so it’s us three and the ghost. SOLID.

In case you are wondering what I’m doing right now, I’m sitting cross legged, tangled in my sleep sheet, trying to make my internet work in a tiny hotel room while singing “It’s in His Kiss” (the one that Angela karaoke-d on Boy Meets World,) but the problem is the only lyrics I know are “If you wanna know if he loves you so it’s in his kiss, that’s where it is” so I’m being forced to make up new lyrics such as “Is it his toes? Oh no that ain’t where it is. Is it in his feet? Oh no that’s where you run from? Is it in his ankles? Oh no, that’s where the mosquitos bite me,” and then the small part of the chorus I know and hten repeating with three more body parts. 12 years of summer camp had to go somewhere.
That’s a lie. I’m not doing that anymore. It’s a day later. My ability to write a blog in one sitting has left me. Sorry I haven’t updated in so long. It’s a combination of business, tiredness, and Africa robbing me of the skills of doing things, remembering things, and paying attention to things that are not games of FreeCell or Hearts. Which I am going to go back to for a hot second and then come back here.
Okay the game of FreeCell is hitting a rough patch. Also I just spelled rough rouch. FML. Since the last two (AKA three) blog entries were basically rambling and not me saying anything about what I’ve done ever, I’m going to try to synthesize the last week or so (sense of time also out the window) for the folks at home. But really I do NOT remember anything about the passage of days or time here. I can’t remember dates or even which weekday things happened on. Maybe it’s all the traveling, maybe it’s Africa, NOBODY KNOWS.
So the last concrete event (apart from how much I watch TV and that I went to a summer camp for 12 years) that I talked about was going to the Togo/Ghana border. This was our last full day in the Volta region, I THINK. The world will never know. After this we took another lengthy bus ride to Krobo-Dumase. This may or may not be the correct spelling. The bus we have now is relatively nice, it is small potatoes compared to our superfancylovebeauty bus from Accra to Kumasi that I died of happiness and was reborn in, but it is ONE THOUSAND TIMES BETTER than the shit on wheels we took from Kumasi to Tamale (and this trip was 10 hours…nobody knows why SIT does this to us.) I spent this bus ride…nobody remembers things like what they spent bus rides doing, never mind. I also don’t remember a lot of other things which is disturbing but it seems to be an affliction affecting everyone in my program so we won’t worry about that until later. We arrived at our hotel in Krobo-Dumase which was called the Sas George Hotel. You can’t make this stuff up.
Luckily my dream of living in a room the size of the western tackroom at Hoofbeat with three people on a bed and a mattress that left zero floorspace was fulfilled. Did I say that was lucky and that that was my dream? I meant DREADFUL BECAUSE THAT WAS MY NIGHTMARE. Oh hey SIT, ever thought about getting a hotel that had enough room for everyone on your program instead of forcing three people none of whom are in a relationship (although me and Kelly are close now, that bed was pretty damn small) into a couple sized room when they all have a semesters worth of luggage? Oh but my favorite part was when we were standing in this room (and when I say that I mean standing on the mattress on the floor because there was no room to stand on the floor) the faucet turned on BY ITSELF and started shooting a Jetstream of water out into the bathroom. For the next. Three. Hours. Ghanaian plumbers do not arrive ever, even when Kwame says ‘there’s the plumber,’ he isn’t there for another two hours.
Needless to say, that living situation put me in an AWESOME mood. I’ve never been known to get moody because of external factors. I’ve also never been known to get moody because of spending 24/7 with the same 21 people for 10 weeks…oh wait. Also Redlands folk, the next time you complain about how small Redlands is expect a swift roundhouse kick. I will be lavourishing (that is not even a word) in how great it feels to have 2000 people around me that can be my friends next semester. I could never even meet 2000 people! Life is so great!
Other than living in a box this hotel was nice. The food was spicy which has actually not been happening much here so I was happy. The place we dined also had a bar, in keeping with the Ghana theme of having bars everywhere we go.
