The Obrouni Show

Sup my internet family. I feel that I am just starting to get into a little rhythm here in Ghanana, and of course I have some new stories to tell. Everyday strange things happen that would blow your mind, but I guess I am getting used to them and feel pretty comfortable with the idea of living in Ghana and often being the only white person around.

It is now November, which means that I have been away from home for a little over 4 months. Yes, I miss everyone back home. I have been hard at work trying to take control of my mess of a radio station, and the work is finally starting to show. This past month was the first time that we have finished with a profit and a substantial one. I still think things could be better, but at least things are going in the right direction. Just last week, we did a joint program with the Ghana AIDS Commission. I worked with them to put on a peer educator training program for the radio presenters so they could be informed and tell people about the risks of HIV/AIDS over the amazing radio machine. The program turned out to be an awkward 4 hours of sex education. The lecturer they brought down spent most of the time with a wooden phallus that he would use to point at things on his power point and wave around with every hand gesture. The information was good, but nothing I hadn’t heard before and some of the questions that my staff asked were a little alarming: “I have a friend who says that expensive condoms break more easily than cheap ones, is this true?” “I have a friend whose girl will not allow him to have sex until his financial situation improves, how does he get her to have sex with him?” Pretty good stuff. The most entertaining part of the program was the condom demonstration. The lecturer would call up one guy and one girl to demonstrate on the wooden phallus. I was selected along with one of the reporter girls to show the group how it is done. I had the easy part of holding the phallus in an atomically accurate position while the reporter girl opened the condom and forced it over the wooden figure with such force that it broke the condom. We failed the condom demonstration. Anyway, the lecturer showed the group the appropriate way to get it done, and now everyone is much more educated on the risks of HIV/AIDS.

In other news my visa to stay in Ghana has expired. A couple weeks ago I went to the Ghana Immigration Office in Cape Coast to request an extension. My boss assured me that this would be an easy process. I filled out the papers and gave them to the immigration officer with a letter from my boss requesting that I get an extension. After a 15 minute wait in the immigration office, I got called back to meet with the big boss. He asked me a lot of questions about why I came to Ghana and why I wanted to stay longer. The problem is that my status in Ghana is a little shady. I am no longer a student and I get to stay at the most ballin' beach resort for free, plus the political thing with the Dr. It just looks shady. After the questioning he gets on the phone with my programs manager and talks to him in Twi but I can here some words that don’t sound good to me. After the phone call the immigration officer just sits there and says nothing for an uncomfortable amount of time, and then calls in another immigration officer who is a huge man. He could easily snap me in half and sits down in the chair next to me. The two immigration officers start talking in a language I don’t understand, for what felt like half an hour but I’m sure was less, while I sweat it out thinking that they are gonna throw me in jail or worse kick me out of the country. In the end though they let me go and said to be back in 2 weeks to pick up my passport with the visa extension. I’m still not sure what happened, but it seems to have been all worked out.

In other news, I have my own radio show on Fridays from seven to eight and it is becoming a small success. Every week I choose a new artist to feature on the show and just play my favorite songs from the artist for an hour and read a little bio I get off of Wikipedia. This last Friday I played all Jay-Z tracks, so it was super fresh. I also, for the first time, opened up the phone lines for people to call in, and they actually did. People said that they loved the show and requested their favorite Jigga songs. It was cool. Next week I’m focusing on Nas and then probably Kanye. Any suggestions please feel free. I’m also gonna see if I can record the show and put it on the information super highway for those that want to hear what DJ-Go sounds like on the radio. That is my radio name “DJ-Go” it is like J-Go, but for disc jockeys.

Those are the updates for this post. I think I’m gonna go up to the north with the Dr. and set up a pirate radio station for the next presidential debate. I'm sure to run into some adventures. Tonight the resort has a live band and a bon fire on the beach so I'm gonna go catch the show. Wish you were here? I do! 3 more months untill I’m home. Go Ducks!

The Adventures of Nick and Betsy Continued

Continuing the adventures of Nick and Betsy in Ghana, we made it down to my beach resort in Elmina. They were quite impressed to say the least about the place that I was living. I gave them the tour of the place, showing them the beach, pool, crocodile pond, golf course… and got them a room. We went for a swim and kicked it pool side for a bit. I showed them off to my co-workers at Ahomka, and everyone seemed to be having a grand time. They had a good time handing out crayons and candy to the begging children and doing the touristy stuff around Elmina and Cape Coast while I spent some time making sure the radio station was running.

Many changes were occurring while my friends were in town. I was moving from the African Village to the resort proper. I was moving into a small dorm sized room near the tennis court (and horse stables). I considered this a vast improvement in my living situation. The African Village was cool and quiet away from everything and I had a lot of room, but the shower didn’t have hot water and there were other problems with the African Village that I could have lived with fine, but the move to inside the resort was just better. I have less room now, but I have hot water, more furniture and am closer to everything. It is pretty posh. Another change was the hiring of new security guards. The old security guards were great and reliable. That is to say great and reliable at sleeping. I rarely saw the old security guards awake. As far as I know they came to work, pulled up a chair and passed out till their shift was over. The new security guards were so stoaked to be working they took to the resort with the zeal of someone on the first day of a new job. They checked every car that came in and out of the resort and patrolled the grounds all the time. They even patrolled the dinning room. That was a little unnecessary. They also have super official uniforms and carry night sticks with them at the ready. Whenever I pass these new security guards they stand at attention and salute me. It is a pretty cool feeling to be saluted.

Anyway, my friends were more then happy to spend the rest of their time at the resort, but also wanted to see some more of the country. I had heard from the PCV’s I hung out with in Mali about a beach resort in Ghana that they talked about like it was Eden, The Green Turtle Lodge. I suggested we check it out. It is located near Dix Cove that is on the way to Cote D’ivorre. After some confusing text message reservations were made we took a trip down to stay for two nights. The ride down was an adventure in itself as traveling in Ghana is. We took four different tro tro’s that took us close to 5 hours to get to this resort. It was in the middle of the bush and the road leading to it was less then well kept, a lot less. When we finally arrived at the Green Turtle it was truly incredible just as my PCV friends had said. It was the kind of place you felt weird wearing tennis shoes and even flip flops were not necessary. It was right on the beach and was set up with bungalows and plenty of activities that you could sign up to do. You didn’t need to carry any money on you. Whenever you wanted a drink or ordered from the menu that changed everyday you just told them your name and paid the bill at the end. We got ourselves a 3 person bungalow for the first night, and the rates were stupid cheap for what we were getting. Everyone there seemed to be a German working in some medical capacity. I don’t know if this was the norm at the Green Turtle but at least for the time we were there the only people I met that weren’t German was an Aussie guy named Ing and this cute British girls whose name I don’t remember.

That night after eating a bomb meal and enjoying some happy hour cocktails we signed up to go on a turtle rescue night hike. Pretty much we just walked along the beach for an hour on the look out for turtles. We didn’t see any turtles, but after 45 minutes of walking one of the guides pointed to a pile of sand and said that there were sea turtle eggs buried under it. I’m pretty sure he just got tired of walking and didn’t want us to feel like this was a big waste of time. We got a discount cause we didn’t see any turtles, but it was a cool walk anyway and we got some education on turtle preservation.

The next morning I was sufficiently hung over, but we decided that we needed to get up at 6 in the morning to go on a canoe trip trough a lagoon to look for monkeys. I protested, bitched and complained that it was way too early and that the monkeys would all be asleep, but they convinced us that it was the best time to go. So we walked down the beach and ran into the tour guide. It was the three of us, the British girl and a German pharmacist couple. The tour guide literally took the two Germans and carried them on his back into the canoe. It was quite a site, but I said I would just walk into the water and hop in myself, but thanks. The canoe trip went through some sweet mangroves that reached into the lagoon with theses long straw like roots to suck up the water. It was beautiful, and just the sort of thing you think you would do if you were to tour Africa. We saw some crabs, a salamander, some birds, and a huge bee hive, but of course no monkeys. It just wasn’t in the cards. Anyway we did run into a little luck as it started to rain just as our canoe trip ended. We spent the rest of the day doing some much needed chilling and resting. Betsy and Nick, made weak by their air conditioned rooms at the coconut grove, felt the bungalow was too hot and decided to move to the tent area. The tent area is just what it sounds like a bunch of tents that they put under this large roof to protect them from the rain. I got put up in the dorm that housed about 8 people and was pretty nice and even cheaper then the private bungalow. That night was a Thursday and apparently the lobster special night. They had lobster for ten cedis, and that is a price you just don’t say no to. So after some delicious lobster, all the food was bomb, we had some more drinks with our Aussie friend Ing and the Germans. We played some cool drinking games and the waves of the ocean were glowing. They were actually glowing green, and not from the moon. It was a florescent green glow whenever the waves would crash. Ing, who had been at the turtle for a very long time, told us that it was the plankton that made the ocean glow, it was pretty sweet. If you didn’t know I love light shows.

