Obrani!

Heeeyy!!

I love Ghana. I spoke to a woman in a shop yesterday ( I say shop, I mean tin hut by the side of the road, but that means shop here) and she told me she wanted to go to England. I quite honestly answered her that I didn't think she would like it. Its cold, and the people are rude. In Ghana the people are amazing. So friendly, everywhere you go people stop you and ask "How are you?". Or the children will run up to you yelling "Obrani! Obrani", meaning white person. But its totally friendly, they want to welcome you. One cabbage farmer in a tro tro (minibus service, very rickety, door held on by tape but I had the good seat up front where you don't get coated in dust) offered me the choice of his 23 or 25 year old sons as a husband. I let him write down the name of his church so I could contact him when I decide. I probably won't do that.

The Volunteer Partnerships for West Africa (VPWA) compound where I am living is owned by Numo, the chief of Greater Accra - a VERY important man. Who happens to be in England for 6 months, so I won't meet him. His wife (I think 3rd, but he takes them one by one and divorces them rather than accumulating, which seems sensible) Princess, lives there and demands chocolate from every volunteer who arrives. Her son, Prince, is about a year and a half old and just toddles happily around all day and gets hit by numerous footballs kicked by his older half brothers Nwabe (ADHD) and Papate (sweet little legend). There are 4 other volunteers here from UK, US and Oz. Its incredibly chilled out and the working environment is slightly surreal. I have been sat in the microfinance office for two days reading. On Monday, however, we visited a Women's group in a villiage north of here to give bookeeping training, and in the afternoon went to visit two ladies who are being given loans, Grace and Veronica, to check their books. They let me help (possibly hinder) make Banku which is a kind of stodgy sour staple eaten with a spicy fish sauce. It is mixed with a wooden spoon in a tin pot over a charcoal fire, and it is SO thick you have to hold the pot onto the stove with your feet using metal poles whilst you (attempt to) stir. I was a massive failure at this. I'm planning to go with some local government workers to visit some more women's groups to find out how they work and how we can help as there are now 4 microfinance workers which is more than is necessary.

This weekend I am going with an American girl to visit Cape Coast - an infamous slave trading port with a huge castle, we are staying in huts by the beach, and to Kakum national park where you can walk on a rope bridge through the canopy.

Will update soon. Miss you all, but having too much fun to really notice!