Flight, British Airways, Feb 18th, JFK, Heathrow, Accra

Watching "I'm Not There" on the little screen
Over the Atlantic somewhere near Iceland
Via Heathrow, Layover,
Listening to Amadou and Marium from Mali
over Europe, their song "Sabali", I play
again and again flying though
my knees are bent and cramped and my
elbows confined and tucked.

Over the Sahara, I listen to Geoffrey Gurramal
Yunupinga, Austrailian, blind, sings in English
and Yolinga, earthy, gentle, sky,

floating towards Accra

Arrive in Accra an hour late at 10pm. No problems
with customs, they stamp my visa, give me 60 days,
and wave me through to the taxi drivers.

I look for Sumaila. He's the nuns' personal taxi
driver and he will pick me up. I walk through
looking. Many faces and dark. He shows up and
we walk to his taxi aided by a couple others.

I need Cedis and we go to hotel which is closed.
We drive through Nima, the Moslem neighborhood
where there's a black market. I can get Cedis here.

Bustling, people all about, people sleeping in rows
on the sidewalk. We stop and our car is surrounded.
Men with wads of money negotiate with me and Sumaila.
Hands reaching in the car, arguing, we get a good deal
and drive on.

Looking for a place in my book but it's too late and
Asylum Down is quiet with no one answering.
We drive to the Univeristy. Sumaila knows this area.
The Univ. housing is quiet and now one about. It's past
midnight and lots of chattering like a party.
I ask and find out they are charismatics and they're up all night
praying. We go to a couple other places and finally get to the
Olivegarden Guesthouse where I can crash. I thank Sumaila for driving
me around and give him what seems to be a good fare.

2/20/09 Friday. I go for a walk and say "hi" to people on a dirt road.
I pass a hair salon where several students are learning how to be hair dressers. I see they sell Guinness and stop for a drink. It's Guinness Malta, a non-alcoholic drink that's very hoppy. It tastes healthy. I talk to the hair dressers and ask them if it's alright to take pictures because the hair style is very cool. The teacher is braiding a woman's hair and the braids are going horizontally around the woman's head. They all laugh and the woman getting her hair done gives me the okay. My first photos in Ghana.

2/21/09 Saturday. I meet the nuns. They have a priest also visiting and I'm invited by Sr. Elizabeth to The Orthopedic Treatment Center an hour north of Accra. We plan on the following Thursday. The nuns are School Sisters of Nortre Dame. My mother went to Good Counsel Academy and is friends with their friends. My uncle also told me about them.

Saturday night, Mr. Fudzie and I go to a Baptism party at his friend's house. His friend used to run the prison just north of Accra and is now retired. They live in a large house with a large yard.

Many of the houses in the neighborhood are very big, equivalent to the McMansions going up in the States. Some of the people in the neighborhood actually live in Europe and the States and are having the houses built from the money they're making there.

Mr. Fudzie and his friend joke, "Last Stop!" they say to each other. "Last Stop" is used when you want to get off at the next stop on a bus or tro-tro. In this case, their last stop, retirement, is a nice house to relax in! We drink Star beer, and eat a buffet of redred (beans and plantains).

2/22/09, Sunday. We go to Mr. Fudzie's church, St. Thomas More Catcholic Church. It used to be an armory and is in Achimota, near the golf course and Achimota school, considered the best high school in the country. Mrs. Fudzie and Judith go to a Presbyterian church in their old neighborhood near Kaneshie market.

The choir is fun to watch. They wear graduation outfits with tassled graduation hats. The organist has drum beats playing and the choir wave white hankerchiefs as they sway and sing. Besides the music, the mass is mostly the same as anywhere else I've been.

After church, we went to the Social Club, long tables toghether with Mr. Fudzie's friends who belong to a fitness club. Everyone was drinking beer and eating and having a good time after a morning of working out.

For lunch today, we ate oxtail and fish soup poured over a mushed rice ball. It was delicious. We also drank some strawberry wine from Chile.

In the afternoon, we drive an hour or so north near Dodowa to drop off Mr. Fudzie's friend's daughter who is going to a Christian boarding school. The daughter's name is Afia and she is in high school. I sit next to her 8yr. old brother who is Anthony Junior. He asks me to call him Junior and he asks lots of questions about the U.S. as we drive. Four yr. old Judith is also along and she's in between Afia and junior.

Mr. Fudzie and his friend are up front as Mr. Fudzie speeds up, slows down, and swerves a lot to avoid the large ruts and potholes caused by the heavy rains. His friend is in a high up position in the highway dept.

On the way, Judith gets sick and vomits on her skirt, Afia's dress, and Afia's bag.
Everybody gets out of the car and Afia get water to clean her dress and the dads clean off Judith and the car. No big fuss, not a lot of talk. I like that.

Junior decides this is good time to get his photo taken. I agree and snap a couple photos of him. When we get back in the car, Junior tries to keep his distance from Judith and diverts her away several times.