The next morning I got all packed up to head out and back to Elmina cause I had a radio station to run. Betsy and Nick liked the Green Turtle so much they decided to stay another night and meet me in Elmina cause they didn’t have a radio station to run. So I packed up, settled some bills and walked out. Like I said this place was in the middle of nowhere so there wasn’t too much traffic to get back to civilization. Tro tros did go up and down the road but they were rare, so I thought the best course of action was to hike the 9 km to the nearest town where there would be tro tros. So I headed out alone on this road through the bush for a long hike, very long, where I was sure that I would run into a tro tro and catch a ride the rest of the way. It was pretty amazing though. I passed small villages and the children were ,of course stoaked to see an obrouni, screaming out to me for a wave and a smile. The scenery was impressive with the ocean on my right and the dense forest all around me. I was about an hour into this hike when I passed this small village were I caught the eye of a Ghanaian who looked in his late 30’s. I made eye contact and he started towards me. I tensed up as I saw he was carrying a machete. Dark thoughts of this man slicing my head off and taking my backpack ran through my head. I had one defense on my side and that was to say “Good morning.” Everyone I passed I said Good morning too just to ease my fears of being all by myself and getting robbed. The man returned the greeting and my fears were suppressed. He decided to accompany me on the walk for a little ways. He asked me questions about the US and told me about a resort that he was starting up and I felt stupid for fearing for my life. He was just another overly nice Ghanaian. After about 20 minutes we reached were he was building his resort and I asked him if I was close to the nearest town where I could catch a tro tro back to Elmina. He told me that tro tros don’t come to often and that I was about 45 minutes to the nearest town. So I asked him if there was a chance that I would catch one coming from the other way. He said “By Gods Grace” and then left. So I continued my walk up hills and was pretty sweaty and tired after almost 2 hours of walking. Then a tro tro came barreling from behind. I waved for them to stop and they did. As I approached the tro I saw that not only was it filled, but they had people sitting on top of each other. The tro tro mate told me that I could climb on top. I didn’t even question it. I just climbed up the side of the tro and the mate told me to hold on tight. I sat atop spare tires and sacks of cassava holding onto the metal rack for my life as the tro tro maneuvered over the rough terrain. It was all too much. I was riding on top of the tro tro with the wind blowing, looking out over the bush and waving to children as we passed small villages. After about twenty minutes the tro stopped and let someone out and I was able to join the people inside for the rest of the journey. It was pretty cool.

After a couple more tros and 5 hours I was back in Elmina. I went to the radio station only to find out that a different radio station that we were borrowing our exciter from needed it back so we had been off the air for the entire time I was gone. This was not a good thing. So we ordered a new exciter and antenna and in the mean time arranged to rent one while we waited for the new exciter to arrive from Holland. The next day Betsy and Nick made it back with a less daring story. They hitched a ride with the owner of the resort and took a taxi with Ing and then a tro back to Elmina. To each their own. We spent a couple more days in Elmina and then headed back to Accra for a couple days before my friends had to head back to the good old US and A.

We got set up at the Regency again and this time we were put on the top floor of the hotel. It was probably eight or nine stories up with no elevator, and the view was amazing. Anyway, when it was time for them to go I arranged a ride and dropped them off at the airport. I went back to the Regency to rest and within a couple of hours the two were back. Nick turned 22 while in Ghana and apparently the cut off date for free family flights from United was 21. So they spent another night in Accra while Nick sorted out his ticket and the next day they were gone for real. I’m sure he was freaking out about having to stay in Africa forever cause he is the worrying type. That night though was salsa night at the Regency so there was big party with salsa dancers and a great send off for my buddies.

The night after they left I stayed in Accra for another night so that I could pick up my car. Ya, I got a car. It is a green Fiat and it runs like shiat. I took it to the mechanic and he couldn’t get it working so I decided to just hitch a ride with my boss who was leaving the next day. That night though Lankesha, my boss, asked if I wanted coffee after dinner. I have learned that when Lankesha drinks coffee at night it means we will be up for awhile and an adventure is sure to ensue. He had a mission for me. He took me and three other Ghanaians late at night to go postering for the Dr. He let me drive the Dr. Mobile. This one was a turbo diesel truck and was a beast. So I drove all of us around Accra in the middle of the night as we stopped by high traffic areas and did some guerilla postering. It was pretty sweet.

All right, this one got super long. I’m getting you caught up. If anything is confusing give me a holler. If things aren’t confusing give me a holler anyway I’d love to hear from you. Go Ducks!

The Fighting Ducks From Mighty Oregon

Some things must be addressed before I get into this next story. The previous post has brought forth many questions and concerns. I just want to say that I am healthy, happy and escaped the incident without any injuries. I feel just a safe in Ghana as I would in any other country in the world. I had no idea the intentions of the taxi driver at the time, but I wasn’t about to sit in the taxi and find out so I got out a little early. The next night when I went to the reception, the night manager asked me if I knew about a taxi driver who had come to the office the night before looking for an obrouni to pay him. The taxi driver told the night manager that he drove me to junction but got scared and wanted to ask someone in town where the coconut grove was, so he turned around and that is when I jumped out. The night manager covered for me and said he had no idea what that cabby was talking about. I hope that clears up any confusion or concerns. If not, your just gonna have to deal with it.

Another point I feel needs to be addressed is my dear older brother. He has started his own blog documenting his adventures in London town to try to steal away my adoring readers. Do not be fooled by the blog’s cool hip look or the nearly everyday new posts, and go read his blog instead of mine. Although if you do not get enough Gordon bloging please feel free to read his between my posts, just remember who had a blog first. www.heygordon.blogspot.com . Also, something I’d like to point about. I love my parents very much and think they have done a kick ass job raising myself and my older brother, but something must have gone terribly wrong along the way. I wonder why both of their children feel the need not just to leave the home but to travel to different countries to get away from them. I guess when I said I didn’t want to eat my vegetables, I meant it. Just Joshin, can’t wait to get home and moochie moochie moochie.

Now that that is out of the way, almost a month ago now I had a couple of visitors to witness for themselves the ballerness of my life in Ghana. And yes, they were indeed fighting ducks from mighty Oregon. My buddies, Nick and Betsy, who I lived in the dorms with had some free time and wanted to visit their old buddy… me. Nick’s momma (Sup Joy) works for United or some airline so he gets to fly for free and Betsy has no problem with using her friends for personal gains such as a buddy pass to Ghana. So I made my way to Accra and got a room at the Regency, one of the sister resorts of the Coconut Grove Hotels, and set us up in one of the baler suites. What can I say? It was baller. Anyway, I went to the airport to pick them up and waited for a good hour for them to finally get out. Once they got off and after we exchanged pleasantries and argued with some cab drivers about a fair price, they already had a story for me while on the plane. I guess little Miss Betsy was so overcome with joy that she was gonna meet up with her long time secret crush (me) that she had a little panic attack about 30,000 feet above the Atlantic ocean. Super embarrassing. According to Nick, she was hyperventilating, crying, and all the crazy good stuff that crazy people do when they freak out. Luckily she composed herself and touched down in Accra, where my fearless companions would face Africa.

