Ghana Cedis Suck Monkey Butt

So the Ghanaian government re-denominated their currency. There was a huge campaign last year about it, and they instituted the new currency in July.

I'm pissed about it, so prepare for a rant.

The old money was based on the idea that approximately ¢10,000 = $1. Now they've changed it so that approximately ¢1 = $1. Should be easy and great, right?

Nope. The idea behind it was to make easier to carry more money. But that doesn't make any sense. The most used bill before the redenomination was the ¢1,000 note- which is equal to about $.10. Now that note is a coin, and a rare one at that. You don't take the most commonly used bill and make it a coin- that isn't going to make anyone's purses any lighter.

Plus, now the bills are so large, you can never get change. You go and change money and they give you ¢5o, ¢10, and ¢20 bills. Ridiculous! Before, people didn't even want to carry a ¢5 bill because if it was stolen or lost, they would lose a lot of money. Some people now go to thebank and get their entire months salary in one bill.

Besides that, almost all of my daily transactions are for less than ¢1. Nobody keeps adequate change to break downt those bills.

So the vendors solutions? To raise prices. To round up to the nearest ¢1, whereas before, prices were rounded up to the nearest ¢.10


So by redenomintaing the cedi, the government has effectively:

1. Wasted a lot of money in redesigning and printing a whole new currency.

2. Made it impossible for you to get your change, so you lose money practically every transaction.

3. Made the prices of everything go up considerably.

Way to go, President Kufuor.

Pick-Up Line of the Day...

"Hello! I don't have any wife!"

Impromptu Adventures with Ampedoo...

Here in Ghana, every agricultural area (and fishing area, too) has a taboo day once a week. The day of the week varies from area to area, but on a taboo day, it is understood that the spirits of the forest (or water) demand that all humans stay on their roads or in their villages, and leave the spirits and their domain alone. It seems everyone has a story of what has happened to someone who has broken the taboo. Sometimes, the spirits will gently warn you by manifesting themselves in a strange sight, such as a huge, artificial light miles from civilization. Sometimes, they will teach you a lesson, such as the arrogant man who thought himself stronger than the spirits; he found a beautiful piece of cloth in the forest, but when he tried to pick it up, his fingers and toes gnarled up, leaving him crippled for the rest of his life. Sometimes, they dispense justice, such as the thief who took advantage of the empty forest to steal from others farms; he met a spirit who told him he would die that day, and the next morning, he didn't wake up.

Now from what I gather (and this is just a few sources, so don't take it as reliable, academic research or anything) the spirits are actually a society or a culture who live in a parallel universe, outside of our time/space continuum. They can go anywhere and see anyone at anytime. But there's many of them of varying ages; they give birth, grow old, and live their lives in a society that holds them accountable. They have individual temperaments and personalities. As a society, they can be reasoned with. For example, I asked what would happen if a child went missing in the forest, and they had to search for him or her on a taboo day. Apparently, the village would use a talking drum to inform the spirits of the missing child and ask that they allow a search party to enter and find the child and return to the village unharmed. Apparently, this is acceptable to the spirits.

When appearing to people, the spirits take on the form of short, black dwarves with dreadlocks. Apparently, they sometimes abduct people, especially white people (Snow White and the Seven Dwarves is apparently an African fairy tale). They don't harm the people they abduct and they bring them back whenever they ask, sometimes with pocketfuls of gold if they like the person. The abductees then return, well-fed and happy, though having lost all sense of time.

It was because of all this that Mus and I decided not to walk in the forest on Tuesday. Mus and I both thought that Tuesday was the taboo day. Still, the weather was perfect for some exercise, so we decided to take a short walk around town. I knew that later that day we would be going to the big city to visit Mus's auntie, so I decided to dress up a little with a nice sleeveless top and some nice jewelry.

As we were out and about, we decided to stop and visit Mr. Ampedoo, our friend who's a local farmer and very knowledgeable about the area. He helps us answer all kinds of questions and even takes on fantastic hikes. While visiting him,we find out that Obo in fact has several taboo days. Different sections of forest have different taboo days, based on what river they border. Mr. Ampedoo offered to take us on a short walk up a hill to see a spectacular vista of Twendurase, a neighboring village.