Our time in Krobo-Dumase seemed to coincide with some type of king festival chief type of thing that even though we saw parts of it for three days I still do not understand. The first day we sat on a balcony for three hours while this festival thing took place below us. It was cool for the first hour. But being interested in culture be damned, I have ADD like Leo has incredible good looks and I cannot for the life of me pay attention to anything that is over an hour unless I am participating in it. So I stopped watching the people on the street mingle after an hour and started Dubliners (finished The Prince of Tides, LOVED IT) slash also napped. This is when I realized that I am overtired. There were GUNSHOTS going off at this thing. GUN SHOTS. And I still managed to fall asleep for small time intervals. Something is wrong.
Then we ate lunch. The usual, I had rice and stew. I would post my extrapolation on the four Ghanaian dishes now but this nice WIFI of the new hotel I’m in in Accra runs out in 15 so I must be quick and update more tomorrow. After lunch we got to do MORE waiting around (OH MY GOD MY FAVORITE THING I DIDN’T GET MOODY AT ALL, TERRIN DIDN’T TAKE A PICTURE OF ME LOOKING PISSED NEXT TO A SUNGLASSES SELLER WHO WAS SMILING AND GIVING THE THUMBS UP SIGN) before going to a visitation with the king (aka him saying he was great via a translator and then us saying where we were from and maybe someone asking questions that were probably unnecessary) and then a dipo rights (which is like girls shit) presentation. This is something I should extrapolate on because it was interesting. But I’m tired and may do so later, or maybe I will never do that. Who knows. Towards the end I got real pissy because my AD decided that instead of saying anything relevant to the dipo thing he would talk about how he is the only man in all of Ghana writing books on Twi and how language is super important and he is god and we should all worship him (or something like that) we got to leave. THEN, we FINALLY went to the bead making workshop that was scheduled for two hours before that. Oh, Ghana.
The bead workshop was great because I got to see a live working artist showing us things, we saw beads, we saw how BEER BOTTLES are what makes a lot of beads (who knew!) and then we got to make beads! We put the broken glass into molds and then the guy melted them for us. I made mine green and white while singing Beta songs in my head and feeling generally happy about life.
On that note, do not let my generally cranky tone in these last few blog posts make you think I hate my life. Lots of annoying things have happened but I am getting much better at dealing with them and they never make me cry. Also, I never really get MAD, just cranky, because I must not forget that I get to go back to Joyland aka America in less than two months and all the difficult things I encounter (spider in my bathroom as we speak) are all just a part of the life here. And I am just so lucky.
I miss my friends a lot. I get along really well with a few girls and one of the guys here, but it isn’t the same as home. There are also a few people who I don’t jive well with, public blog be damned. Most of the people in my group I feel like I’m just on fairly happy terms with but we probably won’t go off and like be each others bridesmaids or anything. Also, yet again public forum be damned, STOP TALKING IN A GHANAIAN ACCENT AND NOT USING GRAMMAR YOU INGRATES. IT IS INCREDIBLY CONDESCENDING TO TRY TO IMITATE SOMEONE’S ACCENT WHILST DROPPING WORDS AND USING IMPROPOR SPEECH, BECAUSE IT IMPLIES THAT THEY ARE NOT AS INTELLIGENT AS YOU AND YOU NEED TO SAY THINGS LIKE “YOU GIVE ME CHANGE” INSTEAD OF “PLEASE CAN YOU GIVE ME MY CHANGE” FOR THEM TO UNDERSTAND YOU, WHICH IS NOT TRUE. MANY OF THE LECTURERS WE’VE HAD ARE SMARTER THAN YOU WILL EVER BE, AND LSKGJLKJGLGL
Okay rant over. But seriously. Gag me with a spoon. Also, get the chip off your shoulder. That is referring to an entirely different breed of people on this trip that have nothing to do with that last paragraph, but if I say anymore someone may ACTUALLY gag me with a spoon.
Okay so I have like two more days of events to post on PLUS lots of things I have thought to say about life and such, but I think I will write that all down tonight/later and update again tomorrow because for the next three days I have WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFIIIIIIIIIIII YAHOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!
BTW this is the first time I have had WIFI.
In the past two months.


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