So after the long flight my compadres were quite pooped out to elegantly put it so they passed out for like 6 hours while I played with the toys that they brought from the land of the free home of the brave. They brought me starburst, Oreos, my compy, a camera, Blublockers, bug spray and other cool stuff. It was like Hanukah but with red red instead of latkes (red red: Ghanaian bean dish with this red sauce, it’s pretty bomb). Thanks to the momma and friends for all the cool new toys.

Later that night we enjoyed some of the Accra night life. I took them out to this fancy Italian restaurant, Mama Mia, so I could get some pizza. Then we headed to Bywel. Bywel is this cool outdoor bar that has this killer Jazz band play on Thursday nights. So we got our drinks on and boogied on down. We met up with those kids who live in my old house in Accra again, and once again most of them bitched out and the Michigan girl was the only one left to rage with us. So we headed to Epo, a bar that never closes, and eventually crashed back at the hotel.

The next morning we mostly just went on errands that I had to run in Accra. We went to the US Embassy, but it was closed? How can you close an Embassy? I showed them the University of Ghana, and my old house, Wazzu (the best bar in the world), Peace FM. It was there first full day in Ghana, but they took to riding the tro tros and dealing with the heat as well as expected.

We only spent a couple of days in Accra; I tried to show them around as best as I could. We went to the Art center that is a huge tourist trap were we were hassled by Rastas and paid too much for crappy souvenirs. Another errand I made them go on with me was to meet this Aussie guy, Pat. Pat works for one of the Advertising firms in Accra. One of my roomies from the study abroad program had his internship with him and got us in touch. I went there to gain some advice on how to get more adverts for my radio station. He had us meet him at Tuwallah beach. It is an amazing beach in Ghana with chill bartenders and plenty of places to roam around, so it wasn’t like I was dragging Betsy and Nick to just some stuffy office. Anyway, I told Pat my story of why I am still in Ghana while he drank Stars like they were nothing. He thought my story was the most hilarious thing. I kind of was hoping that he would just hand me a bag of money with some jingles and tell me to go nuts, but my little radio station just isn’t quite up to the level of his advertising agency. He said he would keep his eyes open for me though, and gave me some good advice about how to manage in Ghana, and to not take it too seriously, because the fact that I was brought in to manage a radio station without any kind of experience or idea of what I’m doing just goes to show you how messed up the station was before I got here. Therefore even if I make small improvements it will be better than it was.

That night, at least I think it was that night, we went to one of my favorite restaurants in Ghana, Chez Afrique. You can get your freak on at Chez Afrique. It is owned by Dr. William’s wife (Dr. Williams runs the Aye Center that was in charge of assigning internships to my study abroad group). They have really good Ghanaian dishes and live music on Saturday nights. This was Nick and Betsy’s first bite into Ghanaian food so I started them off slow with red red and jollof rice. They liked it just fine, Betsy especially. While we were walking out of Chez Afrique, I showed them some of the neighbor’s houses. East Legon, the neighborhood where the restaurant and where my old house was, is like the Scottsdale of Ghana. It is the super fancy suburbs, but you can still tell you are in Africa. Anyway the house next door to Chez Afreaky, is owned by the owner of Peace FM. I never met the guy, but his house is incredible. It is a mansion, with huge gates and quite impressive. So as the three of us were walking by the Peace FM house I was telling them to watch out for the Ghana holes. Ghana holes, are holes in Ghana that can appear at any moment to try and take you down to the depths below. There are also open sewers everywhere so you have to watch your step or you’ll find yourself falling into a hole with no end or into something wet and gross. Right after telling my friends of the perils of Ghana holes, Nick takes one look too many at the Peace FM house and eats shit into a Ghana open sewer. He rolled out of it gracefully but was bleeding pretty bad from the toe, and would continue to ask Betsy and me to look at his gross toe throughout the trip. That Saturday we headed down to Elmina with my boss Lankesha, so they could see how I was living Beach side…

So I guess I’ll give you more about our adventures next time. I hope I cleared up some questions. I miss everyone, and hope you all are doing well. I tried to upload some photos to make my blog fancy like David’s but the internet in Ghana is wicked slow so I’ve been sitting here for an hour and only one photo is done, maybe next time. To be continued…

Momma won't like this one

October? Really? Well, no time to doddle. Continuing with the saga of Josh in Ghana, I left Accra after a few days recovering from my West Africa tour. I was glad to be back in Ghana where they speak a similar language that they call English. I took a ride down with my boss Lankesha to my new residence the Coconut Grove Beach Resort in Elmina. Elmina is the business. Accra is a massive city with too many people and poor roads. Elmina is a sweet little beach town with boats that come through the lagoon, and a lot less people. It still has crap roads, but that is just the style of Ghana. The beach resort is paradise. It has played host to many famous people on holiday: Kofi Anan, British High Commission, Queen of Holland, John Kufuor, Leslie Steeves, the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and others. The cheapest rooms go for about 90 cedis a night (90 dollars). However, I was put up in what they call the “African Village”. The African Village isn’t really a village at all. It is just a small to house off the 18^th hole green about 50 yards from the actual resort but still considered the Coconut Grove property. From the outside it looks like a mud hut, because it is a mud hut. The walls are made of mud and the roof is covered in old palm fawns. The inside though is a little nicer. It has cement floors with a rug and a sweet queen size bed that is really the only significant piece of furniture in the place. Although, the bed is a lovely piece of furniture. It was also adjacent to an actual African Village that would use the 18^th hole water hazard to wash their clothes. Often the little African taunt alas (children) would run and gather around me asking me for biscuits and money. It was cute for the first week but after awhile it drained me to say no to all these cute faces. Although I am guilty of giving free things to cute children; I am against this type of philanthropy. It just teaches them to be beggars. So for the first month I pretty much just watched and tried to get a handle on the job that I had agreed to try to do. I have made many friends at the radio station and love my life at the beach resort.

All right so before I end this weak post, I’ll give you guys one of the best stories that has happened to me while in Ghana not to mention my life. So in the 1^st or 2^nd week of September, Cape Coast, a large city about a 15 minute drive from the resort, has a festival. I think it has something to do with fishing, but I could have made that up. The ten day festival is a huge party for Elmina and Cape Coast. There was a regatta and parades and all around merriment. The Friday of the festival I went with Dr. Nduom and his crew to a small get together in Cape Coast to present one of the chiefs with some gifts. At least that was how the event was explained to me. I took a ride with some Team Nduom members in one of the Dr. Mobiles to this park about the size of a High School gym, but looks nothing like a high school gym. Anyway the Dr. Mobile was part of a motorcade behind the Dr. himself in his 4 Runner. We stopped at Jubilee Park, a massive outdoor convention center thing, which is about a ten minute walk to where the ceremony was being held. There we were met by a parade of CPP loyalists dancing and singing with a band all excited for the event. When the Dr. popped his head out of the sun roof of the car the place the people surrounded him trying to take pictures and shake his hand. Also to great the Dr. was a bull with a CPP flag tied around his impressive horns. They had the bull’s front and back legs tied to long ropes and began to lead the parade the ten minutes to the ceremony with the bull charging at women and small children. Whenever the bull would start to charge they would pull on the ropes and the bull would eat shit, but sometimes it got real close. My other boss, Lankesha, gave me a camera and let me play photog for the event. At the ceremony they talked in Twi for a bit and the different people presented their gifts to the chief. We were the only ones to bring a bull. We also presented to the chief a gwap of cash, and a bunch of soda. Other people brought loads of booze that they had pretty Ghanaian girls carry in on their heads, as is the preferred way to carry things here. After the presentation of gifts we bounced and paraded back to the resort where I rested up for the final day of the festival were there was a huge party at the Jubilee Park.