Well, of course, short is a relative term, and as Mr. Ampedoo and his fellow farmers are accustomed to making10 mile round trips to their farms over steep terrain with 40 lbs of produce on their heads. Still, I was in the mood to walk for awhile and I knew the forest would be beautiful, so I agreed and we set off.

As I mentioned earlier, I hadn't prepared for a hike. I didn't have on sunscreen or insect repellent, and I hadn't eaten a whole lot for breakfast that morning. So after an hour and a half, I could feel my blood sugar starting to drop. I was having so much fun,however, I did not want to turn around and head home. I also knew that if we kept walking, there was a good chance we would find some fruit to eat; luckily, when you're out in the forest it's considered absolutely fine to take fruit from someone's farm if you're hungry. The rule of thumb is that you shouldn't take more than what you can eat on the spot. I told Mus I was going to need to eat, and he told Mr. Ampedoo to keep a lookout.

Unfortunately, all the fruit we passed was too green to eat, and after another 20 min I was not feeling great. Then we spotted some palm trees that had been felled. The ends of the trees were propped up on a log, and they each had a plastic bottle under them.

Soon we located the farmers who were gathering the palm wine. They were in a small lean-to distilling the palm wine in large steel drums to concentrate the alcohol. Mr. Ampedoo asked them for some food. One farmer went out and brought us a bottle of what he said is his sweetest palm wine, fresh from the tree, and the other took some fire from under the steel drum and roasted some plantain for us.

It certainly wasn't my favorite food; I've never cared much for plantain and fresh palm wine tastes a bit like vinegarette salad dressing. I also had the strong suspicion that since the palm wine was just sap straight from the tree, that I was probably drinking a great deal of bugs from the black, opaque jug. Still, it was fun, all of us eating this farm fresh meal, and moreover, I needed the food to get home and it's what was available.

They gave us a bottle of the leftover wine and after a long rest and some good conversation, Mus and Mr. Ampedoo and I headed for home.

On our way home, we passed an elderly woman who was on her way to her farm. Mus and I both greeted her politely, and then kept walking, but Mr. Ampedoo stopped to chat with his friend. She asked him, wide-eyed, if he was with the obruni (meaning me). She said she couldn't believe her eyes seeing an obruni all dressed up, walking out of the forest in the middle of the afternoon. She said that until I greeted her, she thought that maybe I was a spirit or something in disguise.

We all had a good laugh about that. So Mus and I returned home; I brought home a wicked sunburn on my shoulders and Mus brought home a bottle of palm wine that was indeed full of bugs.

More Photos

Here are some links to my latest batches of photos.

Photos of Dogs

Requiem for A Tree

Pretty Pics

I'm Getting the Giggles

Baby It's Cold Outside...

We're having a cold snap in Ghana! Here in the mountains, it's actually cold enough that I can wear long sleeves and pants outside! Yes, that means it's about 60 degrees. Still, it is nothing short of amazing (and keep in mind that I am located a couple hundred miles from the Equator).

So Mus and I have been hiking up a storm. The wind has been really strong- The reason it's so cold, is because cold dry winds from the Sahara are sweeping down to Ghana. So the high today was in the mid seventies, with no humidity, and a strong wind that felt a bit colder, like the upper 60s.

Anyway, I took a funny photo today, and I wanted to share it. This is how Ghanaians face the "cold."

How I Spent My New Year's Eve...

When I'm in a situation involving explosives or fire, I tend to think of my brother. I bet many of our friends would agree- when you think of explosives, you think of Adam. But when I'm in a situation that I feel would make Adam nervous, then I know I'm in trouble.

But let me start from the beginning. Mus and I wanted to go out for New Years- in the past, we've always stayed in on New Years Eve and I wanted something different this year. I requested dancing and/or fireworks. Big mistake.

The whole things even started off on the wrong foot. Mus and I decided to go to Osu, which is where most tourists stay in Accra, for their New Year's street carnival. Now, Osu is a good 45 min. cab ride from where Mus's family lives, and there's a really good secondhand book store there. I was in need of some new novels, so Mus and I set off at 4pm so we could make it there before the bookstore closes. I knew it would be too early for the carnival yet, but I thought it was dumb to make two trips to Osu, and I figured the carnival would start around 7pm or so.

