Happy Halloween

Last night I took Brian out to dinner for his birthday to the nicest restaurant in Accra, Monsoon. We shared a salad seasonally fresh with pumpkin, cashews and mozzarella cheese. Brian dined on a filet of warthog (Pumba to little children and lovers of The Lion King) while I had a delicious pesto pasta vegetable dish. We topped it off with some red wine and a chocolate brownie and vanilla ice cream. The meal was fantastic and the company even better :)

We're headed off to Togo for the weekend, the country just to the east of Ghana. Togo is known for its voodoo culture and the majority of its population maintains indigenous religious beliefs. We're in for an interesting trip!

Speaking of the land of voodoo and in the spirit of Halloween, here's a fun memory about that imaginative holiday from my childhood.

Ode to Halloween

My dad is a pretty competitive guy. This has been terrifically demonstrated every Halloween during my childhood for as long as I can remember. This is the time of year when he brings out the big guns.

My father’s desire to dominate accompanied by his stellar sweet tooth make him the most strategic trick-or-treating executor of all time. He is a man with a plan for his children when it comes to playing tricks and hoarding treats.

First, you start things off with the trick-or-treat bag. Now we’re not talking about leftover grocery bags you decorate at school. They can’t withstand the capacity for which their cavities will be filled by sugary goodness. No, no, you need a pillowcase. Here you have the sturdiness of cotton along with enough space to hurl in your Halloween costume when it starts to impede your breathing towards the end of the night.

Next, you have a well planned out schedule and route of the various neighborhoods to hit up over the allotted two hours of treatin’ time. Of course you have to go to the usual places my mother wouldn’t dare allow us to forget: aunts, uncles, grandparents and the houses that give out the good stuff (thanks Marianne!). With all of these places taken into consideration my dad has destined us for the ultimate in chocolate and gummy consumption.

Alas, you have the critical trick-or-treating vehicle, the soccer mom mini-van. The van, ours a non-threatening plum color, is the perfect mode of transportation for the usual 5-10 kids that boarded this crazy adventure each year. It can cram in a large crowd all decked out in full costume, as well as allow for ease of jumping out its’ large side door without really having to come to a complete stop. My dad was good at this maneuver.

Weaving in and out of the small neighborhood streets, my dad would point to a house and yell, “Go, go, go!” It was game time. We flew out of the van like well-trained soldiers ready to fight in a world of candy corn and caramel chews. Over the next couple of hours we would run from house to house, knocking, tricking and treating. If the people took too long to come to the door, we moved on. We’d easily bypass slower kids, kids too lame to know this was a competition and that we were going to win.

By the end of the night, after dropping off the other treaters, we went home to revel in our victory. My mom knew the drill and had the dinner table cleared and the weight scale ready. My sister, brother and I each took turns weighing our pillowcased prizes and dumping our loads onto the table for sorting to determine who would prevail as the confectionery champion. My dad always had to ‘inspect’ our treasures first to ensure there was nothing suspicious hidden somewhere inside a Baby Ruth or Snickers bar. The inspection always proved successful at least from his point of view.

Looking back, I recall there was the year I went as the bearded lady; attempting to be voluptuous by stuffing my oversized Goodwill shirt and pants with pillows but looking more like the Pillsbury doughboy with facial hair. There was the year my 4^th grade sister amounted to an unidentifiable whimsical mass of red lips; fangs, hair and a cape, scaring off other innocently costumed trick-or-treaters. There was the year my brother went as a warlock or death (as it is still yet to be determined) and became no more than a pair of eyes peering through a black swath of cloth, which later proved difficult to find him in photos. Finally, there was the year of the mummy where I ended up unraveled, adorning my collection of tattered sheets over my arm, left only to reveal the Pinocchio shirt I had on underneath confusing those passing out candy doorstep after doorstep.

The last time we celebrated Halloween this way I was well into high school. Fortunately, I didn’t let that phase me; neither did a few of my close friends. We were decked out in full zombie gear, pillowcases in hand. The night was ours for the taking; no little kids were going to stand in our way. Even when mothers handing out goodies at their front doors asked if we were too old for this, we laughed and said no way (and then muttered something about it being our last year…). My dad ran to and from the van cheering us from the sidewalk, coaching us on our sugary quest. It was just as great as all the other Halloweens that had come before. The night ran like clockwork, like the well-oiled candy machine my dad spent so many years creating and molding.

Halloween - my favorite time of year, thanks dad.

Hello 30!

This week Brian embarks upon a new decade in life, he turns the big 3-0!