The parade from the day before looked like a turkey trot compared to the next days activities. They had chiefs in these canoes like things being carried through the streets with thousands of Ghanaians waving flags and having a merry ol’ time. Behind the chiefs were men with huge drums they were carrying on their heads while others pounded on them with mallets. As I got lost in the hordes I kept one hand on the camera (I was asked to play photog again) and the other on my wallet. While stuck in a bottle neck I felt this Ghanaian leaning against me uncomfortably and I tried to move away but he kept creeping closer. I saw the whole incident happen before it actually did. The kid leaning against me had a towel wrapped over his arm that was closest to me. He signaled to his fellow crony and I saw him walk briskly towards me then the crony gave me bump on the left shoulder making me turn and I felt man with a towel in his hand reach into my pocket. He tried to get away but I grabbed him and he dropped my phone and acted like he didn’t know how it got into his hand. Shady Business. Instantly a couple Ghanaians came up to me and said, "Obrouni, you must be careful" Thanks. We finally arrived to our section of the grand stands at Jubilee Park. Security was tight but I just walked right in with the doctor and his security personnel. I roamed around in the middle of the park snappin photos of anything and everything. There was a hug group of CPP members over in our grandstands and then next to us a bunch of NDC members (one of the two major parties in parliament). Then Atta Mills the NDC flag bearer (presidential candidate) came with his posse and everyone made this big deal about how the NDC stole out silent cheer of rolling our fists forward. It is all ridiculous and I’ll explain it better latter. Anyway, when they got the chiefs out of their canoes they were presented with more gifts and then a huge motorcade came into the middle of the ceremony and stops right by our grandstand. Security people with huge guns run out and start directing people as the mood of the event feels like that moment right before you surface from a pool after holding your breath for as long as you possibly can. Then John Kufuor, president of Ghana, steps out and the place goes bonkers. Kufuor made his rounds shaking hands with the chiefs and the Dr. and Atta Mills. He walked right by me as I tried to snap some photos but his giant security men with huge guns were pushing people out of the way, and I couldn’t get a good shot. Kufuor made a speech and cruised out with his motorcade of 10 SUVs it was all quite incredible and ridiculous. Then I left the festival in one of the Nduom Mobiles following another parade of CPP members yelling “Yesersem” and the such until finally returning to the resort.

That night I planned to have a quiet night at the resort and rest from the madness. I went to the restaurant and ordered myself a pepper steak with chips and a large star. Mandy, a black wiener dog that lives at the resort and gets treated like a princess, was out enjoying her evening walk when a hansom young Ghanaian walked by that looked just like my friend Sonny. Sonny works for the Aye Center that was in charge of getting my study abroad group our internships. He also brought us to the Ghana vs. Gabon football match, the Volta region and Mole, so I know him pretty well. When I looked again it was the crazy bastard himself. He had brought a group of 8 Obrounis to the Coconut Grove for dinner after they had been touring the castles, canopy walk and Hans cottage package tour (disregard what you don’t understand). So I joined the 8 kids mostly from Oregon and Michigan (No ducks though Buck the Feavers!) They now live in my old house in Accra. Only 8 of them though instead of the 13 of us that crammed in their for 6 weeks. They had 7 girls and one poor bro. After telling some stories at the grove they were heading back to cape coast to go rage. I never give up an opportunity to rage with Sonny so of course I went with them. When we got back to their hotel in Cape Coast 7 of the kids became party poopers and decided to stay in, super lame. So it was just I, Sonny and this wild girl from Michigan. I was very disappointed with the showing from the new kids living at my old home. Anyway we went out to Cape Coast and the three of us raged a bottle of vodka outside the Goil petrol station and then we started drinking. The streets were filled with people celebrating the final day of the Festival. We went to these sweet roadside bars kicking back some Star beers. Then some crazy Ghanaian comes up to me yelling my name. Through my wobbled vision I recognize who it is…. Kelly! For those who don't remember or are new to the blog, Kelly was the guy I met on the side of the road when I was lost in Labone on the 4^th of July and decided to come out with us for the night. It was incredible. Through the madness of the night I lost Kelly and the three of us went to this state funded outdoor rave. The crazy Michigan girl was getting a lot of attention with her dancing. There was literally a circle of people around us just staring so I went to the bar and had another beer. At this time I’m pretty drunk as I sometimes get after having a few beers. The rest of the night gets shady.

I got a call from Kelly at like 4 in the morning to come by his place at the University Of Cape Coast. So I convinced Sonny and Michigan to come to the University of Cape Coast and kick it with Kelly. So they get a cab with me and we go deep into the depths of the UCC. Once there they decide to leave me with this guy that I told them I had only met once on the side of the road a couple months ago, but they leave anyway. Then I realize that I have no idea where I am and it’s 4 in the morning. Luckily Kelly once again takes care of me. We hike about a mile to hail a cab and Kelly sends me on my way. After awhile in the cab I realize that we have been driving in the wrong direction for about 15 minutes. The grove is not that far from the UCC so I yelled at the guy "Elmina" in the sluriest English I could make out. We turned around and drove another twenty minutes back to my neighborhood. This cabby had no idea where he was going so I led him all the way to the Coconut Grove junction that turns into a dirt road leading through a real African Village, past my ‘African Village’ and to the resort. We were about 2 minutes from the resort, safe. But this is Ghana so nothing is what it seems. After he makes the first right turn, he freaked out. He flipped the car around and started heading the other way. I sober up pretty quick and started screaming at the guy to stop but he just put the pedal to the floor and we were racing through the little village. I don’t know how fast we were going but the engine was sounded like a lions roar. We were about 20 yards from where the dirt turns into the main road back to the Chapel Square (Elmina city center). I popped open the car door and just thought to myself "Tuck and Roll, Tuck and Roll" and I bailed. I just jumped out of the moving vehicle and landed straight on my ass, no tucking no rolling. It really isn't as easy as it looks in the movies to jump out of a moving vehicle. So I booked it back to my mud hut just outside the property when I saw headlights coming from behind. It was close to 5 in the morning when I got back and I saw the taxi driver go up to the reception, So I give him two middle fingers that glimmered in the moonlight and headed back to my house locked the door and went to bed.

Now that’s a post.

I'm the biggest boss that you've seen thus far

Everytime I try to blog about something new I keep thinking about Mali. At the time I thought going to Mali was a terrible mistake. It just isn’t quite ready to fulfill my ragein. Never the less I guess it had a strong impression on me and looking back I always remember one more thing to let you in on. I remember complaining more there than any other country in West Africa. I was hot, thirsty, disgusted, had malaria and was dirty, but the people were nothing but friendly. Except for the tailor with a sick mustache that Emily F***ing Doerr yelled at for a good half hour while trying to get back her clothes that I don’t thinking ever got tailored. Anyway our last night in Kaye, Emily F***ing Doerr’s host mom had a cousin or sister or daughter, some kind of relative who was getting married the next day. So we were invited to the pre-party. It was kinda like a rehearsal dinner but also nothing at like a rehearsal dinner. When we arrived we were greeted by probably close to 40 old Malian ladies all decked out in there nicest African wears. They were old, like I had more teeth than all of them combined old and were just wild with excitement for the ‘Toobah boos’ to have arrived at their little party. We brought all the fixens for a traditional Malian meal, and greeted all the old ladies.

Our main dish for the affair was spaghetti rice. Krista blames spaghetti rice for all of her problems, but I think it is bomb like Bamako (so cheesy). They prepared it right there in front of use from scratch making the fires and mixing in all the food stuffs while we played with the little children running around. There were probably 80 people in the concession just sitting around chatting and having a merry ol time. Throughout the festivities there was a large goat that they were saving for the feast tomorrow. This goat was not pleased with his role in the celebration and made it known throughout the night screaming his big ugly goat head off. We pleaded with the host to just kill the goat now so it would shut up. No luck though, goat just aint the same unless it is killed the day of the wedding. By the time the meal was all prepared it had gotten dark. They pulled a TV outside for everyone to watch, and some people went inside to grub up. We sat around a huge bowl of spaghetti rice that is just rice with some macaroni and tomato sauce and im sure some other things, and we ate with our hands. After that we went back outside and chatted with some people letting them make fun of us for being Coulibalys. We also enjoyed some Malian tea as a dessert. It was real sweet but the best part was watching the ladies pour it into the tiny little tea cups lifting the teapot high above then dumping the tea back in the pot and doing it a few times to get bubbles on the top of the tea that you were supposed to avoid drinking. All very strange, but it was cool that these Malians just let us crash their party and serve us up some dank food. I could only imagine what a party the wedding would have been.