Error followed by error. We arrive at the bookstore to find a lady standing in front of it. She owns the store next door, and she tells us that the man who owns the bookstore just left; in fact, we passed him on the stairs coming up to the second story shop. She points to him below us and we wave, asking him to let us shop. After all, according to the sign, the store doesn't close until 6:30pm- and it's not yet 5pm. He shakes his head and leaves. We look at the lady, and she explained that he wanted to leave early because of all the people who were coming into town for carnival.

I blink. “You mean, he wants to leave because of all the people, all the potential customers that will be choking the streets in front of his shop?”

She nods. “Wow,” I say, “that's a good business model to follow.”

Apparently, on New Year's Eve most people go and spend the whole night in church. He didn't want to be late for church, I guess.

So I was annoyed that we came in early just to go to this shop, and without warning, they closed early. So Mus and I got some food and settled in to wait for the carnival to begin.

It was quite a wait. 7 hours later, it's midnight, and the “organizers” (you need a pretty loose definition to call them that) are still setting up the stage and sound equipment! The party wasn't even started! I was pissed and tired and bored. If we hadn't come early to buy the books, Mus and I wouldn't have arrived until 8pm or so- and would have been waiting 4 hours, not 7. And we didn't even get the stupid books! Aaaagggh!

But just wait, the night's not over yet. Right after midnight, people decided to some up with some of their own entertainment. Street hawkers had been wandering the streets all night with fistfuls of fireworks- bottle rockets, sparklers, roman candles, and such. Now there were a few set off here and there early in the evening, but after midnight, the action started in earnest.

Picture this: 50 boys under the age of 15 with handfuls of fireworks and no parents in sight. Then surround them with hundreds of 20-something boys who have even more fireworks.

The place looked like a war zone. Basically, the 20-somethings split themselves into two groups who stood across the street from each other, with the little kids running and scampering in the middle. Then the two groups facing each other would light fireworks and either aim them at the other group, or sometimes just light them and throw the whole stick into the crowd across the street. The young boys just shot their fireworks any old direction. I actually saw an 11 year old boy take a lit sparkler and thrust it in another kid's face. If all those kids went home intact, it would be a New Year's miracle.

And, as another fun and exciting twist, someone decided to bring their horse into the war zone. That horse should be freakin' sainted, because he stood there in a smoky, crowded street full of loud music, and let his owner stand up and dance on his back while fireworks literally whizzed past his head and exploded. I was convinced the horse would start and his idiotic handler would fall and break his neck.

During all of this, Mus and I were stuck on a raised platform up against a building. We had relatively few fireworks stray into our direction- we were definitely safer than the people on the street- but we couldn't leave and get out of harm's way without going through the line of fire. I tried to video from our vantage point, but it seemed like every time I got the camera rolling, a firework flew at my feet. Eventually I gave up the camera in order to use my appendages for the all-important task of covering my head.

At about 1AM Mus and I decided to try and dance- there was music playing, though not very good music, and a few people were dancing up by the stage. First we had to wait until the fireworks subsided enough for us to sneak out. We got in the group, and the scene wasn't that good. Very few people were dancing, and the music kept skipping and switching. After a few minutes, someone threw a lit bottle rocket into the densely packed crow we were in. Everyone shrieked and started running, and I got pushed over, dropping my purse. I scrambled to pick up myself and my purse, and then I was done. It was time to call this night a wash and go home. I mean, I'd had just about all the fireworks and/or dancing that I could handle.

So I pieced together the fragments of video I'd taken- I know it's hard to see. The lighting definitely isn't the best. I also didn't film the craziest most active parts because of my need to duck and cover. Some highlights to look for- About halfway through, you'll see a firework zoom right over a guy's shoulder. Also, at the end, you can see the guy with his horse- I didn't get good footage of him dancing on it, but it'll give you an idea of the noise and terror that poor horse went through.

Twitterpated

So I watched Bambi again for the first time in my adult life. I remembered thinking that movie was boring as a child,but I was not prepared for the horrors waiting for me!

