Life in Ghana has started to slow down as I have settled into a normal routine at the University. All of my classes are now in full swing and I have the homework to prove it. Yet I continue to challenge myself to step outside of my box and try new things.

On Saturday, two of my friends and I hopped on a tro-tro headed for Madina market. The cost of the ride was 30 peswa- which is literally about twenty cents in the US. The ride was comfortable and not too crowded and we made it to the market in fifteen minutes. The market was absolutely crazy. Vendors lined up as far as the eye could see, women carrying items for sale on their head pushed past the masses of people walking through skinny dirt pathways. Just a clarification: vendors does not by any means imply that there are buildings or shops. A vendor at the Madina market consists of a small plot of dirt in which the owner lays all their items for sale either on a blanket on the ground or on a small table. While my two friends “shopped till they dropped” I scouted for the perfect African dress. I ended up purchasing a bright blue African print dress for twenty cedis. The print has dark African figures with bowls on their head intertwined with bright yellow baskets and some peacocks (I know a little hard to picture but it is beautiful!). At one point I could have sworn I felt someone tugging on my bag but I had followed all guidelines and brought a zipped up bag that I could keep my eye on. Unfortunately when one of my friends went to buy a dress she looked at me with wide eyes and said “where is my wallet?” Turns out she got pickpocketed in all the bustle of the market. Even the old market ladies said “Obruni! You get picked? You be careful, no put money in bag, hide in shirt or sock!” So at that point our moods had shifted but we still had to pick clothes up that my roommate had designed with a local seamstress. The seamstress’ house was similar to any in the US. Airconditioned with white tiles and family photographs adorning the walls. We were asked to remove our shoes as we entered the home which makes sense when I reflect because the place was clean of any speck of dirt. The seamstress did an incredible job on my friends clothes and I look forward to finding some fabric and getting some items made for myself one day.

After waking up at 5AM once again on Sunday, my roommate and I decided it was our time to check out church. Ariel (my roommate) had previously seen flyers for a church with a white pastor and she was obsessed with the idea of checking it out. So we took a taxi to the Mensvic Palace Hotel, the location of the Agape House New Testament Church we were to attend. When we walked into the hotel I almost forgot I was in Ghana because it resembled an upscale Marriot hotel with air conditioning and bathrooms that actually had toilet paper and soap! We were pretty hesitant when we walked into the large banquet room with hundreds of chairs lined up. All of the African people were dressed beyond nice- it basically looks like they are attending a wedding but they are wearing Africanwear- all African printed clothing. Thankfully, Ariel and I had stepped up our game and worn long dresses. As expected we were escorted to the very front of the church while the eyes of the Ghanaians watched our every move. Surprisingly, a few other foreigners shuffled in as we waited and gave us an acknowledging nod. Worship was incredible! Onstage was a live band and choir who danced the morning away. The songs were all upbeat and the crowd mimicked the drumming beat with the clap of their hands and the sway of their hips. In the middle of worship, a tall white guy walked in and started hopping up and down to the beat- definitely not an African style of dance. I figured that this must be the pastor. After some slower songs, this same guy walked up and took hold of the microphone introducing himself as the senior pastor…his name is Reverend Richard C. Whitcomb. He told all newcomers to stand up for an “Agape welcome.” The sermon was extremely interesting, focusing on the topic of relationships- it also helped because we had little fill in the blank cards like back at home. At one point he called up a family who was in mourning following the death of one of the fathers. This Ghanaian family, consisting of around 40 members, walked up in the traditional black, white, and red cloth worn in the traditional manner. Also, the Reverend called up 20 parents of adorable African babies who participated in a  “dedication” ceremony. The Agape Church believes that baptism should wait until children are old enough to decide that they want to follow Christ. Whatever preconceived notions I had about this Reverend before I walked into the church, he completely blew me out of the water and my views had drastically changed when I left. I was surprised to learn that Reverend Whitcomb has lived in Africa for half his life. He has 6 children, 2 were born in the US, 2 born in Nigeria, and 2 born in Ghana. The crowd erupted in laughter when he described how he has “two white Nigerian babies.” One of the most fascinating parts about Reverend Whitcomb is that he could speak a perfect Ghanaian accent and did so through most of his sermon. I assume this was to bridge the language gap but I was very surprised at how knowledgeable he is in general about Ghanaian culture. Ariel and I attended the first-timers meeting where we were given drinks and information about the church. I definitely think I will be attending more often!

I was supposed to meet with my advisor for my special study project on Friday morning. When I called him he said “I am in a meeting and will call you after.” At 4PM I assumed we weren’t meeting…until my phone rang and my advisor, Jasper, said “I am downstairs.” I gathered my things and ran across campus to the International Hostel, the dorm he thought I resided at. After discussing my project he explained that he wanted to show me the teaching site. So we drove to the house I will be teaching at in Madina. We had some extremely interesting conversations on our drive. Jasper works for an NGO that is raising awareness about AIDS in the Legon area. He asked me about how AIDS infected persons are perceived in America and explained how in Africa people with AIDS become social outcasts because people believe it to be contagious purely by shaking hands. I talked to him about how crazy the driving is in Ghana and he could not comprehend how orderly the highways are back in the US. He laughed and explained how he misses Britain (where he got his Masters) because he liked riding in the “underground tube.” One of the most ironic instances is when I asked him “if you could visit any country where would you go?” What was his answer? FINLAND! I could not believe it..usually my friends in America haven’t even heard of Finland! He explained that he met the nicest Finnish man while in Britain and he wants to visit him and see the country where the “days are dark for a long time and light for a long time.” I was dying with laughter inside. The teaching site is perfect and I finally have the details together to start teaching in a week.

CLASS:

I can barely understand anything in my Ghanaian History class. The older Ghanaian woman speaks very fast and has a thick accent. I never catch her jokes and when the whole class starts laughing at her witty comments I give a little confused smile which makes the Ghanaians closest to me laugh even harder.

I had my Black Diaspora class again. This time my American female professor was accompanied by the Head of the History Department. He lectured us for almost 2 hours on how we are a disgrace to the University and a disgrace to the country of Ghana. He made one Ghanaian boy who was texting stand up and come to the front of the class, write his name on the board and publicly humiliate him in front of his classmates. He followed by kicking him out of the class and calling him an embarrassment. The environment was super intense and now each one of the 200 students in our class have to write an apology letter to our professor…Great.

Sorry for the long update but there are a lot of little things going on here. On Friday I am heading back to the Cape Coast for the Cape Coast Festival where I will get to see the ritual of a cow being sacrificed (although my face will be hidden) so stay tuned!