So skipping ahead to me in bed with the A/C on full blast and CNN international playing in the back ground, I had started to feel better after a day of the anti-malaria pills but was still really tired. I had little time to waste though since I was staying at this baller resort I had to figure out what my job would be. So I met with Lankesha for a meeting to clear up some of my questions. He pretty much told me that the he wanted me to manage this small community radio station in Elmina. Apparently, the old manager was stealing a bunch of money, doing inappropriate things with underage girls in the studio and doing an all around shit job. I told him that I have no experience being the manager of anything and my only experience in radio was the last 2 months as a reporter for Peace FM. He still thought I was perfect for the job. He paid for me to change my plane ticket to February and allows me to stay at the resorts for free with free meals and the best part of all free booze! It might sound too good to be true, but it’s pretty incredible. I’ve never heard of anyone landing a sweeter job straight out of college.

*Sidenote: My old man received my diploma in the mail about a week ago so I’m an official Univeristy of Oregon Alumnus. Go Ducks!

A college graduate with access to free food and booze. Although that might seem like enough, of course there is more. My radio station is in Elmina so I am based at the Coconut Grove Beach Resort. I live at a beach resort with an 18 hole golf course, swimming pool, tennis court, basket ball hoop, a couple horses, some new donkeys, the beach, a crocodile pond and I get maid service. More on my living situation later.

My radio station in Elmina is called Ahomka FM which loosely translates to ‘satisfaction’. It is owned by the Coconut Grove Hotels that own 4 different hotels in Ghana: Elmina Beach Resort, Elmina Bridge House, Obuasi Miners Lodge and Accra Regency. These resorts as well as some other businesses in Ghana are all owned by Dr. Paa Kwesi Nduom. He is the CPP flagbearer one of the many political parties in Ghana and is running for president of Ghana this year. The elections are in December and I’ve been kinda active in the campaign already. In fact while we were staying at the Regency in Accra the Krista and Michelle, the ladies who traveled with me all through West Africa had takin flights back to the states. So I am the only one still in Ghana from the study abroad program. Actually most of them have been gone for months now. Anyway, while I was staying at the Regency getting my visa checked out and recovering from malaria. I met the video guy for Dr. Nduom’s campaign. He said he wanted to do a short documentary on the Dr. but needed someone to write the script and he could put all the video together. So I wrote him up a short script and the documentary should air some time next week. It was proofread by Ms. Nduom, crazy. I also got a chance to ride around in one of the Dr. Mobiles, these are trucks with the Doctors face painted all over them and loud speakers that play the CPP fight song. More on the politics later, but I did attend a press conference that the Dr. made and hung out at the CPP campaign headquarters. So I’m sure you have questions there is just so much to tell, please feel free to ask if im missing something you want to know about. That’s all I can do for now, I think I’m gonna go eat for free and then play a round of golf, or sit by the pool, or both. Go Ducks!

And We're Back

Aight so I forgot to mention a few things about Mali before I tell you of some stories in Togo. The first is I'd like to describe to you the tourist office in Kaye. First of all Kaye does not have any tourists. Not one person I met tourist. There were journalists and PCV's and people who call Kaye home. I am pretty sure that myself and the two lovely ladies that were traveling with me were the first tourists in Kaye history (exaggeration). Anyway the tourist office is run by this real nice guy who likes to say my name a lot and has the cutest little Malian boy who enjoys running around with just a shirt on or just underwear on, never both. A true no pants freelance fan. The rains in Mali although much appreciated for the pause in terrible heat and filling the river it also caused terrible flooding. The flooding seemed to center itself around the tourists office. So the Malians set up cinderblocks and rocks in a row above the few inches of filthy water to jump across to safety in the tourist office without falling into the cholera or dysentery that you can get by just looking directly at dirty water for too long (sarcasm). It was just like Mario. When finally getting through the
obstacle course and kicking Bowser's ass we met with some Malians and had this delicious Senegalese style meal with rice and sauce and goodness that we ate in one large bowl. I ate like a horse but they made enough to feed an army, an army of hungry horses. So i did my best to finish the entire bowl while my girly travel companions gave up early. We spent the rest of the meal watching the little boy stick spoons in his mouth and throw rice on the floor. The Malian who ran the tourist office, with help from a PCV, gave me the only brochure that I saw in the Kaye tourist office and it wasn't even for Kaye. It was a brochure for Timbuktu.
*Side note: Reminds me of a funny Kevin Nealon joke I heard while visiting my Bro at Lehigh. "There is lots to do in Bethlehem... You can go to Philadelphia, New York..."*
It was kinda like that but more like "Here is where you should have gone." Timbuktu looks like a sweet place and I wish we took the 8 hour hot smelly bus ride to see it, but ehh maybe next time im in Mali. And I could say "ya ive been to Timbuktu. What? You've never been?"
So we returned to Kaye and the ladies convinced me to go shopping. I wasn't thrilled but I wanted to see the market in Mali and compare prices to Ghana without buying anything. I ended up buying a Bubu (It like a dress but for dude). It is bright green and pretty baller. After that we ran to the airport in Bamako and got all the security guards confused yelling at them in English to let us in the airport and then boarded Malian Air on a flight to Lome, Togo. Yes, I was a little nervous boarding the official airline of the third poorest country in the world.
We made it though without any worries and there was an in flight meal. I didn't even know they had food in Mali let alone individual size packages of the stuff.
Lome was easy enough getting into and the cab driver had a brand new car and well posted fare prices in the parking lot of the airport. We stayed at a hotel about a 10 minute walk from the boarder of Ghana and a 2 minute walk to the ocean. Our hotel was of course the business, and just our luck that night we were there they had a live band who threw down some funky jams while we kicked back some wine. Overall though the stretch of bars on the beach in Lome reminded me of Rocky Point in the winter time. There is so much potential for a huge spring break rage fest but no one is around. The infrastructure is their the thousands of drunk college students is the only thing missing.
Seeing the Black Star on Ghana's border made me feel so happy that I could literally run to a place were they sometimes speak my language, and it truly felt like I was heading home. I also felt rather lethargic and my body ached all over. Krista (one of my foxy companions) diagnosed me with Malaria. I tried to protest. After a cold sweat and debilitating headache I finally agreed to just take her word for it rather than go to a hospital I just took some of her anti-malarials that she had left over from when she had malaria, and she became my doctor. I then got on a 3 hour tro tro ride back to Accra that was terribly painful and I had to go pee the entire ride. I dont remember much of the ride since I was hoped up on malaria prophylactics but it wasn't fun. We eventually made it back to Accra were I set us up at the Coconut Grove Regency Hotel for free!
So that is all for now. Next time details as to why I'm still in Ghana to write this blog, my new job, and probably a joke or two. Happy to be back. Daps to the fam and friends.

Mali Packs Heat like it's the Oven Door

I know it has been far too long for another Josh adventure update. I am a working man now though and it my stories are a month replaced from when they happened so it is difficult to get motivated. Anyway more on the working man Josh in a few blogs for now I'll just try to tell you what I remember from Mali and Togo. If anyone cares. And yes I know my Aunt Sarah cares.


So after Cote D'ivorre, we took a flight to Bamako, the capital of Mali. We were traveling with our friend Emily f***ing Doerr, who is in her second year as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) in Kaye. From my short week of being thrown into the world of a PCV, i came out confused. They are the strangest bread of people. Although I guess I can't hate because they dedicated 2 years of their lives to try to do some sort of good, so daps all around to the Peace Scorpions. One thing I learned is that PCVs love AOU (Acronym Over Use). Everything has a acronym. I also heard some terrifying stories (TS) about ET (Early termination) of PCVs for such things as: US (Uncontrollable Sobbing), RATE (Running away to Egypt), FIL (Falling into Latrine), DIP (Drunk in Public) honestly though how could you not be, RMBWH (Rideing Motobike Without Helmet). Just crazy stuff like that.

We woke up early in the morning, like 5:00 am bus early, after staying in this super weird hotel in Bamako. The Bus ride took 8 hours through some of the most beautiful African landscape I had yet to seen. I put on some STS9 (Sound Tribe Sector 9) and just watched Africa pass by. It was the type of Africa you see in movies with just huge open nothingness and those sweet Savannah trees, and it was the rainy season so it was all green and super HS (Head Stasch). Anyway besides the beautiful landscape the bus ride was pretty terrible. I don't enjoy being up so early and then shoved onto a bus that was entirely too hot and long.

