This blog entry began as an email to our friend Rebecca Napier-Moore. She is a native Texan (although not of the big hair and dont-mess variety) who is now married to a British guy and living in England. We met her and her lovely husband Phil the first week we were in Ghana last year. They quickly became two of our favorite folks who we spent lots of time with until they left us. Fortunately, shortly after their departure we were randomly introduced to Rob, Marta, Brian and Aaron. We met those four at a pub "quiz night." Soon we were learning bridge, being talked into trying curling, and generally socialized for our impending Canadian citizenship.
The friendship trail goes back to my first visit to Ghana. Each and everytime I was unusually blessed to find one or two people whom I absolutely clicked with. In circumstances that seem tailor-made for friendships of convenience, I strangely found intimate true friends who I would chose to be with anywhere in the world, whom I would select out of a line-up of 100. On my study abroad term there was Kourtney. She was an African-American woman from Texas attending Harvard. On the surface, particularly given the racial tension in our study abroad program, we were strang bedfellows. But she and I had oddly similar outlooks on life, perhaps because we were both very close to our mothers, had younger sisters, and had fathers who were uncannily similar (and not always in the best ways). Her father also died suddenly about six months after my own. In my heart, even if we talk only twice a year, we will always be strangely sisters.
When I came back for my Fulbright, I found more friends than I could have hoped for, and first developed my endearing obsession with small northern european countries. I hit it off with Mark an older Dutch guy who was forwardly against making friends with the many expats who came and went through the house for a few months at a time. I apparently overwhelmed his resistence and we eventually shared a flat. I also adored Pernille, a Danish woman, who eventually went on to date Mark. They now have a child together and are living in Denmark, and I am eager for the day I can visit them again. On that Fulbright year I was doubly blessed to also meet Julie and Jeremy. Julie came along at a time when I was sincerely doubting my Americanness. I had met several Americans whom I really disliked, and here I was enamored of these northern Europeans. Maybe something was wrong with me. But when I met Julie I loved her instantly. It was not long before I discovered she was also from Wisconsin. This was when I realized that no matter how far I travel, I will have Wisconsin encoded on my heart, my way of seeing, my interactions with others. Towards the end of our time there we also met Lothar (he of the new housing fame) and his wife. Lothar was also a social scientist doing a PhD on Ghanaian immigrants and the impact of their remittances on their families at home. We have since met Lothar for coffee nearly once a year, anytime we fly through Amsterdam on KLM. I feel so fortunate to have found such a wonderful colleague who so closely shares my interest in Ghanaian migrants, who is also a warm and charming person.
All this nostalgia was brought about because today we saw our new house. for the first time we will not be living with ante C at the guesthouse where I have spent a total of more than a year. I feel a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, the new place is not as spacious as the apartment we shared in the old obrunyi guesthouse. on the other hand, the landlady is really nice and friendly. it goes without saying that this is quite a change from our former landlady who was businesslike but a bit...well, lets just leave it at that.
We will have the place to ourselves, which also cuts both ways. On one hand, it means we are insulated from the random obrunyi coresidents at the old guesthouse, usually an assortment of young 20s expats from Europe and North America. Many are there on medium or short term engagements with NGOs. Like when I was in college, I have often found that I have very little in common with folks who want nothing more than to go out and drink beer and hang out in a bar. Like Dr. Suess, I will not enjoy it here, I will not enjoy it there, I will not enjoy it in a car at a bar. I will not enjoy it at home in college, I will not enjoy it while living afar. I do not like beer Sam I am.
On the other hand, as my thoughts above indicate, I have also been regularly blessed to find incredible friendships, most of which originated in one way or another at that old guesthouse compound. As Terry and I walked away from our new home I said:
Erin: "I feel a little funny."
Terry: "I like it. It's gonna be good."
Erin: "I know. I just hope we meet some nice people. We have every other time. I hope that means it is inevitable. But I suppose it could mean we've used up all our good Ghana friend karma."
Be Wise!
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Operation House the McDonnells
I am knocking on all kinds of wood, hoping that I don't pull a "Bush" prematurely declare "Mission Accomplished," (no offense to my mom and our other Republican readers) but it seems as though yesterday we found a house! Sincere thanks to everyone who played "Operation House the McDonnells" from afar. We had a number of strong entries in this year's competition. The happy housing award goes to Lothar Smith, of the Netherlands, a friend of ours from my Fulbright time back in 2003.
