Sunday, October 12, 2008

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. . 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…

1 comment:

Krista said...

oh god, Ghana hole! poor Nick, I hope you had some neosporin. jealous of your bywel, wazuu and epo's trips. the bars here are worthless in comparison.