Peace and Love Man!

Well, I’ve officially completed my first week of classes.  However, I haven’t actually had a single class.  College works a little differently here, that is to say much much slower.  The lack of productivity is starting the irritate me, but I keep reminding myself THIS IS AFRICA.

Wednesday night a lot of exchange students and I went to Reggae night at the bar on the beach. It was amazing! We were literally hanging out on the ocean. There were a few live bands that sang Bob Marley songs while we danced around fire pits in the sand.  The entire place was swarming with Rastafarians (peace and love man), and they were hands down the most entertaining dance partners I have ever had. However, they tend to want something from you (money, phone number, etc) so we were always a little wary of their excessive friendliness.  The next morning a few of us went back to the beach to hang out and nap and there was still one man passed out in the sand from the night before…poor guy.

Yesterday we traveled about an hour north of Accra to a village called Aburi to see some gardens and hit up a 10-mile hike through the mountains.  About a mile into our hike we came across this hut where two Rastafarians lived. The first thing they said was, “Hi.  Want some pot pot?” Don’t worry mom, we said no. They had a few guitars lying around, and the one guy without pants insisted on playing a song for us.  I was expecting it to be really good because I figured he had a lot of time on his hands out in the middle of nowhere.  I was wrong. It was terrible but also completely hilarious; thankfully, I was able to video a bit of it.  After his performance, he instructed us that we had to turn around and take different path.  Basically, he didn’t want us to see his field of weed around the next corner.

The rest of the hike was beautiful, and I only fell in one stream of water!  I felt like I was in fern gulley the entire time. And I saw the biggest tree I have ever seen in my life.  I’m pretty sure it was larger around than the redwoods in California.  At the end of the hike these “tour guides” informed us that we were supposed to pay four cedi each to take the hike, and apparently we were trying to cheat them.  One of the girls who had lead the expedition argued our ignorance but that only resulted in attempts to arrest her.  So we ended up paying; I swear they will do anything in this country to make money off the obrunis (white people). 

Tro tro rides never disappoint me.  I feel something interesting happens every time. On the way to the market the other day a Ghanaian man turned to me and said, “I love you.”  He then attempted to get my number and address so he could come visit me. Thankfully, I’ve learned the correct response to these inquiries, and it is, “I’m sorry, we don’t do that in my culture.”

I’ve never been more thankfully for washing machines in my entire life as I am here.  I did my laundry in the primitive fashion a few days ago, and it was absolutely exhausting.  Four hours!  Seriously, the washing machine is moving up my list of best modern conveniences NOT available to me, right next to ice cream.

Today, I’m going into the city to buy some American food and DVDs (they have everything still in theaters in the US).  And hopefully enjoy some air conditioning in the process.  Next weekend we’re headed to Cape Coast – exciting!