We finally arrived in Kaye and I was a complete mess only to go outside and feel the real heat. If you're from Arizona you know the feeling of stepping out of a nice air conditioned building into the radiating heat in the summer. This was kinda the same thing but instead of a nice air conditioned building, I stepped out of a cramped, smelly, hot, gross bus to what I can only imagine the inside of a volcano feels like. Anyway, we made it and were now staying at the bureau? stage house? I dont know what it was called but it was the house that all the PCVs go to when they need to get away from the village life and play with the running water and electricity. Sadly the running water and electricity would just turn off multiple times throughout the day, I mean its Mali one of the poorest countries in the world. It was so hot we ended up spending most of the day thirsty and laying under the ceiling fans when the power was going. We did however manage to find the energy to rage Kaye a few times.

One night the PCVs decided to make some chicken and potatoes noodley thing. So we went to go get the chicken. I kept looking for the Safeway but I guess they havent made it to Kaye yet. So instead we went to the old naked lady who lives down by the Senegal River. When she saw us coming she threw a top on, thank god, and we decided to buy a couple of her live chickens that she kept in little round cages. She grabbed the chickens and I couldn't help but go watch them slice the necks. It was pretty gross, and definetly will make me think about buying those huge boneless chicken breasts at the supermarket in a different way. After the execution, the old now clothed lady boiled the chickens in a pot and afer a short time started to pull off the feathers with ease. Then she cut off the feet and ripped the head off with her hands. She soaked and cleaned them in another bucket of water and bagged them up for us to take back. It was quite a show.
One of the stranger things in Mali was that the people had difficulty pronounceing American names. Im not sure why, probably the same reasons that I have difficulty pronounceing Malian names. Anyway, to help move things along we were all given new names. My name was Balla Coulibaly, Michelle was Lala Coulibaly and Krista was Jalla Coulibaly. What your name is says a lot about you in Mali. The story goes (not sure where I heard this) that a long time ago there were many tibes that would be in these awful wars for some reason. Then one day they all decided to stop going to war and just make fun of each other based on the names of their villages. The way it works is that certain names are joking cousins so if you meet someone who is your joking cousins you are supposed to use some of the standard Mali dis'. For example: "You eat beans", "You're my donkey" , "You are my slave". Ya know weird stuff like that. Luckily for us the names that we were given the Coulibaly's are pretty much joking cousins with everyone. So every time we introduced ourselves people would be like "Coulibaly! Noooo, you are my slave, that is no good(translated)" and such. I dont know what youre supposed to think about that, but it was quite fun telling people that they ate beans.
I dont really remember much else about Kaye we spent a lot of time lying on the ground under a ceiling fan and watching movies. We watched "Kids" which has one of my friends in it but man that movie is messed up and I dont understand who would buy such a movie to watch over again and why that same person would bring it to a Peace Corps bureau, strange. Also, there was this real chill dog at the bureau named "Feely" which means to throw away in Bombarah (local language). She was super sweet and really dirty so we gave her a bath and she would follow us everywhere. One day we decided to go on a boat ride around the Senegal River, and there were a bunch of people washing clothes and swimming and stuff. Feely followed us out to the boats and then when she saw us pulling away she jumped in after us. I guess she isnt that good of a swimmer so I reached out and grabbed her dragging her into the boat before so floated down to Senegal. It was lucky that I am life guard certified, and that I didn't need to perform CPR, cause ewww.
I think that is all I got for Mali. It was way too hot and it happended like a month ago now so it is difficult to remember. I learned a lot of things about foreign aid and the Peace Corps. Pretty much what I got out of it is that helping people is really difficult especially when you come from a place that is very different from the way the local people have been living for generations. I truly believe that a developing country can only get so much foreign aid and that to make real change it has to come from within. Mali though is just a really shit place to try and do any sort of work. It is just too hot. I saw this donkey standing under a semi truck and I was so jealous that he got just stand in the shade. I think i may have been a little dehydrated.
So ill leave you with a joke that is pretty popular with the PCV crowd. "There is this guy and he is just walking along in the jungle minding his own business probably singing some lil Wayne track when all the sudden he steps without looking and falls in this huge hole. He is stuck and can't get out. Luckily for him a missionary comes walking along and sees the man in the hole. The missionary looks at the man andsees his desperate situation and throws a bible in the hole and walks away. After reading the bible a few times the poor fellow is still stuck in this hole that is apparently too deep for even Jebus to help get him out. Another turn of good fortune for this poor booger was that an NGO (Non-Governmental Organization) sends a representative who throws a bunch of money into the hole. After counting up all the money the man is still stuck in the hole and now richer but there are no taco bells or Little Ceaser's in the hole so he can't spend the money. So then a PCV comes along with his backpack and jumps in th hole. The man in the hole asks him if there is something in the backpak they can use to get out of the hole. The PCV starts unpacking the bag and says "No, i've come to live with you for 2 years." Allright sorry it took me so long to get another one of these posts done. I can't wait to catch up and let you know what I've been doing in Elmina (that is where I'm living now).
Teasers for next time. Togo, Malaria, Accra, who knows? Opposite of Bon jour to ya.

WAWA (West Africa Wins Again)

