A Million Minutes in Africa

Actually, if you had asked me last October I would have had no idea of the dramatic changes heading my way in the coming months. Since we left on our trip to Tierra del Fuego it has been a roller-coaster. The ride didn’t stop once we got back to DC. I think I have enough material to write a book about the five months of training for the new job and maybe another book for the first week or so of living in Accra. Too bad I don’t have the time or inclination.

Getting to Ghana was something. We were given tickets for business class. For me, first class is when we get the emergency exit seat. That extra few inches of leg room is pure heaven even if it is next to the mewling and puking baby that always manages to sit near me. Since few babies have the cash to ride in business class, we had it made. Not a puker in sight. Oh yeah, this will sound incredibly obnoxious, but just after you sit down they offer you champagne- I knew I hated those creeps in business class. Who else but a creep would be willing to shell out thousands of dollars for a glass of champagne? Please, please don’t write to your representative about how taxpayer dollars are wasted on my sorry self. Aside from the cushy seat with great leg room that reclines almost to a bed, there really is no reason for the extra cash required for that sweet ride. Did I mention we are working for the good of the nation? I should probably stop talking about the excellent food (on an airplane!) that you get. It is sort of like a crack dealer giving you a taste for free- you know, just try it. If you don’t like it, that’s cool, baby. So they give you this bag full of things like an eye mask and ear plugs and socks? Too bad we are not big drinkers. The people wearing uniforms kept trying to ply us with alcohol when they weren’t feeding us. I think they were nicer than your average flight attendant, too. They don’t even tell you that you have to keep your shirt on when you sleep! Really though, traveling in business class isn’t all that different from, say, a trip on a Guatemalan ‘chicken bus’. Sure, you could actually buythe bus for the cost of the ticket, but you don’t get your choice of dozens, dozens of movies on a video screen that pops up in front of you. It was such a relief not to have to watch SpyKids 5, or some other such thing. In short, people with too much money should be ashamed of themselves, but not as ashamed as the airlines should be for their blatant attempts to stir up class warfare. Sure, the true underclass is not going to get anywhere near an economy seat let alone the comfort of an ergonomically designed business seat; I swear that a giant turtle with an Igor hump has sat and slobbered in every coach seat I have had the misfortune of trying to conform to, while the business class seats left me two inches taller thanks to my improved posture.

So, none of this has anything to do with the crazy new world we have been thrust into- actually, yes, it does. These last couple of weeks have taken us far out of the comfortable little life we had created. It has provided us with new comforts and new discomforts. There was no way I was ever going to pay extra for business class which breaks down to an hourly rate roughly the same as a DC lawyer. There was no way we were going to move to a developing country unless someone came and packed all of the stuff in our cramped apartment. There was no way any of this would have happened if we hadn’t taken control to make a change. We also had to be willing to give up control of many of the changes that have come, and will come, our way.

Finally, ‘No, please,’ refers to a Ghanaian expression. The people here are another book’s worth of writing. Sorry to leave you hanging, but I have work tomorrow and about a million more pages to go before I can explain half of what we have experienced recently.

Akwaaba means welcome, and that’s how we feel in Accra, Ghana.  We don’t have home internet access yet, so we haven’t been able to update the blog till now.  I’ll catch you up by reporting on the past week in this post. 

We arrived on the evening of Sept. 28.  It was warm and humid, very similar to an August evening in DC.  A man with a sign met us and drove us to our new house.  There, our social sponsor met us.  She was assigned to help us get settled.  She made us some soup and delicious coconut-pecan-chocolate chip bar cookies, bought some basic groceries for us and showed us around the house.

Shortly after she left, Dan’s officemate and office sponsor came by with her 2 well-behaved kids.  They offered help if we needed any.  Nice!  They also warned us of airplane noise because of our proximity to the airport.  We thought, no biggie, we’re used to all that noise from Glover Park’s proximity to National Airport.  But no, we didn’t realize how good we had it in DC!  Apparently there are no time restrictions on planes here, and the flights continue in the dead of night.  The volume of the plane engines seems considerably louder here as well.

On the 29th Dan started work.  Friday is African shirt day at the office, but Dan doesn’t have one yet.  Maybe by next week.  Meanwhile the officemate’s husband showed me the neighborhood and introduced me to a few other spouses.  We had excellent cappuccino and croissants at Patisserie Vasili.

