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The market in Accra Central

The travel home from Accra was a very long ride. We hopped on a packed and compact bus and uncomfortably rode the five hours to Abomosu. Maybe it was gratitude from being off the bus, but when we arrived, Abomosu felt like home. It was nice to be in a place that was familiar, and especially nice to stretch out my legs.

The week passed quickly for me, and I believe it is because I am no longer counting days. The day will pass by, and I am surprised when six o’clock arrives and the sun sets. I think the adjustment days are past, and the weeks will slip through my fingers as I try to do everything I want to do.

I am not sure if I said this already, but half of the reason for going to Accra was to pull out some monies. Of course, when we got there, I found that I left my debit card back in Abomosu. Allan did the same, so we borrowed some cash from our compadres and hopped we would find a way to find an ATM when we got back.

The uncomfortable bus

Our answer came when Elder Dalton offered us a ride with him to Nkawkaw (pronounced N-Co-Co). There is a sick man from the branch in a hospital out there, and Elder Dalton was going to pay a visit, being in the district presidency. Nkawkaw has several banks and ATMs, so he graciously let us come along.

The ride was bumpy at first, then a nice road appeared out of no where, and we were able to go upwards of 50 mph, something I haven’t done since we got off the airplane. The sick man’s daughter came along with us, and first thing we dropped her off so she could see her dad. Elder Dalton took us to the ATM at Barclay’s Bank then wanted to show us the market.

Markets here have a stench that, to me, is highly unpleasant; there are aromas of fish, rotten food, and stale filth. It isn’t unbearable, but every time I go, I have to adjust to the scent. At this market, it was particularly bad, especially when we went to the butcher’s shop. Elder Dalton was so excited to take us there. I was not very fond of it. The first thing you see/smell are the innards of the animals in a display bin right inside the front door. My stomached twisted a little, but eased as the stink partially subsided. The workers were extracting all of the meat from every part of the animal (I couldn’t tell what it was, but it was probably beef) in the same unsanitary way I would have imagined. All of them were working on tables that probably hadn’t been really cleaned since they opened then would shake the hands of people walking by as they worked. I sure hope I don’t eat meat that comes from there.

The rest of the market was fun. The aisles were small, and the shop owners loved having us obronis come look at their selection. Elder Dalton was purchasing food for him and his wife, and we all were keeping an eye out for fabrics we liked. The Ghanaian hand-woven fabric is called kenti, and Elder Dalton wants to purchase some to make for his wife. Most of the fabric shops have prints , but not authentic fabric. We found a small scarf of kenti that belonged to a shop owner, but we never found yards of fabric to purchase.

After the market, we visited the sick man in the hospital, who was sitting in his garments outside with just a piece of fabric wrapped around him. The men are very open with their garments, just as the people are very open with their body. Women whip out their boobs to breast feed no matter where they are, and guys pee just off the side of the road, so exposing their G’s doesn’t matter much. Chalk it up to culture, I guess.

The beautiful landscape in Nkawkaw

On the ride home, I was tired, and I tried to take a nap during the bumpy drive. Just as I was about to fall asleep, the black lady sitting next to me would hit the brim of my hat to wake me up. She did it several times, then I asked if it was bad to sleep in cars, because I would like to take a snooze. She left me alone for a while then woke me back up a short while later with a whack to my hat (but I think it was because I was starting to fall on the other lady who we offered to take home from the hospital). I later asked Douglas if it was bad to sleep in cars, and he told me that if the car was veering off of the road, you have to be awake to watch it. He also said you shouldn’t fall asleep in a taxi, but I totally understand that. But superstitiously, they will not sleep in any other vehicle.

Friday morning, Stephen told us that the medical center in town needed help, so he volunteered us to go over and assist where we could. I was typing information into a database, and Garrett was next to me extracting and printing information from a database. I finished in about an hour and a half something that probably would have taken them all day to do. None of them are very computer literate, so typing efficiently is not among the skills they possess. It was actually really fun to work there; I will probably continue to volunteer every Tuesday and Friday. (You can't tell, but the poster behind my head has "tropical disease" pictures, which are kind of graphic: Elephantiasis, testicles the size of a cantaloupe, pooping worms, you know, the rounds.)

Health center instruction

This weekend is district conference, the Ghana Accra West mission president, President Hill, presiding. I was asked to play the organ (keyboard), and I attended priesthood leadership and the adult session on Saturday. They were long sessions, but the spirit was strong and the messages were inspired. The keyboard did not work the first session, but I fixed it for the next session. I doubt they can even hear me play, but I think that those who are used to an accompaniment for hymns (white people) appreciate having somebody who can play along. One more to go on Sunday!

We chatted with Sister Hill, and she asked us if there is anybody we could recommend as couple missionaries, because the mission desperately needs some. So if you can think of anybody, let me know so I can give their names to President and Sister Hill. You can probably get out here in a jiffy! I also realized that Ghana can feel like home to anybody that serves and loves the people. I don’t know if I will be here long enough to get to that point, but I understand how immersing yourself into service can brew a culture of love and understanding for those you are serving. I’m so glad I can get a taste of it, though.