The "Spaceship" Ride

Day 2:

So, I did not get my wake-up call this morning and awoke to Cheri (a colleague who is also here for research) banging on my door at 9:21 saying that the bus is leaving at 9:30! Well, I threw on my yoga pants (good call Kathleen!), brushed my teeth, and headed downstairs. Today, I felt like a real tourist….we drove around the city in a HUGE air-conditioned coach and visited every museum in Accra! This is not my preferred way to see the city and I felt like I was in this spaceship as I looked down at the locals from a thick piece of glass, some of them staring at me as though I really were an alien! However, JMU has allowed me to attend all of the events with the students so I did not pass up this opportunity, and can say that I managed to make a few observations from the bus. First, when I said yesterday that you could buy anything on the streets of Accra, this is not an exaggeration; among the items for sale were pastel recliners, mops, brooms, water, bananas, pineapple, whole fish, cell phones, tires, toilets, roasted corn, articles of clothing, and probably whatever else you can imagine! There were also many street vendors that wander out into traffic to try to sell their goods to the motorists when stopped at red lights. Personally, I love the idea of paying 50 cents for a cold, fresh pineapple juice without having to even get up. In fact, I am not sure that you have to do anything other than reach into your pocket. It seemed so ironic that of all the conveniences that we have in America that are not easily found in other countries, we do not have vendors bringing goodies to us in our car, distracting us from the fact that we are stuck in traffic. In fact, I think it is probably illegal and maybe would get annoying after a while! But it is new to me, and right now I love the concept! Anyway, there were many, many vendors, of which a sizeable portion devoted their time to selling goodies to the proverbial tourists and they often swarmed the bus, as we stuck out like a sore thumb. At every stop, people crowded the doors where we were supposed to exit holding up an assortment of beads, bracelets, and wood carvings. Some of the students eagerly jumped at the opportunity to buy these trinkets for next to nothing, but I must have learned something in my 12+ years of traveling abroad because I was content to watch the world go by. I didn’t need any trinkets today…this trip is not about fashion or shopping or any of these trifles that concern and amuse me at home; this trip is about research, overcoming heartache, and rediscovering myself. And I can put my finger on what I learned from past travels- whatever I buy now I must carry around for the next six weeks!

More observations- animals such as peacocks, roosters, and baby goats randomly wander around, it is impolite to shake or gesture with the left hand as it is considered unclean, Ghanaians transport almost everything on their heads including trays filled with bottles of water to sell that look incredibly heavy, license plates that are black indicate a military vehicle, while yellows ones are reserved for commercial vehicles, Hakuna matata is very much a way of life here, all school children, including those that attend public schools are required to wear uniforms, most of the "authentic" treasures in the market are in fact, mass produced, and landfills and toilets seem to be pretty much wherever you fancy them to be. As we drove by the coast line I eagerly looked out to see the beautiful ocean that I could soon swim in, only to find that the beach was littered with trash. We also saw cattle on the beach (an odd site and one I cannot mentally compare to cattle grazing on the green pastures in Virginia without feeling as though I am having an episode of vertigo) though I am pretty sure that they were not grazing on much of anything. The highlight of the tour for me was the traditional Ghanaian lunch where I ate fried red snapper, fried plantains, black-eyed peas, a new version of Jollof rice, and some yummy spinach with sesame seed paste sprinkled over top, called pavlova As I sucked down my orange Fanta, I began to think how Coca-Cola is so universal. It seems as though I have drunk a Coke product in every country that I have visited. Here in Ghana, the three Coke products that are in abundance are traditional cola, sprite, and fanta. But the star in my mind is the traditional Ghanian drink of pineapple juice. So far, I have drank bottled pineapple juice plain, pineapple-lemon juice and pineapple ginger juice. I will have to see if I can get this at home. You don’t understand and cannot until you have experienced this drink- it is goodness in a bottle, so utterly refreshing with just the right amount of sweetness. Impeding satisfaction and fulfillment are the only things that come to mind as I pop off the cap and take the first gulp. It is golden in color, and I imagine that if you could put a taste to something as fine and regal as gold, this would actually be it. For the next few weeks, I intend to subsist off of pineapple juice and jollof.

As we are chatting on the bus, Cheri pulls out a book of symbols and says that she plans on getting a tattoo of one of them when she gets home. She has tatoos on her feet that represent her travels in Australia, China and Peru. In this moment, Andy creeps into my mind as we promised each other that we would get a tattoo together,. I have gone back forth between getting a tatoo for a few years now, and he said that he would do it with me and now my decision was made-I had to go through with it. When we broke up, I decided that the scar on my arm from our four-wheeling adventures was tattoo enough and vowed never to get one. But maybe I will reconsider. I am thinking that if I actually get the good luck symbol sewn into my flesh that good luck will then truly be mine for the rest of my life. Cheri wants to get a tattoo of a symbol of a saying that goes something like this, " A mistake is not a mistake if you admit it and learn from it." I probably messed that up as I do not have the book in front of me at this very moment, but it does make me think…why are symbols so important to us? Why are they so significant that we would actually consider embedding them into our skin? And why would a girl such as me who doesn’t believe in signs even consider this…maybe I just want a tattoo. If nothing else, it is permanent, a change, and I will be a different version of who I was before. After all, isn’t that what I am striving for on this trip? Cheri and I continue our conversation about the poor high school curricula, student evaluations, and the necessity to make students analyze material rather than just comprehend it. We then stop at a local market, and we are told to practice our bargaining "skills". I learned today that this is a key cultural difference between Ghanaian culture and American culture. Here you must bargain for almost everything, although there are a few exceptions like hotel rooms, set prices for meals in restaurants, etc. But, if you want to something on the street, you will need to bargain for sure. Apparently, in Ghana bargaining is seen as a conversation, a chance to engage those around you. In fact, for some it is seen as a theatrical performance, where the two people engaged in the transaction try to read each other. If the seller knows that you will not be willing to pay the price he is asking, he is inclined to lower the price, but if he feels that you will pay more, he will continue to negotiate. Both parties feed off each other’s energy, and read the other’s expressions. So some see it as a drama playing out on the street, while it reminds me of a poker game! In the end, you pay only what the item is worth to you personally, and this can of course vary from person to person. The seller, will part with the item only if the price is high enough in his mind so the two must come to mutual understanding or there is no deal. And, at the end of the day, everyone wants a deal!