So what does it mean to say goodbye to your 20's? Does it mean you are now officially an adult? Does it mean you'll be more serious and have less fun? Does it mean you'll stop drinking milk straight from the carton?

Heck no! Well maybe that last one....

In honor of this epic event here are some tips to help Brian know what not to do once he turns 30, according to esquire.com.

Things a Man Should Never Do After the Age of 30

1. Use the word party as a verb.

2. Shots.

3. Jell-O shots. Especially Jell-O shots.

4. Read a book with the words Zen and the Art of in the title.

5. Do impressions of Austin Powers characters, especially Dr. Evil.

6. Help friends move. (not likely in San Francisco)

7. Ask friends to help you move. (ditto)

8. Crash on a friend's floor or couch.

9. Experiment with facial hair. (ooohh this one will be tough)

10. Apply paint to your face for any reason at all.

11. Remove your shirt in public--unless there is sand and a large body of water nearby.

12. Use the word dude, except when referring to a ranch or a well-dressed Englishman.

13. Own a futon.

14. Own a beanbag chair.

15. Own a Lava lamp.

16. Play fantasy sports (ouch!)

17. Sleep past 10:30.

18. Cook exclusively on a George Foreman grill.

19. Fall asleep in public.

20. Engage in pranks involving airborne food.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRIAN!!! (and thanks for going first...love ya!)

Convenience in Airport Residential

The minor, insignificant, everyday occurrences are so easily forgotten as we move about our busy lives. However, there are a few things I don't want to forget about everyday living in Accra.

Our neighborhood, Airport Residential, boasts a local convenience store we frequent several times a week. So you may wonder, what might you find at a local Ghanaian convenience store?

All Day Breakfast in a can. This morning delicacy can be enjoyed any time of day. Brian gives it two thumbs up!
Here's what it looks like out of the can, you be the judge:

For a quick meal, we go back to the college dorm days of Ramen noodles. The brand is different but the taste is quite the same, despite most packages being well past their expiration dates.

How about a snack? Most crackers you find at the store are of the British biscuit (cookie) sort, so after trying a handful we've settled on these Cream Crackers. They are salty and go well with peanut butter. But don't be fooled, the peanut butter is REAL (i.e. no sugar added), no Jif or Peter Pan here!

And for dessert? In Kenya we enjoyed the hazelnutty goodness of Nutella. In Ghana, we've become fond of Nutella's cousin, Bifarella.

Wine anyone? South Africa is known all around the world for its terrific wine so we're very pleased to find it sitting on the shelf. This shiraz is plummy with a spicy nose. (And it has a cool giraffe on the front....bonus!)

Ma Gina, the name of our local store, usually has anwhere from 3 to 4 young women working at any given time. Unfortunately only one seems to be of any help while the others are either sleeping or talking on their mobiles. There's a television outside in the entranceway where you'll usually find a group of men watching soccer matches.

For fresh produce we're lucky to have a local vegetable stand around the corner run by a young woman named Delight. She's always greeting us with a big grin and a you are welcome, the standard Ghanaian saying.

Photo Gallery

Brian at sunset

Jalyn at sunset

Kakum

Who is that lurking through the forest?

Impressive vine at Kakum

Shells on the beach in Elmina

View of the forest floor from the canopy walk

Cape Coast/Elmina Weekend

Last Friday, ready to leave the hectic hustle and bustle of Accra we hopped on the 4:30pm STC bus to Cape Coast. We were pleasantly surprised with the accommodation the 7.50 cedi ride provided us over the next 3 hours; reclining seats and AC. We arrived at our destination, the small town of Elmina, just 10 minutes further west from Cape Coast around 8:30pm (note that we're on Africa time so we didn't actually leave at 4:30pm...)

Ahhhh finally...the beach weekend had begun.

As we were escorted to our room at the Coconut Grove Beach Resort we heard a celebration under way. We ventured over on our walk to dinner and found a local group of dancers and drummers performing for what seemed to be the last night of a conference at the hotel. The dancers were doing everything from throwing each other through the air, doing back flip after back flip and putting fireballs out in their mouths. It was impressive and to a good beat. The show finished so we headed to dinner and enjoyed a nice meal next to the beach as the sea tossed and turned over rocks near the shore.

Saturday morning after breakfast we enjoyed a nice stroll on the beach. As we walked along the waters edge I came upon several pieces of sea glass. The further down the beach I walked I found even more, so for the next hour or so I began hoarding.... I now understand what Brian feels like when he sees a kiosk full of DVD's, it just calls to you saying, "come on in, have a look..." That's what the beach was saying to me Saturday moning "Keep on looking, maybe you'll find another piece over here and over here or over there......"