Bon jour my friends and relatives and people I don't know. Before I get started I'd like to address a question from my dear Aunt Sarah. Her question is how do Ghanaians feel about Barack Obama? The short answer is that they love him and they want him to win the presidency. When they ask if I support him and I say yes, they are always surprised because I am a "white man and Obama is black" they say this as if it is news to me and that now that I have heard this I will surely support McCain. I am not trying to turn this into a political blog so I am just gonna leave is at that. I am also really excited to cast my absentee ballot. I will also leave you with a link to a music video by Black Rasta a popular musician in Ghana who wrote a song about Obama that can be heard on the radio and on every other persons ring tone. The Ghanaians care more about US politics then their own. After a cabby asked me about the US presidential race I asked him what he thought about the Ghanaian elections and he said "I really dont care about Ghanaian politics" I find it strange that the people of Ghana care more about the US elections then their own. I guess we just sell it better. Anyway here is the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L85YF0pyPH0&feature=related it is pretty great.
Now to get you all back up to speed I left for Cote D'ivorre the first stop on my three country West African tour with two lovely ladies that we will call Michelle and Krista. Getting to the Cote D'ivorre border was filled with long uncomfortable tro tro rides and lots of confusion. At the border one of the guards started speaking to me in spanish and got me all mixed up to go to the french speaking Cote D'ivorre but I was impressed by much spanish I was able to spit back at him. Crossing the border was supposed to be difficult but we kinda just passed right through. Getting to Abidjan was a little more difficult. We got in these sketchy shared taxi things were the driver was going a million kilometers an hour and passing cars in the wrong lane. During a traffic jam he just jump ship and went in the other lane and it was just madness, with old ladies yelling at him in French. I was scared as hell and the journey took like 9 hours but we finally made it and when we got to Abidjan we met up with one of Michelle's old sorority sisters who was shit faced drunk. Apparently earlier that day she went into this fancy hotel across the street from our sketchy hostel and met some guys who work for this oil company based out of singapore but were in Cote D'ivorre helping out or something. Anyway they hadn't left the hotel in weeks because the oil rig had too many people on it and they were too scared to leave the hotel because of the people throwing things at white people and the civil war. So these guys were a little cabin crazy and decided to buy all of us dinner and booze in exchange for friendly company. Well maybe not just friendly because Emily 'F***in' Doerr told them that me and Krista were brother and sister so that I could come too. Of course once we got talking one of the oil barons grew up in Washington and went to school at ASU so Michelle immediately told them that Krista was from Spokane and I was from AZ separating us and I had to use my quick wit to come up with a shady broken home sort of back story. It didn't really matter though cause these guys were wasted and after having the buffet with the strangest assortment of foods and bomb desserts they would bring out trays of booze: beers, sex on the beach, champagne. We took a look at the menu the champagne was 100 dollars a bottle and just one beer was the same price we paid for our sketchy hostel room. We swam in the olympic size pool until the oil barons made the girls uncomfortable so we left. I was loving it though and wanted to kick with these crazy kids the next day. The ladies were not as enthiused.
So what else to say about Cote D'ivorre... We went to some beach town that I forget the name of and it reminded me of santorini with a bunch of bars/hotels on the beach but they were all empty. On the way down we got stopped at a security check poit were a policeman with a big gun came in to check our passports. After seeing we were Americans (except Krista she is Canadian) he said "I will come to America and everyone will die!!!" with this huge smile as if what he was saying was totally normal. Anyway after some alarming glances between each other he let the bus go and we were on our way to... I think it was called grand basam or something like that. When we arrived we were literally the only tourists around and the hawkers on the beach quickly found us. I bought a sword that also had a dagger in the handle, and the girls bought a bunch of stupid crap they had to lug around to two other countries like giant salad bowls and a treasure chest (there was no treasure inside). We also saw like 4 military helicopters pass over us that was kinda sketch, but at least they didn't shoot.
When we got back to Abidjan it was the Cote D'ivorre independence day so we were planning on having a killer time like during Ghana's republic day. The streets though were completely empty around our hostel and all we saw was a motorcade that sped by. We heard there were people marching to the presidents house but it all seemed like no one knew what was going on. So we were hella bored and decided to take a ferry around the river cause we had nothing else to do. We ended up getting off and found a bar called Mexico that was bumping some reggaeton music and was filled with people... drunk people. We walked in and felt the eyes all stareing at us and made our way to the bar. Everyone was coming up to us speaking in French and I had no idea what was going on. We adventually got led to the VIP room that was dark and filled with dudes sitting on leather sofas and it smelled really strange, like gross strange. So we got out of there back with the normal folks. And a guy in the back sitting at a huge booth like thing invited us to sit with him. He would from then on be called the Grand Petron. He wore this sweet hipster jacket and had some mean looking facial hair. He bought us boxes of wine and they were making Calle Mochos (Sp?) any way wine and coca cole mixed together (this was my drink of choice back in Madrid). One of the Grand Petrons friends was a mess. For those of you who know just think of any Ducks football game and he was that guy. He didn't speak much english and kept screaming at us "Happy days for yoooooooooooooooou!" and he bought us each our own box of wine. We had to go though and meet up with our friend who ran the hostel, Sumiley, we called him Smiley, to take us out on the town.
After some schwarma we went to this street that was full of bars with crazy lights and DJ's all celebrating the independence. We saw this live band, the cyclone something band, and they were super fresh and the guitar player was pulling off some slashesque licks. It was totally unnexpected, like most of West Africa. So we adventually moved on to another bar that was just stupid crazy and to make a long story short the DJ called Michelle into the DJ booth but she didn't speak any french so she ran away and she came back with a lollipop that she said belong to someone else after she made us all try it... gross. While we were leaving Krista got hungry like she does after drinking and she bought a sausage sandwhich that she said tasted like subway but it looked like rat meat. Then one of Sumileys friends told us to try this meat that was wrapped in banana leaves only to find out that it was heart. So i ate some heart, but I hear it is good for you.
The next couple days we lounged around the decaying city of Abidjan that you could tell was set up for tourists and is really very metroplitan reminded me of a euoropean city but there were no tourists because of the "boom boom" as the locals call it. We went to some super huge church with pretty stained glass that depicted the french colonials coming to Cote D'ivorre to save the people from their sinful ways. Kinda ridiculous. We also went to the Hotel Ivorre that was this huge complex where nothing was working except for the bowling lanes. So we decided to roll a round. I won with a score of 98 definetly not my best effort but the balls were all cracked and the lanes super warped so i think i did allright. It was definetly a strange feeling rolling in this war torn country but could also make a good essay, it was super emo.
That's all your getting from me tonight, although I'm sure I left out stuff and just plain made some things up but thats how i remember it. I have to get up early for work. What? did you think I was just laying on the beach all day? Well kinda. Don't stop till you get enough. I dont trust this spellcheck aodgsgeeif so once again sorry for the typos.

When I come back wearing the 45 it's not to play games with you; it's to aim at you.

What more can I say. You have to pardon Jay for selling out the garden in a day, and you have to pardon me cause it has been far too long since I gave you some more quality Josh story time. So I'm going going back back to ..... the internet? OK i think I've been listening to too much gangsta rap, although I have to say I am definetly big pimpin and living the good life. With that said I have an entire month of adventures back logged that I have probabluy allready forgotten and the ones I do remember I am sure to have exaggerated them to the point of fiction. So with so much info to give you I should stop stalling cause I still havent even told you about my trip to the Volta region. That was a good month ago and when all my little duck friends were all still here. They left me with the two crazy girls to travel through the worst countries in the world and even they found a way to leave west africa. It's not so easy for me. Ok on to the lightning round of spitting out the stories. Please feel free to add your own hyperboles, and I should note that all stories are actually dumbed down to make me seem less dangerous and sexy because not even blogger could handle that much Josh. Allright Volta in 5 seconds or less...

So I have to be honest I don't remember Volta at all it comes to me in pictures like my birthday for the past couple of years. I do remember the night before decideing that I would pack in the morning before we left at 5 in the morning. I also remember going to tantra the night before with some peace scorpions (my bro made that up) and finally getting to bed with an hour before leaving for the volta region. I remember Krista eating a burger outside the club like an animal (ha!) I remember Sonny my main mang who has to be the same age as me or at least the same level of immaturity saying that our fearless leader Doc. Williams was not coming on the trip and that him and Scot, the 20 year old hipster, was in charge (no disprespect to Scot who is more than a 20 year old hipster, but I just dont have the time and there is not enough space on the internet to explain the intricacies of my main mang Scot). Anywaysss, I remember stopping at a bridege and sleeping on a bus. I remember our hotel that looked like a rehab clinic and the forming of the high comission. For those of you who are confused the high comission involved me Ken ( He looks a lot like Lucas from empire records) and Scot (the previously categorized hipster kid) speaking with silly accents and telling people that their volume was not authorized. PS sorry this blog turned into a bunch of inside jokes. Anywayssss, I remember going to the biggest waterfall in west africa with bats everywhere and trying to swim under it and getting destroyed by the current. I remember going to a monkey santuary where monkeys ate bananas out of my hand and jumped from tree to tree over my head. I remember stopping on the side of the road so i could by roadside: oyster kebabs, snail kebabs, shrimp, tiny unrecognizeable fish and other foods that I really shouldn't be eating at a fancy restaurant and definetly not off the side of the road in Africa. I remember the bus breaking down about a half hour from any sort of civilization and within 20 minutes a guy on a bicycle selling ice cream stopping by out of nowhere to save the day and waiting another ten minutes before a bus that was practically empty to stop and offer us a ride into town. That is just my kind of luck I guess. And that is the Volta. It was a shit show and I am sure I left important things out but thats all youll get from me. Its been over a month since all this happended so I think I did a pretty good job.
I am sure there were other events that occured while my Duck friends all left me with the two crazy girls to travel through the sketchy parts of West Africa, but none that I remember or feel are appropriate for the blog. We had a heart felt goodbye and I truly miss everyone of them even though I'm pretty sure they are all nuts. So looking forward to next time Cote D'ivorre, maybe some Mali and Togo and then we can get started on the exciting stuff that is happening right now. Sorry for the absence but Im back. Go Ducks!

