Of Beaches and Crows, TroTros and Markets

We had our registration orientation today, and man is it ever annoying to sit in a room full of people who all ask the same question over and over again! But I put the time to productive use and I am writing a story along the lines of the 'Just So' stories, which tell how certain things in nature came to be. Mine is called How Crow Got His Vest. The crows here in Ghana are not black all over like in North America. Instead they have a little white collar, and on their chests it turns into a vest-like thing, white on an otherwise black bird. It is striking. One of the girls on the trip turned twenty-one the other day, and at the end of our nightly dance routines, the professor had us all tell a group story. It got all long and rambling, about a camel in southern california who ended up in china crying, and I could see it getting just horrid, so I jumped in with my part and said "And the camels tears are what made the yang-tze river," which impressed EVERYONE, including the teacher.Later for Sirina's birthday we were all in a circle and he came up to me and said that I should tell a story about her, so I made up a story about a young woman adventuring far from her home and her friends on a very very important day, a girl who was afraid that this occaision might not be marked the same way here, that it might go forgotten among the strangers she now lived with. But the strangers got together and made the day as special as they knew how, so that the girl didnt have to worry. It ended up being a really cool story. so... I was talking to Oh Nii Sowah, (the dance professor who has been instructing us in the evenings.)..since I am really getting into the bamboo flute that is played here (of our little group I was by far the best...prior experience with music has helped A LOT, and it is only one key, so very simple), and I am going to take the instrumental/vocal class instead of drumming or dance (or maybe in addition to dance). When I went up to him to say thank you, he said that he was looking forward to me in the class, and that he would have me doing mostly storytelling. That got me thinking, and today's free time in addition to an annoying crow at the break gave rise to the story that will be posted soon. Its going to be good!

We had a couple of professors in today to talk about research methods for the project we are doing, and I have some really cool ideas from them. For one thing, I am going to put together a little set of questions and get an interpreter/assistant to help, and interview people who live in Jamestown and Usshertown today about their history and how they feel about the loss of prestige their neighborhoods have gone through in the last fifty years or so. During colonial times they were very powerful and wealthy, but today they are slums. SO, a little ethnographic research and a modern voice to give context to some dry dusty dates about wars between holland and britain two hundred fifty years ago.

And last night was reggae night at Labadi beach, which was a blast. About thirty of us went, with our student guides chaperoning. I got my first marriage proposal, from this rasta guy who wanted me to take him home with me. DONT WORRY, it is one of the first things out of most guys' mouths when they meet american girls here, and all you have to say is "No, thank you, I am not interested" and they go away. The beach was gorgeous under the moon, with the surf all warm (gulf of guinea waters!!) instead of FREEZING like it is at Natural Bridges so late at night.

Today I went to Medina Market, which was a short Tro-Tro ride away from the campus. I paid 15 peswas (about $0.15) and Mikaela, Steven and I crowded into a clunking van crammed withe people while the driver honked his horn and the assistant waved and shouted "Medinaassisamedinaassisa" out the window, indicating the eventual destination of the vehicle. Then we pulled out onto the road and proceeded at about 12 miles an hour (due to traffic) for the next little while, stopping at random places in the road to pick up or drop off passengers, seemingly at the whim of the driver, or maybe by the grace of god (like everything else in this country). When we got to the market we spilled from the van onto the dusty side of a street, lined with little shantyshacks housing purveyors of everything you could ever want. Old shoes? You got it. Live or dead chickens? No problem. Getting married? We have double-wide latex foam mattresses (what everyone sleeps on here) covered in honeymoon prints. I got a dress for 12,000 cedis ($1.20), a necklace and earrings for $3.50, and an AMAZING pineapple for 50 peswas. Also, we wandered through this neighborhood full of little children playing in the dirt or coming home from school, baby goats tripping over rocks in the path, spotted mother hens shepherding their broods through the rubble, and general color, sound, and smell associated with poverty. We also found an amazing welcome. Everyone we passed greeted us, said hello, and asked how we were and where we were from. The little kids followed us shouting "Obruni!" until we stopped to say hi. I took their picture, and when I showed them the photo I had taken they got SO EXCITED. It was really cool. More about wildlife, the beach, and all kinds of lovely stuff soon, and that story.