Brian was finally able to pry me off the beach plus I started to get a bad sunburn so it was time to go about the rest of our day. We took a taxi up to Kakum National Park, just about 45 minutes north of Cape Coast. Along the way, we enjoyed peering out the car window at interesting shop sign after shop sign. Favorite one reads: "Jehovah is My Refuge Mini Market Dealing in Airfresheness & General Goods Retail & Whole Sale". - priceless -

Kakum National Park is famously known in Ghana and throughout Africa for it's canopy walk. It's one of only four in the world. The walk consists of a series of 7 bridges suspended about 40 meters above the forest floor held together by ropes and cables. Brian and I were the first in our group to walk across. We took it slow and at first I didn't look down. Once I did however, I felt slightly dizzy but kept on. A few people in our group took one look at the suspended bridge and said no thank you and headed right back to their car. We took our time taking pictures and enjoying the view. When else do you get to see the forest from this height?

After the canopy walk we added on an educational hike of the surrounding forest. This only lasted about an hour and soon found ourselves back at the entrance taking in some lunch. I had the local Ghanain dish, red-red (fried plantains and black eyed peas) which was fantastic and only 3 cedi!

Originally our taxi driver was going to wait for us in the parking lot but he had received another call so appointed a fellow driver to take us back to the hotel. This was all arranged prior to us going on the walk. However, when we returned after lunch at the agreed upon time, he was nowhere to be found. We waited for about a half an hour and noticed that the park was closing. We befriended some other tourists, a couple from Nigeria, who let us use their phone to call our original taxi driver at the hotel (of course our mobile had died at the most inopportune time). We didn't have much luck and couldn't get good service so this couple agreed to drop us off in Cape Coast where we could hail a taxi back to the resort. So there we were, Brian, myself, driver from Accra, and a Nigerian couple in Ghana on holiday squished in a car talking about Lagos and the Nigerian film industry. They were the nicest people we've met so far in West Africa and are so thankful for their hospitality.

We enjoyed a magnificent sunset before dinner and then called it an early night. A fun day in nature wiped us out.

Sunday the beach was calling me again so I scoured the sand with my eyes, again finding a nice little hord of green, white and brown sea glass. We had to be on our way so we checked out and then got a lift to the St. George's Castle in Elmina. The castle, over 500 years old, was originally built by the Portuguese when they came to Ghana to trade gun and gun powder in exchange for gold and ivory. Soon thereafter they began to trade human lives. Then the Dutch came, over 100 years later, fortifying the castle and also dealing in the slave trade. The British defeated the Dutch and operated both Cape Coast Castle and Elmina Castle from then on.

Our guide said that over 12 million people had been shipped overseas during those years the castles were in operation. The rooms where people were held were dark, had poor ventilation and no place to go to the bathroom. Over 1,000 people were held at any given time: 400 women and 600 men; separately of course. Ironically there is a church in the center of the castle. What were they thinking?

It was a tough and emotional place to be. Such a dark part of human history but an important one to learn about so not to be repeated.

After spending a few hours at the castle we departed to a nearby lunch spot for a drink. Elmina is a bustling harbor town with a bridge near the castle that overlooks the Atlantic Ocean. We found an outside patio where we could people watch before we left to catch our return bus home. Everywhere we looked, wooden boats were strewn about the water, some ready to take on the day's catch, some barely floating.

Hailing a taxi back to the bus station, we grabbed a local bite and waited for our bus to arrive. We boarded around 4pm and were back in Accra just after 6pm, made better time on the return trip. The beach getaway weekend was just what we needed after feeling couped up in the capital city for a few weeks.

Ghana continues to slowly grow on us but it's important to note that it is not the job of a developing country to make its visitors feel comfortable but rather its own people feel comfortable. (I recently read this and it resonated at a time when I most needed it....)

Things I've been learning about Ghana

Okay, here goes the second posting for me (yes, I have been in Africa for over 3 months but Jalyn's so good at it...)

I've been noticing a number of interesting cultural nuances to Ghana (well, depending on the frequency per day and what mood I'm in) that I thought I'd share.

There are a huge number of taxi drivers on the street and all of them for some reason assume that you need a ride if you look foreign and are walking. As Jalyn mentioned in her previous post, their availability and excitement in providing you with the experience of riding in their rusted out 1983 Corolla is communicated through a series of honking (beginning about 2-3 block prior to reaching you), slowing down as they approach you so that all the other cars behind them reach levels of hysterical anger (if you're going below 60mph down backroads, this occurs) communicated through more horn blowing, and then finally, an arm is thrown out the window in a gesture often seen among New York taxi drivers (except without the middle finger in this case) as if to say "what? you don't need a ride?". This is done in combination with kissing sounds and Tskk-ing (see next paragraph). Funny, except it literally happens about 10 times per block.

