Hallelujah! I survived my xylophone final. It was literally my worst exam ever in my career as a college exam, hard to believe but true. I woke up Monday morning at 5:55 AM and hurriedly got ready for my 7:00 AM final. My stomach was in knots because I was so nervous and had been the entire weekend. I walked down to the Music Department, taking the picturesque route, in order to refocus myself. My friend, Leslie, took a taxi down from Volta hall because she feared she was going to be late. What ended up happening? Well, we ended up sitting outside the xylophone room for a half hour until a random professor opened up the room so we could practice. What time did my xylophone teacher walk in at? 9:30AM. He strolls in with a big smile, failing to acknowledge the fact that he is two and a half hours late. Smooth. He rounded up the rest of the professors and began setting up the testing space. The panel came in and set up the judging table and my teacher informed me that I would be the first victim of the five people in my class. The other students were forced to leave the room and I was the lone wolf sitting behind my xylophone staring at the three male examiners- two Ghanaians and one German man. They instructed me to play two warm-up exercises then proceed with the three pieces we had learned in class (1. Bediako 2. Zoruaw Torime 3. Gandanyina). My hands were shaking like I was sixteen and taking my driving test (the second one after I had failed my first that is). Somehow, someway, I survived. I made a few errors but I did much better than I expected I would. Next came the question and answer portion. Now, this did not go as hot. I fumbled through my use of the native terms to describe the construction of the xylophone…or the “gyil” as it is called in the Upper West Region. I think the judges got a kick out of my pronunciation of the Ghanaian terms but I did my best despite their jeers. I walked out of the testing space and a HUGE weight was lifted off of my shoulders. I discovered macaroni and cheese at the grocery store and ate my first “cheesy” meal in months…It was soooo good! Learn a traditional Ghanaian instrument, check that off the list.
Happy (belated) Halloween! My Halloween was a little bitter-sweet considering I was recovering from malaria and could not eat any of the delicious food that was prepared for the big Halloween bash setup at the Dance Department. Nonetheless, my friends dragged me out of the room, dressed as a red “spicy salsa” Crayola crayon to attend the party my friend Carlin had organized. Walking through the streets down to the event was pretty hilarious because Ghanaians already stare at us every day but now that we were dressed in ridiculous outfits they would not break their gaze. The party was awesome- it was decorated with typical Halloween decorations all over and had a DJ who played all the latest Ghanaian hip life music as well as popular American jams. All of the international students dressed up and I saw one too many Ghanaians dressed as Michael Jackson. In the end, it was nice to bring a little America to Ghana and celebrate a holiday I love so much.
The other day I went with a group of my friends to the Culture Center in Accra. Since it was the weekend and tro-tros were packed, we had to split up. When three of us were still stuck at the station below campus and about to throw in the towel and bargain for a taxi one of our student guides walked up. Out of nowhere a bus pulls up with two of our other student guides...to the rescue! The driver let us hop on and escorted us downtown for free…I swear things here have the craziest ways of working out. The Culture Center was packed with vendors who were eager for the foreign customers. Rows and rows of jewelry, wood carvings, musical instruments, cloths, leather work, lined the outdoor market. The problem was we were hassled at every corner- people hissing at you and grabbing your hand constantly trying to drag you to their shop saying “don’t worry you can look for free.” One of the best items I spotted all day was a shirt with bold letters saying “Make fufu not war.” Fyi fufu is one of the traditional dishes here. I did some successful bargaining and headed back to campus drained from the day’s events. I ate some jollof rice, plantains, and pineapple from the night market with my friend Victor and crashed when I got back to my room.
Last night I took my friend, Acacia, into Osu for her birthday. We went to the Thai restaurant, Zion Thai, that I discovered a couple of months ago but have not returned to thus far. Acacia got the vegetarian pad Thai and I got the chicken red curry. I would have to say, it was my best meal thus far (and it wasn’t even Ghanaian food). Turns out the restaurants is owned by a Ghanaian man and his wife from Thailand. After, we went to KFC- the first American chain restaurant in Ghana- and got vanilla ice cream cones…delicious. I have realized that my happiest moments surround good food, and this night was no different.
Random facts:
Ghanaians answer cell phones in class and professors do not care at all.
Ghanaian markets NEVER have exact change.
Restaurants on campus close at around 6PM leaving my late night cravings that I can usually satisfy at Silvergreens or Freebirds in Isla Vista, unresolved.
Four lizards have made their home above the door to my room. And a dragon fly the size of my hand has made it a habit to run into my window repeatedly.
Ghanaians do not understand how Americans can eat three meals a day; instead they eat one (sometimes two) large meals.
I am mentally used to only using my right hand now. I purposely will switch a water bottle into my left hand in order to greet someone and ALWAYS pay and receive money with my right.
America= Obamaland.
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