It is a whole house, 2 bedrooms, to ourselves in a great location, with a wonderful warm landlady. Luckily for us, she is very choosy about who stays with her (she proudly told us the assistant deputy to the UNDP was just staying with her for the last few months). I am 100% certain that she only said yes because our friend Lothar stayed with her in 2003 and she LOVED him and his wife.
We met with her yesterday and I sort of botched the interview, because I didn't understand what was going on at first. I was used to Antie C's guesthouse where it is sort of all business and no family, so I was talking to her like a potential tenant. She was looking at me as someone who could be sharing her compound for the next few months, and she was interviewing me as family. So I did all sorts of things wrong, like brought up our issue (needing a place to live) too early in the conversation before formalities were done. Then later I asked about rent when she seemed to want to talk more about our families back home and our studies. I forgot to tell her that Terry and I were officially married, sanctioned by God and the state, so she had to ask delicately, "Sooo, its a two bedroom house, would you each be looking to rent a room separately?" Things like that.
But we've seen the place before, the location is right, the price is right, so it seems DREAMY right now. I'm even slowly getting used to the idea of a landlady who might like us like family, rather than bring me in to berate me about how the light bulb burned out. I'm holding my breath to believe it is real for when we move in, but it seems if I can avoid putting my foot in my mouth when we come over in Thursday to officially see the house, we're golden.
It is a whole house, 2 bedrooms, to ourselves in a great location, with a wonderful warm landlady. Luckily for us, she is very choosy about who stays with her (she proudly told us the assistant deputy to the UNDP was just staying with her for the last few months). I am 100% certain that she only said yes because our friend Lothar stayed with her in 2003 and she LOVED him and his wife.
We met with her yesterday and I sort of botched the interview, because I didn't understand what was going on at first. I was used to Antie C's guesthouse where it is sort of all business and no family, so I was talking to her like a potential tenant. She was looking at me as someone who could be sharing her compound for the next few months, and she was interviewing me as family. So I did all sorts of things wrong, like brought up our issue (needing a place to live) too early in the conversation before formalities were done. Then later I asked about rent when she seemed to want to talk more about our families back home and our studies. I forgot to tell her that Terry and I were officially married, sanctioned by God and the state, so she had to ask delicately, "Sooo, its a two bedroom house, would you each be looking to rent a room separately?" Things like that.
But we've seen the place before, the location is right, the price is right, so it seems DREAMY right now. I'm even slowly getting used to the idea of a landlady who might like us like family, rather than bring me in to berate me about how the light bulb burned out. I'm holding my breath to believe it is real for when we move in, but it seems if I can avoid putting my foot in my mouth when we come over in Thursday to officially see the house, we're golden.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Terry, Where's your bag?
So, Erin and I went grocery shopping on Friday at Koala supermarket (more like superstore - it is functionally a very small wal-mart with a lack of market consistency...WHERE ARE MY LEMON COOKIES?). We have some Ghana favorites, goods and meals you can't effectively make in the US that we crave when we're away. For one, there are these incredible lemon cookies made in Sri Lanka, which Koala didn't have in stock. But we found many of our other favorites. Locally made Lebanese yogurt with muesli and honey, strawberry FanYogo (frozen yogurt in a hot pink plastic pouch which you suck like nectar from the bag), and other exciting favorites.
After checking out at the register (and after some confusion about money - they've redenominated the cedi since we left, so now one cedi is approximately a dollar, but locals still use old short hand. 50 cedis used to mean 50,000 cedis which is approximately 5 bucks...when they now say 50 cedis, it confuses us because it should mean US$50), we headed outside to find a cab. Taxi drivers line up outside waiting for the next fare, and after negotiating with a driver for a ride to Victor's house we were on our way. A fair price to Victor's neighborhood is 3.5 cedis, but the driver insisted on 5...we brought him down to 4, which was a feat since he had a posse of other drivers with him that insisted a fair price was 5.
On the way Erin had a rather nice conversation with the driver (Willy) about politics (Ghanaians abroad shouldn't have the right to vote absentee for elections), and about Willy's da job as a graphic designer. Erin gave him a rather brilliant idea for a new t-shirt (one that says OBRUNI on the front, the local nickname for "white person"), and Willy gave him his business card.
Well, Willy takes us safely to Victor's place. Groceries in tow, I reach my hand around an unlock the gate's padlock while working to settle Victors 6 dogs (two rottwielers, two GIANT African dogs who are trained to subdue lions, and two plump Jack Russell terriers). As we get in the gate Erin says "Hey Terry...Where is your BAG?!" At which point I crap my pants...my bag has my computer, my cell phone, and a notebook full of all my Ghana contacts and fieldnotes from our last visit. This is all too funny, since 1) I never lose things - Erin is the "loser" in our family, I am the "finder," and 2) just the night before I tried to leave the same bag with the same contents in a restaurant until Erin realized I had left it.
