Life in Accra

It's been three days and it feels like three weeks. Not because I'm homesick, but because it's so different here. I'm staying in Accra until Thursday in the JHR house. It's refreshing to be around such like-minded people but sometimes it can feel a little too much like camp.

There's a Ghanian woman who is here everyday cleaning and she brings her two children along. The older sister holds the baby and carries buckets of water up and down the stairs. Today I saw the lady washing my clothes in a bucket. I didn't realize she would be washing them by hand. It made me feel uneasy to walk by and thank her, knowing that I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself. She is getting paid and it is a job but it seems so wrong to me - especially in a house that is geared for professionals who want to expose human rights abuses. Everyone sits around on couches, saying they feel bad. It's a tricky one. She'll get paid the same amount, whether I give her my laundry or not, so I'm buying my own detergent this afternoon.

I've never been so aware of the colour of my skin before and what it represents. Sure I've been travelling and studied race relations in school; it's always been an interest of mine. But here, being white can feel difficult. Obviously we are privileged in a monetary sense but sometimes we get discouraging glances. Louis, a rasta friend of mine said, "People who don't know what time it is hate all whites because of the slave trade. They are stuck in the past." I told him that I could understand why, considering that it really hasn't been that long since European slavery was abolished in Ghana. When I look at some people in the eye, I can tell they think I'm not a good person because I'm white, and it makes me sad because they don't know me.

But so many Ghanains have opened their hearts to us. Many are smiling all the time. When you smile at someone and they smile back, it feels like the way life should be. When I was walking back home this afternoon, this 13 year old boy (or so) said, "Hey, Canadian!" with a big toothy grin. I smiled back and said "Hey!" Barbara, who is Duncan's wife, always stops us on the street, telling us who is at home already and who has gone out. It's moments like these that make being here so amazing and I feel blessed not to be in Toronto where nobody wants to look at each other because the thought of saying hi to someone you don't know already isn't natural.

Today we went to get lunch and bought mangos and papaya on the roadside. The mangos are about the size of soccer balls and the sweetness of their bright orange flesh melts in your mouth. When we were buying drinks from a stand, a man sitting down asked me if I wanted a bite of his meal because I asked him what it was, so I had one. It was very tasty and spicy, so I have to make sure I go to the restaurant before leaving Accra.

Yesterday I had chicken soup with fufu. Fufu is casava that Ghanains smudge with a giant pestle in a large bowl and then they roll it into oval shapes. I don't dislike it, but I don't like it either. It's very filling because it's very starchy. The broth of the soup was amazing and the chicken legs were tasty. It is customary to eat with your right hand and not with your left at all (that's the wiping hand!). There is toilet paper everywhere though.

I'm the oldest one in the house and I've taken on the role of house chef. I made a huge spaghetti dinner last night and the night before. We buy fresh tomatoes on the street. They're in a pyramid shape and cost about 50 cents for about twenty five of them!

Last night we went to pick up another JHR journalist at the airport. Then we went to the beach and sat on a cliff overlooking the water. The moon beamed brightly between the willowy clouds. The sky here looks dome shaped, not flat like it is at home. The mist from the ocean fills the air and my hair is basically a big fuss ball. So I've been wearing it up most of the time. Today it is hot and sunny! But the ocean gives a nice breeze.

When we were walking up from the beach last night, there were many people sleeping under blankets in the open air. Louis said, "These people don't have a place to stay because they don't have any money." It was so sad to see because it is the rainy season now. In a shack near the sleepers we visited Louis's friend who he is organizing a huge concert with on July 30 to raise money for the poor and clean up the beach.

When you shake a Ghanains' hand, you snap your middle fingers before you release your grip. They also put their hands into fists and push them against each others (like hip hop guys!) and then bring their fists to their hearts, saying, "Bless."

Yesterday afternoon I was lying in bed rocking my mosquito net back and forth and I was so content. It dangles in a knot from the ceiling in the daytime. Sometimes I could really be doing anything and feel completely at peace. Everything is slower and people pay attention to one another.

The roosters start crowing at 2:30AM and dogs howl every time a plane passes overhead. My ear plugs and sleeping mask have come in handy.

Chickens and their chicks cluck in the brush of the street sides and you'll often see them crossing the roads (haha).

I definitely have mixed feelings about being here. Sometimes I'm so overwhelmed with emotion that I can't even cry. Sometimes I'm so at ease and wish everyone at home could see what I'm seeing. It is both good and bad to be foreign and I don't think I can articulate it now, but it feels like two emotions battling against each other.

I so wish I brought a digital camera so I could post pictures on my blog. I'll try to figure something out.

Going north to Kumasi for a night and then onto my host family's house in Tamale. I'm really looking forward to getting to work and writing, editing and putting stories to air. I've been reading the newspapers and most of the sources come from the police. One of our goals is to get more opinions from the public. Will keep you posted.