Africa | Ghana | Accra – Sundays in Africa
Strange conversations I had with my Muslim friends, their names by the way Fatima, Mutia and Haminaj. They are all around their 20s and were interested in things like how many times a day do we shower, do we use a sponge or just spread the soap on, do men wash their Johnny after taking a piss (they claim that Muslim men do), Piercing Where do men and woman do, at what age I lost my virginity (Told them that I never lost. Simply gave them to my first one) etc.
Turns out they are all virgins and they reacted with disgust when I told them that virgins in the western world is a rare commodity and that sex is just sex. As a response they all said that with them it will happen only after marriage and Mutia even added that when she will get married she will have sex at least 3 times a day and every where possible. Indeed, strange conversations with 3 Muslim woman. By the way, Mutia offered to marry me and during all the time she referred to me as Husband. What a scare.
Another reason for the raised African butt. It serves as a baby stop. They all tie the baby on the back and the butt stops them from sliding down.
Ghana is heaven for those who like to eat with their hands and especially for me who eats like this even at home. Its a bit hard for them to see a white person eating with the hands (as for my mom) and they always serve me the food with a knife and fork. The food is also very spicy. Delicious.
My first bus ride. Missed the great mess of African bus stations. One bus, tens of people, hundreds of bags, thousands of bums hanging around and million flies. Every body fights for the attention of the conductor that decides whose luggage goes in the bus and who doesnt. Of course there is an extra charge for luggage. I stood on the side smiling and didnt think for a sec. to join the fight. Sometimes it pays of to be white in Africa because the conductor himself turned to me and told me to put my backpack in the bus.
What an amazing day I had today. 5:30 am and I wake up to the sound of 30 young men singing me Sunday gospel under my window. Listened to them for about half hour and since I was awake already went for a morning stroll in the town Ho that I arrived to last night. Sundays are my favorite days in Africa because they are church days. There isnt a single Sunday that I miss a mass and all because of the music. The gospel that only the local Mamas can produce with their bass voice and the young man with their alt voice.
The whole town was already in motion toward the church, dressed up in their best Sunday close. Men in long robes, left hand and shoulder bare. Woman with skirts and a matching top, mainly yellow and orange colors, and a piece of fabric wrapped around their heads. In general, the Ghanaians like to dress up and do so at every possible opportunity. I, with my shorts and T shirt, felt many times like a homeless compared to them. Most of the time I walk around with long trousers, despite the heavy heat and humidity, just because of that.
End of the mass and everybody is rushing out side. A young man, called Bright, beside me starts a conversation. After about 10 min. talk Im invited to see his house and meet the family. Brights mother, Hilla, insisted that Ill stay for lunch. At 10:30? She didnt need to insist much to convince me to stay .
The Ghanaians food is very basic and similar in all dishes. A sticky staple food, usually made of corn or cassava, that you deep in souse. Sometimes they also eat rice. We had Abolo, steamed corn Dow, dipped in a red sauce, spicy of course, with little dry fish inside. I imagine that the above description did not make your mouth water but it was really tasty. After lunch we went, Bright his 10 years old sister and me, for a walk to the near bye villages.
Quick shower and I run to watch the final game of the world football cup between Ghana and Argentina. My heart is split. On one hand, Ghana eliminated Brazil from the tournament. On the other hand, as half Brazilian I surely cant cheer for Argentina. Ghana lost.
On the way back from the game I met my first tourist since I got here. The rest of the night was so pleasure full, and will not be detailed, that she deserves to have her name mentioned here. Thank you Jessica.