Later one of Dan’s coworkers (a Louisiana native) had a jambalaya party, to which we were invited.  Met some more welcoming and friendly people.

Over the weekend, our social sponsor brought us to 2 fancy supermarkets and a vegetable stand.  The supermarkets contain just about anything we might expect in a US supermarket, but the imported items are ridiculously expensive.  For example, a box of Kix cereal costs $10!  Fortunately, locally made staples such as bread and pasta are reasonably priced.

Went to another party, this time an Oktoberfest celebration.  Two parties in two days; not bad.  Met even more nice people.

Dan’s supervisor and his family invited us out to breakfast the next day.  His wife’s into beads (a kindred spirit!), so I look forward to spending more time with her and learning about Accra’s best bead markets.  The cutie kids eventually warmed up to us and told us about a recent trip they took.

They loaned us their second car, affectionately known as “Kwame the Love Bug” for the day.  We explored a totally different part of Accra with our next-door neighbor, J., another coworker of Dan’s.  We saw one of Accra’s landmarks, Independence Square, a Soviet-style concrete gathering area with large arch, totally devoid of human activity of any kind.  Odd because all the other parts of town seem to be full of people. Some street scenes:

Ever wonder what happens to the clothes you donate to Goodwill?

Drove into the Jamestown neighborhood, which has some colonial buildings and a lighthouse.  It’s a bit rundown, but we kept going anyway. 

Soon we were driving alongside a beach that is used as a garbage dump.  The stench was nearly unbearable.  Past there was a bustling shanty town.  While we didn’t see any stray dogs, there were plenty of goats around, mainly baby goats for some reason.  A bystander asked us, “Where are you going?  Are you lost?”  I wonder why he thought we looked out of place.

One of the highlights of the past few days was an African dance class, organized by M.  We met M. back in DC; she was the friend of one of my coworkers who just found out I was going to Accra.  She happened to be in DC for a couple of days and invited us over.  The dance class was quite a workout!  Plenty of jumping and vigorous torso and arm movements.  A group of drummers played as we danced.  It was invigorating and nothing at all like any dance class I’ve ever been to before.  The instructor, a Ghanaian man, seemed surprised when we didn’t pick up each new step instantly.  Nevertheless, he urged us to come back next week.  I think I’ll be there.

Last night we went to a dinner party at the home of Dan’s boss.  It was a welcome to the newcomers, not just us, but also a few others.  It was lovely.

Today Dan went on a trip for work.  He’ll be back tomorrow.

I took my first Ghanaian taxi today to the nicest internet cafe in town.  That’s where I am now.  I’m really looking forward to getting internet at home, but I’m not sure when that will take place.

Lots of shop signs feature pictures instead of words, in case the passerby can’t read. Mama Sledge’s Hair Studio sign has images of a hairstyles, a brush and styling gel of some sort:

Our house is nice.  It’s brand new, 2 stories, with tile floors.  The kitchen is big, as is the living/dining area.  They are lending us a TV and VCR till ours gets here.  We have the Armed Forces Network (AFN), which includes lots of US tv shows of all sorts, such as Jeopardy, David Letterman, the Simpsons, Law & Order, Dancing with the Stars, CNN, The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, etc.  It also includes some radio, so I’m able to listen to NPR.  Yay!  That makes a difference.

Some of you have asked us “What’s next?”  If this gig with the suit doesn’t work out, there is always  www.mongolrally.com

 The worst thing about coming home is taking care of all the niggly little things that have been piling up for months. I won’t whine about them here.  Give me a call if you like to hear people b* and moan. However, as I am digging through piles of papers looking for ‘this and that’ I come across this birthday card from the past. Funny thing is that more than one person has sent the same card to me.  I told you my sense of humor is quite sophisticated. Real highbrow stuff and those who know me are aware of it.  I think I will frame the card which is shown below. 

Another coinkidink- Giselle bought a pair of sandals from e-bay. Hold on, that’s not the coincidence part.  The seller is half of the VW Vagabonds. The who-what-now? Go to their web page at www.vwvagabonds.com.  They are a couple who were on the road for three years in a VW van and there are similarities to our journeys. They have many beautiful pictures on their site which is entertaining and informative.

Come on, that’s pretty random isn’t it?

I’m out of order? You’re out of order. This whole dang blog is out of order!  In any case, we have posted new photos going back to March 9 in the entry entitled El Bolson. Check them out.

The guanaco is an animal related to the llama. Lots of them live in Patagonia.

