (Avocado sandwich – bomb), and Carmen and I accidentally slept through the sacrifice of a bull (they hacked his head off with a machete and dragged him through the streets with it barely attached…part of me is glad I missed it). The day was great, but come nighttime I found that I really do not have a taste for Cape Coast, at least not during festival time. There were far too many people looking at us to see what they could steal and grabbing us as we walked by. As compared with other places we have been in Ghana, Cape Coast is currently low on the list.
Saturday. The day of the festival. Thousands of people were in the streets dancing and celebrating underneath their Chiefs or Queen Mothers who were carried on people’s heads like in Roman times. As each chief passed, he danced to the beating of drums following him, smiling at the crowd and his people below. Everybody was full of energy and excitement. There were people dressed up in all kinds of costumes (nurses, monkeys, stilt walkers, only underwear, clowns, regalia, drag, matching outfits) and it was very colorful. The procession lasted a few hours and it was hot. Working our way through the crowd was not easy as people would stop us and say “Obruni, dance!” and then laugh as if they’ve never seen a white person dance before.
That evening, Marlon, Alex, Nikos, Sauce, and I went looking for dinner. Sauce spotted a sign for a street stand that said “Special Soup”. Being an adventurous eater, he walked over to check it out; we followed. He lifted the lid of the soup to see pieces of unfamiliar looking meat floating in it. He asked the women selling the soup, “What kind of meat is that?” One woman replied what sounded like “kaat”. Not understanding, he asked again, “What kind of meat is that?” Again she replied, “It’s kaat”. We still didn’t understand so she asked a man near by to help explain. He said, “It’s kaat. You know, we have dogs and we have kaats.” The three women behind the stand proceeded to meow. Sauce said, “I’ll take it!” I left.
Sunday. We woke up still tired from the previous day to take the three-hour bus ride back to Accra. Despite our exhaustion, we had our friends from Tufts buy us tickets to the Fourth Round FIFA World Cup Qualifiers: Ghana Black Stars vs. Sudan – my first real soccer game. It was amazing. The stadium was packed with Black Stars fans wearing Appiah and Essien jerseys, waving Ghanaian flags, blowing noisemakers, and covered head to toe in body paint. We had VIP seats: third row, center field. Though there was a pane of glass between us and the action, we got to sit right behind the players. The Black Stars scored once each half making the scores Ghana 2, Sudan 0. The final whistle was blown by the Vice President of Ghana, who then officially stated that Ghana has qualified for the World Cup…and the crowd goes crazy.
Today: this deserves a blog post of it's own but I am going to add it here and make it brief. Just a few hours ago, I went on a field trip for my Conservation and Environmental Studies class. We were going into Accra to see how they manage liquid waste (sewage). The "high tech" facility that cost 22 million pounds that began running in 2002 broke down in 2004 and all of Accra's sewage has been diverted to the Atlantic Ocean ever since. We literally saw sewage trucks pull up to the beach and release all of their sewage then drive away. Devastating for so many reasons. Maybe I will write more later, after I have had time to process what I saw.
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