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.