OH MY GOD! I'm thinking...what can we do. Well, Erin has his business card and our handy cellphones. She gives him a ring and he says he'll be right back. WOO freakin' HOO! I step outside the gate, and Erin proceeds to become the sole target of the dogs' attention - they LOVE her because she's allergic to them...She starts freaking out (a little) screaming for Victor's employee Elijah for help. After I ask if she's getting mauled and needs help (how chivalrous of me), Erin makes it in the house. Whew!
So back to my bag. After standing outside for ten minutes, I start my panicking. "He just left, what could be taking him so long? Is he deciding whether to keep the bag, computer, cell phone for himself? Has he been considering writing a dissertation on AIDS media in Accra, and lo and behold, here is a book full of fieldnotes?" Luckily he rounded the corner shortly thereafter - he had already picked up another fare and felt he had to drop them off before returning my bag. I tipped him generously, praised him for his kindness, and maybe wept a little.
I find my way back inside the house, only to find complete darkness. The power is out for its 5 day cycle, and we don' t have any idea where the candles are. Luckily our cellphones have little key lights in them that last for maybe 20 seconds of light. Erin runs to the bathroom and blindly cleans off dog slobber. I scamper around the house with my cell phone looking for candles (should have thought to ask victor about this earlier). I ultimately find two candles to light the giant house, hoping they don't burn down before the power turns back - otherwise we'll be sitting in the dark playing word games, again.
Luckily, this comedy of errors comes to a close just minutes after the candles are lit, when the juice flips back on. Erin and I immediately turn on the tv, open a bottle of water, pop some popcorn, and remark on the lessons learned. Lesson 1, Ghana 2007: make friendly with cab drivers and always get their phone numbers.
After checking out at the register (and after some confusion about money - they've redenominated the cedi since we left, so now one cedi is approximately a dollar, but locals still use old short hand. 50 cedis used to mean 50,000 cedis which is approximately 5 bucks...when they now say 50 cedis, it confuses us because it should mean US$50), we headed outside to find a cab. Taxi drivers line up outside waiting for the next fare, and after negotiating with a driver for a ride to Victor's house we were on our way. A fair price to Victor's neighborhood is 3.5 cedis, but the driver insisted on 5...we brought him down to 4, which was a feat since he had a posse of other drivers with him that insisted a fair price was 5.
On the way Erin had a rather nice conversation with the driver (Willy) about politics (Ghanaians abroad shouldn't have the right to vote absentee for elections), and about Willy's da job as a graphic designer. Erin gave him a rather brilliant idea for a new t-shirt (one that says OBRUNI on the front, the local nickname for "white person"), and Willy gave him his business card.
Well, Willy takes us safely to Victor's place. Groceries in tow, I reach my hand around an unlock the gate's padlock while working to settle Victors 6 dogs (two rottwielers, two GIANT African dogs who are trained to subdue lions, and two plump Jack Russell terriers). As we get in the gate Erin says "Hey Terry...Where is your BAG?!" At which point I crap my pants...my bag has my computer, my cell phone, and a notebook full of all my Ghana contacts and fieldnotes from our last visit. This is all too funny, since 1) I never lose things - Erin is the "loser" in our family, I am the "finder," and 2) just the night before I tried to leave the same bag with the same contents in a restaurant until Erin realized I had left it.
OH MY GOD! I'm thinking...what can we do. Well, Erin has his business card and our handy cellphones. She gives him a ring and he says he'll be right back. WOO freakin' HOO! I step outside the gate, and Erin proceeds to become the sole target of the dogs' attention - they LOVE her because she's allergic to them...She starts freaking out (a little) screaming for Victor's employee Elijah for help. After I ask if she's getting mauled and needs help (how chivalrous of me), Erin makes it in the house. Whew!
So back to my bag. After standing outside for ten minutes, I start my panicking. "He just left, what could be taking him so long? Is he deciding whether to keep the bag, computer, cell phone for himself? Has he been considering writing a dissertation on AIDS media in Accra, and lo and behold, here is a book full of fieldnotes?" Luckily he rounded the corner shortly thereafter - he had already picked up another fare and felt he had to drop them off before returning my bag. I tipped him generously, praised him for his kindness, and maybe wept a little.