The photos blew me away. Get it? Ha, ha. Yes, my sense of humor has become quite sophistimacated. I think David Byrne of the Talking Heads said that the more one drives the more stupid one becomes. Having just completed a long-darn road trip, me can he no know what he is talking about. Me no more stupid than before.

 This plane picture is sort of random, but here it is.  It is in Chile along the Carretera Austral. We have no idea of its history.

 So it turns out the extra spare tires were not just for that rugged safari look. They actually came in quite handy.

We drove through here in March, but for those of you who have a thing against scrolling back through the blog, we have posted this out of order.  However, please scroll back through the blog to see newly added pictures.  I am looking at them and can’t believe how cool the stuff was that we saw.  Weird.   Few can deny Augusto Pinochet of Chile was a ruthless, bloody dictator; a megalomaniacal tyrant guilty of torturing and ‘disappearing’ dissenters. Somehow, while he was busy violating the human rights of Chileans, he found the energy for his government to build the Carretera Austral, a gravel road that connects the remote communities of the Chilean Patagonia.   Here’s a really tall alerce tree, once a bountiful species along the Carretera Austral, but now not so common, especially since alerce socks became all the rage in Chile. (Disclaimer: For any Chileans who may become upset by that lame attempt at humor, please, it is only a joke.)

Thanks to the Carretera, previously isolated settlements now had an overland connection to outside world.  Also part of the plan was to provide access to the forests, which could assist in the economic development of the country with increased logging activity. Fortunately, there are still a few trees left and even a national park or two.

Parque Nacional Quelat has a ‘hanging glacier’ that drops avalanches of snow and ice off the side of the mountain. Crash!

Giselle is sitting with Uwe of Germany whom we met in Parque Nacional Quelat.  He has lived permanently on the road since 1991 all around the world. This would be the vehicle for doing that!  It is (for me) a jaw-dropping combination of a 4X4 on serious steroids with a vignette from the Ikea catalog inside the cargo area of the truck.  My head was spinning with plans. Our little road trip suddenly seemed like a drive to the grocery store.

Here Giselle interacts with the local flora. Giant rhubarb for giant rhubarb pies.

A couple of trees were overlooked by loggers.

These Free Willy impersonators are on the prowl for some fatty snacks on the coast of Peninsula Valdes, Argentina. The sea lion is keeping a close eye on them.

They swim right up to the beach. Anyone care for a dip?

I am not sure they showed this in the movie (no, we didn’t actually see the move and don’t have any plans to), but they will swim towards the beach and lunge onto the sand and grab a pokey sea lion for lunch if they can.

Unfortunately, fortunately perhaps, we didn’t see this spectacle of nature.  Score one for the sea lions.

However, Giselle did have a close encounter with another ruthless predator; the much-feared picnic-crashing armadillo.

Evita and Juan Peron still have their followers.  Let’s see, you can get the lawn jockey, or the Perons.

Below is a milonga, a place where the locals come to tango.  These people could dance. We did not even get close to that dance floor, but it was still a lot of fun to watch these folks get their tango on.

Argentina’s National Park in Tierra del Fuego contains some nice trails, some through the woods. Just in case you had any doubts about Giselle and I being treehuggers…

This truck was in Bajo Caracoles- population 31.

We made it! Stay tuned for a mess of new pics.  We will have them up soon after we finish unpacking and getting our stuff in order.

Man, that´s a lot of street activity. With sketchy reports swirling around in our heads of a city overrun by robbery, murder, and mayhem, we crossed the border into Ciudad del Este, Paraguay. Obviously we survived, evidenced by this latest posting. When we entered Bolivia what seems like ages ago, we started hearing of a fabled city where anything goes- Ciudad del Este. ‘Do not find yourself in this place after dark!’ warnings were heaped upon us. Unfortunately, due to the impossibility of selling our ride in Argentina (there are laws against selling a car with foreign plates and a serious lack of flexibility in such laws not to mention our lack of desire of breaking such laws) we aimed the Explorer at the place with easiest reputation for transferring goods on the continent. After a lot of visiting car dealers we finally found a buyer and had the transfer done by a lawyer so everything is all legit. By the way, the city failed to live up to its dangerous rep, but there sure were a lot of people running around. The guy we hired to guide us calls it the ‘Hong Kong of Latin America’ and that pretty much sums it up.

We are off to Buenos Aires to look for a flight home.