Oh the scary places you will go

so this isnt really an update well it kinda is but i gotta keep it short cause i have only three minutes left. anyway im in cote divoire and the keyboard is in french so extra typo post for today. ive done so many crazy things but i dont have much time to write about them so im gonna make a teaser list for you of just zords zith typos to remind myself to tell you about latter and i dont know when ill be able to do that so here it goes;
saddam and gamorrah, whore house, conpound emptys, saying good bye to peqce fm, hello coconut grove, blqck pope, ahkuma fm, ok gottq go cote divoire independence i ,iss u all

Questions Answered

So i realize that i keep asking for questions and peole continue to send me them but I never get around to answering them. So to remedy this situation I will be answering questions from Ms. Betsy Franson as well as any others I can in the next 12 minutes I have left. Here we go:
Question 1.
What's the weather like?
The weather is Hot, but it's a warm heat. There are very few places with A/C so everyone is just kinda smelly and dirty. Ghanaians don't seem to sweat and I have to admit that I have somewhat gotten used to the heat. Also, it is the rainy season so there are monsoons that bring downpours that flood everything. It isnt as hot as Phoenix in the Summer but its still pretty freakin hot.
Question 2.
Cuisine and Drank?
The Ghanaian food is pretty awful. They have Banku that has a similar texture to play dough and Fufu that has a similar consistency to thick paste. Banku is cassava and plantains pounded to make a ball of playdough and Fufu is corn. The process of making Fufu is very sexual. The man stand over the women with his giant smasher and in a rhythm smashes the fufu as the woman takes water or something and folds it over. Everytime the smashers is inches away from the womans hand as they work together in rhythm (one man no chop!). The fufu and banku are served in different types of soup: light soup, ground nuts soup... and usually either chicken, fish, or goat or strange meat. Also there is Jollof rice that is rice with some sort of seasoning that is pretty good. Kenkey that i talked about in the last post is by far my favorite local food. I have however found a way to eat the banku and fufu by swallowing it as fast as possible without out chewing. Oh and i forgot to mention all these excluding the rice is eaten with your hands. You ball up some banku or rip off a piece of fufu and dunk it in the soup and throw it in your mouth (no homo). Further on the food... there are many items that the street hawkers sell to you on the side of the road while in traffice things like: Plantain chips, pure water, fanchoco and fanyogo (ice cream), chocolate, corn and cheesy gordita crunches (not true but sometimes i dream about it). I also recently did some not so smart decisions while waiting for our bus broke down on our trip to the Volta region (more on this trip next post). I tried an oyster kebab, shrimp, grass cuter kebab, snail kebab and a bag of tiny fish that i didn't really know what they were from the side of the road. I sometimes question eating seafood in fancy restaurants in the states but for some reason, i was probably dehydrated, i just had to try it. THey were all pretty ok except for the snails that were what you expect a snail to taste like. My stomach was pretty ok after teh strange foods but I had a mean poop (gross) the next day. Nothin to write home about... or i guess it was. And id like to let you know that as I was writing this my co-worker put a gizzard kebab in my face and I took a huge bite of it. It was spicy.
A note on bowel movements: I used to take the act of taking a poo for granted but it is a miracle of the human body. I would like to tell you a story of Nick, one of my fellow companions/roommates in Ghana. He is a good kid from small town Montana and he went 12 days without taking a poo. He took 8 laxatives drank as much juice and coffee as her could and nothing. Yesturday was a huge step for him as he was able to squeeze out a little something the entire dilema is a process and I will surely keep you updated on his status. Today he is light on his feet an opptomistic after eating at a lebanese restaurant that is sure push its way through. Sorry if this was gross, but I thought it was funny.
One last thing on food. There are legitamte shopping centers and even a brand new mall in Accra with plenty of food that is recognized. Although I have lost plenty of weight since I've been here I have been eating well and when I start my job at coconut grove my boss said im guaranteed to gain some pounds. OK anymore food questions please bring them on. Also if you want to send me some Goldfish or some gushers please feel free. If you can figure out how to get me a chipotle burrito or a prince pucklers chocolate oreo malt ill worship you like a god.
Question 3.
Do Ghanaians drink a lot?
Well it depends on the Ghanaian. There is a very healthy nightlife for ghanaians and expats. The local drink of choice is beer or gin. They have local beers like Star (my brew it's heiniken) and Club that are popular, Guiness is also hugely popular among Ghanaians. There is also palm wine that is pretty hit or miss. It is moonshine made out of palm frawns so the alcohol content depends on the bottle you get. Also Apeteche is supposed to be the strongest gin youll ever had and if it is made the wrong way you can go temporarily blind. I havent tried apeteche yet. I dont know I feel like ive talked about some of my nightlife adventures before and im sure ill let you in on more stories latter cause Betsy has soooo many questions.
Question 4.
Are the schools in session now?
The university of Ghana is on break but there are still people hanging around but not as many as during the school year. THere are still kids wearing cool uniforms running around so i assume there is some schoolin going down. Also my 14 yr old bartender has to close the bar up at 10:30 cause he has school.
Question 5.
What about women in Ghana?
The ladies in Ghana are some of the prettiest girls i've ever seen. Everytime I turn my head its like 10! 10! 10! 10! I havent hooked up with any local girls...yet. Yes I will keep the gypsy tears close. THere is a gender divide and men are looked at to be dominate but I haven't really noticed too much I dont know what you call it... feminism crap. I work with strong intelligent ladies who work with men. We have female announcers and editors and producers.
Question 6.
What do most people dress like?
Most people dress in american style clothing. It is funny i find that people in the US go to places like Abercrombie to buy clothing that looks throwback and everyone in ghana has that gear but it is just sent over from the states. I love looking around and seeing the jerseys people wear. Ive seen Eddie George, Quinten Jammer, Michael Jordan. And even a couple Diamond Bs hats. The traditional wear is also sported by people in everyday wear but it is becoming less popular. The men wear booboos that are like mumus just one piece long tunicy type things that look awesomely comfortable. No, I havent gotten one cause I would look ridiculous. THe women are always immaculately dressed with long dresses with colorful african prints and braided haird. Looking good. Ghanaians definetly know how to stay fresh to def.
Question 7.
Have you found yourself a virgin wife?
No, I am single and now aparently a bit of a stud muffin. The office is working hard to find me the right virgin wife as the marketing department and newsroom battle over me. Its really bizarre.
Question 8.
What sports are big there?
Football (Soccer) is not just big but it is the only thing that Ghanaians care about. Everything is football. They also have Golf, Hockey (yes ice hockey), but Football is the sport of choice. If Michael Essien ran for the presidency he would win unanimously(Michael Essien is a Ghanaian who plays for Chelsea, he just signed a fatty 5 yr deal with the club and is one of the best mid-fielder in the world, he also is the spokeperson for fanyogo an frozen yogurt type thing)
Question 9.
Do people watch a lot of TV?
No most people don't have a tube, but they do usually find one to watch football matches. The green zone (the name of our house) does have a TV but no satelite so we never watch it. Without Satelite there is only 3 or 4 channels that are pretty piss poor. Really funny comercials though and i get satelite at work so i can watch CNN and stuff. Radio though is the number one media in ghana and Peace FM is the number one radio station. Everyone listens to the radio at all times.
Question 10.
Are there a lot of X-pats?
Yes there are X-pats and X-pat bars for them to mingle. I havent really chatted up with too many but they seem allright. Alot of people from Ireland and the UK. Some from the states. Ryans is one of the popular x-pat bars and they serve jager shots, pretty cool. Dont know what else to say about that.
Question 11.
Do you play your harmonica?
Yes, all the time. I dont know how to play but I pretend and try to follow along with bob dylan and billy joel. I have also kinda learned when the saints go marching. Im working on the ducks fight song. Thanks for the harmonica it makes me look like such a baller.
Question 12.
Are you really staying for 6 more months?
Yes, yes I am. I changed my plane ticket to February 2nd 2009! (I cant believe it is 2009) I am going to Cote D'ivoirre, Mali, and Togo on a little holiday with some of my friends and some Peace Corps kids that i call 'the Corps' for almost 3 weeks then I'll spend a couple days in Accra before heading to Cape Coast to live at the resort. Ive talked more with my boss and he said that I would just be based out of the coconut grove helping out with the radio station and travel around with Dr. Paa Kwesi Ndoum, who is running for president helping with the campain. He is with the CPP and if you want to learn more about it id google it. He recently came out with a manifesto and i support most of what he says he is a really interesting guy. The next couple months are going to be unreal. I am getting a drviers license (i dont know why) and will be living the good life on the beach while helping the community and being a baller.
Allright I think that is all thanks to Ms. Franson for her questions. Please do send more and ill try to answer them as swiftly as I can. Still gotta tell you about volta region as this is my last week at Peace FM i should try to get some work done. I miss you all keep in touch. Sorry for the typos spellcheck is down.