Tskk-ing and making kissing sounds are a common way of getting someones attention. Lets say for example you want some more water at a restaurant. An "excuse me sir" is usually ineffective. The proper way to signal your need of something is to Tssk at them. Works like a charm. The kissing thing seems to be a similar technique - the nuance to which one you use when is still beyond me.

All men greet each other here with a handshake ending in a snap (using each others thumb and middle fingers to generate the snap). As an example, I went to a conference on vegetables last week and met a number of people, from input suppliers, to NGOs working with farmers, to farmers themselves. Happened with almost every greeting, unprompted in anyway. Same goes for all the men I work with at TechnoServe (non-expats), people showing us apartments, etc. Anyone who is Ghanaian and African heritage has greeted me in this way, no kidding. I'm not sure how I got invited to the club, but I love it.

As Jalyn pointed out in her previous post, many (most?) of the little businesses owned along the street (e.g., phone cards stand, automotive repair, convenience store / kiosk) have names that combine religion with whatever it is that they are selling - Praise Be Hair Salon, Almighty Tire Repair, etc. Working on a picture collection of these.

Change is rounded off to either person's favor, so don't expect to ever see an actual Peswa (penny)

Okay, so this last one isn't anything I've actually noticed, but its a good story. In Kenya, I was reading a book that had a main character based in Nairobi (Last Call at Harrods International Bar and Nightspot). This character started noticing at one point in the story that he was getting an itchy boil on the inside of the cheek of his posterior (to put it nicely). As days passed, it seemed to be getting itchier and growing bigger. He had a flashback to a conversation he had when he first arrived in the country with a diplomat at the embassy that had been living in Africa for a long time. The conversation basically was that he should always make sure that his butler ironed his undergarments. The rationale is that if you wash your garments and then let them air dry outside (as most do), sometimes a flying insect called a Jipu (I imagine a moth with big pointy fangs) will land on the wet garments and lay its eggs. If the garment is worn afterwards without ironing, the eggs will burrow into the skin and hatch into maggots that then feed on your skin until they get big enough to rupture the skin. I thought this was a bit of story-telling and told this story to my manager in Kenya (who grew up in Zaire).

She said she had this as a kid. It was painful when her father cut the little guys out. Her advice was that covering the boil in vasoline will suffocate the bugs and drive them out on their own saving you the pain of cutting. Good advice. I recently heard that they have them here in Ghana as well.

I was also advised to use dewormer if I'm in Africa longer than 6 months. "You'll know its time when you feel the sharp pains in different parts of your stomach"

Several things I've been noticing that should be considered Ghanaian adages (I know these are less good-natured, but true none the less):
The customer is not always right
Pedestrians do not have the right of way (in any situation)
Quality is less important than just finishing
If you need something, ask for it. No one will offer it otherwise

Starting to learn the ropes here. My presentation with Guinness went well and I've been starting to pull together an edited version of the presentation for a more senior management team there. I was invited to take a site tour (with tasting) at some point. More on this one to come...

-CN

Btw, did I mention that I have a spot on my leg that's been itching a lot?

Note that the sweet 'stache in this video conveys complete confidence and authority:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FTTYViwZ8c

I Spy With My Little Eye

As I walk down the side of the street, on the makeshift dirt sidewalk, trying to avoid slipping into the sewer trenches below, I spy with my little eye:

- A man blowing a horn and pushing a cart full of homemade pastries for sale

- A young woman sitting at an MTN kiosk selling minutes so you can 'top up' your mobile

- An older woman with her child selling vegetables and peanuts beneath an awning

- Construction workers renovating a concrete home

- Signs that read Amazing Grace Butchery

- A man sawing a rectangular hole in the middle of a wall

- Several taxis frantically honking and smacking at me for my attention

- A man on a bicycle, shouting, "Obruni!"

- A woman carrying a large blue tub upon her head filled with bagged up goodies for sale

- A woman on the side of the road with her pots and pans selling a traditional lunch to local businessmen

- A gentleman in a suit peeing in the gutter

- Young children dressed in school uniforms buying frozen yogurt in the hot afternoon sun

- Hundreds of small plastic bags once filled with fresh water strewn about the street and sewers

- Young men sitting on makeshift skateboards, their legs folded up, weaving in and out of traffic, begging for change

- An older man, a refugee from Chad, asking for some help

- Trucks loaded with large speakers, roaming the streets, blaring music, CD's for sale

- Nice cars, Mercedes, VW's, Toyotas racing down the street, abiding by no traffic laws

- A man carrying a large wooden tray full of sunglasses

- A man asking me if I want to purchase a small table, "Sister, I make you a good price!"