The movie is completely dependent on two factors:
1.You must find fluffy woodland creatures so adorable that anything they do is automatically entertaining
2.You must find it cute and/or hilarious when Bambi falls down.


And did anyone notice that the Lion King did essentially the same plot line, only they did it better? I mean, granted, Lion King is missing the whole “Humans are evil” subplot, but the main points are the same.

A. Both movies start with the birth of a prince. They even both start with the proud father on a large, prominent rock.

B. Both Simba and Bambi eventually fall in love and court their childhood playmate.

C. Both Simba and Bambi are traumatized by the loss of a parent.

D. Both movies end with the birth of the next generation of royalty.

But, unlike Bambi, the humor in the Lion King is not totally dependent on quadruped slapstick.

The only redeeming thing in the whole movie was Friend Owl. He had that Midwestern sarcasm that actually made him a character and not just a cutesy drawing.

Anyway, speaking of being Twitterpated, we've had some exciting developments of late. Hamida, Mus's sister, is in the process of getting engaged. It's been fascinating to see how this process works, here.

The first step, really, is that she and her boyfriend talked about it and decided it was time to get married. Then her boyfriend, Baba, went to his family and told them about her. Apparently, he had not really mentioned her before and they'd never met her (I'm told this isn't always the case, it depends on the family). Hamida's family, on the other hand, know Baba very well, as Hamida and Baba's “dating” involves sitting in Hamida's yard, eating and talking (I'm not sure if that was intentional, though. I think they didn't go out mostly because of Hamida's hectic work schedule. I'm not really sure what the “courting” rules or whatever are).

Anyhow, Baba went to his family and told them about Hamida and that he wanted to marry her. So Baba's family came to see Hamida's family. Now neither Baba nor Hamida could be present for this, so Baba showed his family the house and then waited outside in the street. Hamida was at work, so her parents met Baba's family before she did. This meeting between the families is called “knocking.” Baba's family brought Hamida's family crates of soda and some money as a gift. Out of tradition, Hamida's family has to say, “We'll think about it and let you know” as a response to the proposal. I guess that back in the day, the girls' parents had to say that so they could ask their daughter's opinion. Nowadays, it's the daughter who initiates the whole process, so obviously we all knew that Hamida wanted to marry him. But for tradition's sake, they told Baba's family that they would send a response in a couple of weeks.

Once they send word that they accept, then Hamida and Baba are considered engaged. Hamida's family will also send over a list of things for Baba's family to buy- “the bride price.” Now it's considered customary for the bride's family to give all of the bride price to the couple when they're married- it's kind of a way of making the groom and his family prove that they can take care of the daughter. I guess some families, especially when there are step-parents or foster parents involved, will keep the bride price for themselves, but a lot of people look down on that. And too, many of the items in the bride price, like cloth and jewelry, are good gifts and the bride may decide to give some to her mother or sisters.

So then Baba's family will send word with the date for the wedding- they get to set the date, because they have to look at the bride price and decide how long it will take for them to gather all the items listed.

Anyway, Hamida and Baba are talking about getting married next fall/winter. Hopefully I'll be around then and I can tell you what it's like!

Come On, He Looks Great in a Mullet...

So my camera broke again. This time, there was no dropping or hitting involved. I was sad- I thought, at the very least, I would be camera-less until I returned to the States.

But then, I found out that I'm dating McGyver...

That's right, ladies and gentlemen. My boyfriend hunkered down with a razor blade, a bottle of superglue, and some dental floss and made my camera as good as new. He even fixed the lens cap, which now stays put better than it did when I got it.

Funny or Disturbing?

You decide....

Recent sightings:

1.A 10-year-old boy wearing a t-shirt from the band My Chemical Romance that says, “I don't need your friends, I have my own.” On the shirt are pictures of syringes.
2.A shack in the middle of one of Accra's biggest slums with a hand-painted sign on the side that reads “Radioactive Materials Sold Here.” **
3.A grinning and illiterate male taxi driver wearing a shirt that says, “Wanna have a Threesome?”



** I asked Mus what that sign could possibly be doing there. Obviously the owner of the shack had painted it on there himself. Mus says he would guess that the guys sells spare parts used to repair radios, and the the vendor thinks the “active” just means that the parts are strong and durable.