I find my way back inside the house, only to find complete darkness. The power is out for its 5 day cycle, and we don' t have any idea where the candles are. Luckily our cellphones have little key lights in them that last for maybe 20 seconds of light. Erin runs to the bathroom and blindly cleans off dog slobber. I scamper around the house with my cell phone looking for candles (should have thought to ask victor about this earlier). I ultimately find two candles to light the giant house, hoping they don't burn down before the power turns back - otherwise we'll be sitting in the dark playing word games, again.
Luckily, this comedy of errors comes to a close just minutes after the candles are lit, when the juice flips back on. Erin and I immediately turn on the tv, open a bottle of water, pop some popcorn, and remark on the lessons learned. Lesson 1, Ghana 2007: make friendly with cab drivers and always get their phone numbers.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
We're Ghana Love It Here!
So we're homeless, my stomach's upset, and we're about to be soaked...
As Erin and I hide from the insta-monsoon that is presently keeping us trapped in "Palace" internet cafe, I decided I should start a new blog for our Ghana trip. Welcome to Be Wise, Don't Urinate Here! Named after my favorite phrase from the Accra Metropolitan Assembly, posted (or rather painted) on walls throughout the city, often with a picture of a guilty local hunched near the wall, or with an image of a local cop policing improper public pissing. If only the cop had a text bubble over his head: "Charlie, go for the gutter next time...go for the gutter." Like a good sociologist, I'll be sure to post a picture as evidence.
No housing yet. Auntie C, whose guest house is our typical haunt, is all booked up for the foreseeable future. We are working our other contacts, but no luck so far. We'll keep you up-to-date.
We're staying with our lovely friend Victor, who is kind enough to put us up at this beautiful house (hot showers, a/c, playstation 3 and all) until we a) find an apartment, or b) overstay our welcome. It is certainly a nice way to transition into "African Living." His mother (whose medical clinic is on the property) is a great cook, and has been feeding us Jollof rice...she'd better stop being nice to us or else she'll have two adopted children on her hands.
Most of the day my stomach has been upset - I blame myself. The first opportunity off the plane at Victor's place I brushed my teeth...using the water from the tap. I just wasn't thinking...there I was at this nice house! If I've done anything to risk Montezuma's wrath, that was it.
The weather has been cool for Ghana (low 80s) and breezy. Apparently all the rain we are having has cooled Accra down. Damn, I'll pay for an umbrella!
Internet at our favorite ex-pat, American diner style place has sped up since we were here in December. That is good news for us. Erin's computer has a camera, so we might be able to set up video chat for all of you folks with webcams. If not, we have skype accounts and can probably have a solid phone conversation with you over skype.
Ok, that is all for now. More updates down the road. Much love!
Terry
As Erin and I hide from the insta-monsoon that is presently keeping us trapped in "Palace" internet cafe, I decided I should start a new blog for our Ghana trip. Welcome to Be Wise, Don't Urinate Here! Named after my favorite phrase from the Accra Metropolitan Assembly, posted (or rather painted) on walls throughout the city, often with a picture of a guilty local hunched near the wall, or with an image of a local cop policing improper public pissing. If only the cop had a text bubble over his head: "Charlie, go for the gutter next time...go for the gutter." Like a good sociologist, I'll be sure to post a picture as evidence.
No housing yet. Auntie C, whose guest house is our typical haunt, is all booked up for the foreseeable future. We are working our other contacts, but no luck so far. We'll keep you up-to-date.
We're staying with our lovely friend Victor, who is kind enough to put us up at this beautiful house (hot showers, a/c, playstation 3 and all) until we a) find an apartment, or b) overstay our welcome. It is certainly a nice way to transition into "African Living." His mother (whose medical clinic is on the property) is a great cook, and has been feeding us Jollof rice...she'd better stop being nice to us or else she'll have two adopted children on her hands.
Most of the day my stomach has been upset - I blame myself. The first opportunity off the plane at Victor's place I brushed my teeth...using the water from the tap. I just wasn't thinking...there I was at this nice house! If I've done anything to risk Montezuma's wrath, that was it.
The weather has been cool for Ghana (low 80s) and breezy. Apparently all the rain we are having has cooled Accra down. Damn, I'll pay for an umbrella!
Internet at our favorite ex-pat, American diner style place has sped up since we were here in December. That is good news for us. Erin's computer has a camera, so we might be able to set up video chat for all of you folks with webcams. If not, we have skype accounts and can probably have a solid phone conversation with you over skype.
Ok, that is all for now. More updates down the road. Much love!
Terry
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