- A gentleman who claims to have taken Obama around the city when he came to Ghana. Who knows a lot about California and our Governator but whose pants appear to be falling down

What I do not spy with my little eye are street names. Or rather they may be there but nobody acknowledges them. It has proven quite challenging to make one's way around the city of Accra because of this. Say you are new and don't know your way around and wish to go to a specific restaurant you found in your Bradt guidebook. When trying to explain to the taxi driver the name of the restaurant he asks, where is it located? Being new to the area, you look at your printed map and spit out a few street names. He asks what is it next to? Is it next to such and such building, is it near the Police Station, the GLS building, the Novahill Hotel???? Ugh....unknown. So you get in and figure it out together.

Try pulling up Google maps for anything in Accra and it always puts the marker smack dab in the middle of the city.

Over time it gets easier, you learn where things are and you adapt.

You Say Tomato, I Say Tahmato.....

Not sure what to write about today. There are tons of things circling around in my brain but they tend to be on the negative side of the fence as of late. From the last series of events I can't help but look at Ghana through a negative lens. From the crazy altercation with the landlady to the continued unfriendliness in what's supposed to be regarded as one of the most friendliest countries in Africa, I'm confused. Did something go awry here that I'm not aware of? Have I turned into an evil expat without realizing it?

Coming to Africa presented itself with many unknowns which excited me. I was eager to embrace a new culture and way of life. I was quick to leave the creature comforts of home in the US. This was an adventure to be had with my new husband and we were going to learn and grow together.

And it has indeed been all of those things and more. There have been the expectant highs and lows. We've been away from the states for just over 3 months now and at times it feels like an eternity and at others it feels like we haven't been away from the city life long enough. Either way you look at it, it's been amazing. I've learned so much about myself as well as Brian and our relationship with one another. More specifically, I've learned:

- When faced with confrontation Brian is the most cool, calm and collected person I know

- When faced with confrontation I am the first to try and smooth things over or simply run away as demonstrated with the recent jumping from a moving car

- When experiencing challenges like the intense 2 hour hike to Wli upper falls, I nor Brian complained one time but instead cheered each other on as a true team

- When I'm scared about the unknowns Brian is there to comfort me

- When Brian gets frustrated with work I'm there to make him laugh

- When I catch Brian picking his nose I pick mine right along with him (j/k about me...)

- When Brian can't find his wallet, keys, money pouch or phone, I know exactly where they are

- When I forget to tuck in the shower curtain and create a massive lake on the floor, Brian is there to assess the situation and tell me what I did wrong

- When all I can find to eat are meat filled pastries, Brian knows exactly where to find me some fruit

- When it comes to negotiating, Brian is savvy and quick and can get us a good deal without disrespecting the seller

- When it comes to bargaining, I've found I too can play a good game and get a good price

- When it comes to photography, Brian has become a master at this craft and continues to shock and awe me

- When it comes to compassion, I didn't know I could have so much

- When it comes to love, it only continues to grow between us

Brian and I have always known the gifts God gave us were different from one another. The things that bring us together are also the things that define us as individuals. On Monday, we both attended a TechnoServe HR offsite that focused on personality roles and communication in teams. From the various exercises, we learned our personality outcomes to be of the complete opposite. Mine was described as Supportive and Brian's Directive. This is what the HR handbook revealed:

- In relationships with Supportives, they support their feelings by showing personal interest. Assume they will take everything personally. Allow them time to trust you. Provide guarantees and personal assurances that any actions will involve a minimum of risk. Above all, be warm and sincere.

- In relationships with Directives, support their goals and objectives. Keep your relationship businesslike. If you disagree, argue facts, not personal feelings. Be precise, efficient, and well organized. Above all, be efficient and competent.

Now of course, we are both not all of these things all of the time. We each hold other aspects to our personalities but these were the general buckets we fell into. I can really see the supportive side of myself and I can see the directive in Brian. And even though these are on opposite sides of the tracks, together they make us an impressive team. A team that takes risks, makes mistakes and succeeds. A team that despite the hurdles we may face in Ghana we will face them together, as a team. Team Feth to be exact, kind of like the A Team but without the sweet van :)