Ghananess

As nothing much is going on at the moment (well, that is very relative) I suppose it's time for a general post.

Let's start with the smell. Ghana air never smells like fresh air. It is always permeated by an odor of either rotting plants, rotting food, or rotting excrement. Depending on the locale. My favorite, of course, is rotting plants. After a week in the city I certainly hanker after the fumes of foliage that has seen more rain than it knows what to do with.

Okay, now the taxis. I don't think I've properly explained my taxi predicament before, and Jalissa seemed amused by it. Well there are three types - drop, shared, and line. Except really line and shared are the same, unless you're sharing a drop...haha. Okay so drop taxis are pretty much your normal taxi - you agree on a price and give a location. Shared are more confusing, cheaper, and what I am more wont to take. You must stand at a designated station and use various finger movements to indicate where, in general, you want to go. For instance, for my first taxi I wiggle my finger in a circle to indicate that I want to go to the nearest roundabout. A taxi will hopefully pause by me and I say "sofoline?" or "abrepo?" or "junction?" or "airport?" (these are for getting to/from work). If they nod, I enter and pay around 40 pesewas when I get close to my destination. If they shake their head, I rinse and repeat with the next unsuspecting taxi driver. A proper taxi trip will involve no communication at all, and those are exciting. As the taxi goes along, it will stop and pick up/drop off other people. It all goes quite well as long as I know where the connecting station, if you will, is, as it is sometimes quite far down the road or doesn't have line taxis going where you want.
Are you confused? You should be. Also factor in the strange pronunciation of african words and the indistinguishable scenery, and you have yourself quite the experience. There are also tro-tros, which act as shipshod buses. They hold up to infinite amounts of people (okay, usually about 30), resemble mini vans, and follow a specific route. One man, called the mate, stands in the door and yells out the destination to passersby. Money is collected close to the destination or as people request to be let out. I try to avoid tros.

Also, the mattresses here resemble car washing sponges. The one I sleep on could be considered the tempurpedic of "latex foam", as they are termed, as it seems to remember quite well in the morning exactly how large my bum was during the night. Altogether fairly comfortable, actually. The food...food here is generally a ball of doughish stuff surrounded by oily broth and maybe a chunk of meat (with the hair still on it). They call it different things - kenke, fufu, banku - but it really seems to be the same tasteless concoction each time. Sadly, it takes them ages to pound the gloppy mess into a state of readiness. I often have to hand feed it to the toddlers. For breakfast, I have a slice of bread and either porridge or tea. I don't view porridge and tea as equal, but here having something hot is the only important thing. Which might explain the scalding milk they feed the babies and the boiling water they wash them in. Literally. When the babies spit up, it burns my leg. For lunch I have two slices of bread with jam in the middle. Today I have omelette in the middle, but after doing stuff with the babies I can't stomach it. Dinner is usually rice with a tomato and fish sauce (tomato and fish must go together. There's even a commercial about their love that I really can't explain) and sometimes chicken or an egg. Dinner is my favorite.

The children: in the house I work in there are about 6 babies, 4 toddlers, and 20 older children. I say about because I really have no idea how many girls are there. Some, like one disabled girl, are locked up all day and only come out to pee on the floor. I try to spend most of my time with the toddlers, as they are the most needing of attention. The older ones mostly play amongst themselves, and the babies are either locked up or being fed/bathed. The toddlers mostly sit alone, so I've made it my mission to take them on walks to the "seesaw" (the playground...ironically they never use the seesaw) so they can see the other children and have a go on the swings. One girl has yet to smile or really do anything but glare since I have been here, but today I got her to hold my hand and warble a bit. I refuse to answer to bruni, so I insist that they use my name if they want my attention. Being referred to as merely "white person" has become frustrating more quickly than I thought. It makes you feel more like a faceless object than a rarity. After a while, being leaned on and constantly touched makes you feel more used than loved - more like a chair than a person. Some of the girls are quite attached to me while others feign disinterest - that is, until I make cheeky faces at them and they erupt into laughter. I'm still not sure if anyone is happy here. It's hard to withdraw from my own standards of living and objectively evaluate theirs, but based on conversations with Francis they are indeed treated very poorly. Children in ghana are not given equal rights (which is apparently why Francis does not eat or converse with his children) and this sentiment is clearly amplified in respect to orphans. Beating has been made illegal, in an effort to mimic western standards, but of course these children have no parents to complain on their behalf.

I have also composed a list of things they don't need in ghana, as well as what they do. Here is what you shouldn't send to Africa: shoes, clothes, toys, bananas, water, toothpaste, or anything with packaging. There is a huge box of unused clothes and shoes at the orphanage. Kids don't know how to use or treasure toys, as they have never been given any in that context. A toy is destroyed and not enjoyed. Children don't drink any water but they could easily drink from readily available water sachets. They love to brush their teeth multiple times a day, so there is toothpaste everywhere. There is not a single trash can in Ghana, so any garbage must be tossed to the side of the road or sent home with you. Here is what they need: milk, other dairy products, hot water, discipline, work ethic. I think those are self explanatory.

Alice remains very sick and slept all day yesterday and probably today. She is very pale, feverish, and hasn't eaten since saturday. I tried to stay out of the room so I did my washing, which took over an hour and resulted in a sudsy, damp clothes. I have come to the conclusion that washing is really more out of principle than any actual aspiration for cleanliness.

Wow I was totally planning on a short update today, as I had nothing to say, but I kind of failed. Sorry. Alright, I'm off to brave the taxis, play with my host brothers, take care of my sickly roomie, and see if I can stay up past 9! Bye for now.
if I can stay up past