After a bit of a lazy morning today (we just stayed at home
for breakfast and hung out in the living room), we headed to our host family’s
house for lunch. Yesterday we had been
joking with Lovelyn and Charity about how we couldn’t finish the huge pot of
rice they cooked for dinner the night before.
We returned for lunch today with the promise to try harder to finish,
but it’s difficult when we are only three girls and none of us are especially
voracious eaters! Today, a lunch of yams
and spicy vegetables on the side was waiting for us, and we vowed to make more
of a dent in the still massive amount of food than the previous meal. Safe to say that we definitely ate more but
still didn’t finish. Elvis and Ema were
eating with us, and I teased them because they hadn’t finish everything on
their plates either. Which brings me to
the first part of this post’s title: the tears.
Elvis and Ema were both happily playing and eating with us, so I told
them that I had my camera and suggested we take some pictures. That went over very well, to say the
least. Soon we had five kids running
around with all three of our cameras, snapping picture after picture. Elvis was especially entranced by seeing
someone through the camera lens on the screen and taking a picture. Trouble came when Elvis was reminded that he
should put away the cameras and finish his lunch, which made him a little bit
unhappy. He alternated between pouts and
giggles for the rest of the time we were there, but when we actually left (as
in, the CAMERAS left), he lost it and started to sob. I’d like to think he was sad we were leaving,
but I think that the cameras are much more interesting than we are at this
point. We made many promises to bring
them back on Monday for dinner, and I have a feeling I will come home not with
many pictures of Elvis, but with many lopsided pictures of me taken by
Elvis!
After lunch, we had made plans with Oti to learn how to take
the tro-tros into Accra. A tro-tro is
basically a large van into which many many seats have been crammed. At Georgetown we ride in 12-person vans to
tutor with DC Reads, and I used to think those were crowded when full-not
anymore! The first tro-tro that we got
on in Dodowa had four rows of four small seats in the back, with three people
riding up front. A “mate” sits by the
door to tell people where it is going and to take money for riding. None of our rides today cost more than 50
cents in US terms, so it’s clear why they are such a popular form of
transportation. We first rode to a town
called Madina, then switched to a new tro-tro, this time with five rows of four
seats, and had a short ride to Accra from there. Once you get used to being crammed into a
vehicle that back home would probably hold half as many people, the tro-tros
aren’t too bad. They usually can’t go
very fast because of 1) numerous speed bumps around Dodowa, 2) traffic in
Accra, and 3) their frequent stops to drop off and pick up people. We got off the tro-tro in Accra right by the
mall, where we had made plans to meet up with Calvin and two of the girls going
to a site in Navrongo, which is in northern Ghana. Natasha and Libby had both flown in earlier
that afternoon, and we were excited to see them before they headed north to
start their semester. A trip to the mall
was also welcome so that we could pick up some supplies we had realized we
needed and to just get a dose of home.
Well, mission accomplished. On
one hand, I could have been at a mall back in Pittsburgh-bright stores, a food
court, movie theater, and many people enjoying a carefree day shopping. On the other hand, it still looked so
different, because most of the stores (besides the Apple store!) were
completely unfamiliar, we obviously still stuck out as abnormal in the crowd,
and a completely different variety of goods being sold. We did happen to pass by a gift shop where we
got postcards, something we were all eager to send home. Other than that, we went to Game, which was
basically like a Target or Walmart-like store.
There is also more of a grocery store there called Shop-Rite, which we
didn’t go into but should probably be useful in the future. Then, since we had some time to kill before
meeting Oti to go back home, we all piled into a cab and drove to the Best
Western where Calvin and the Navrongo girls are spending the weekend before
flying north on Monday. Don’t let the
name fool you, because this was nicer than any Best Western I’ve seen in the
states. Natasha and Libby also
graciously offered to let us shower in their rooms, since we have been out of
running water at the house since yesterday afternoon. A cool shower felt so good, and suddenly
being in such a nice clean white bathroom (with a mirror-something we do not
have at our house, save for a small compact mirror I use to put my contacts in)
made me realize how dirty I was just from a day of walking around Dodowa. I’ve given up hope of keeping my feet clean
of the red dust that always seems to be on them, but the massive supply of
assorted face/body/hand wipes that came along in my suitcase (thanks Mom!) have
been doing their job. Anyway, once we said
good-bye to Libby and Natasha at their hotel, we headed back to mall to meet
Oti for dinner. I was very excited to
get a personal pepperoni pizza that, apart from the slightly thicker and
differently tasting pepperoni, could have come from La Cappella (my favorite
place for pizza at home). That, with a
Coke to drink, made for a nice little taste of home. And even though we had to take three
different tro-tro rides home in the dark (an endeavor that I will not be
repeating without Oti with us), I’m going to bed tonight quite content. Now if only our running water would come back
on, I’d be one happy girl in Africa J
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