New Journal (8/22)

Start of a new journal. Thanks to Micah for the one I just finished and Melissa for the one I'm starting. In the theme of this new journal I'm going to start it with a collection of stories, in no particular order, that for one reason or another I have yet to mention:

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Lost in Tamale
So as I mentioned in the last post, I came to Tamale the night before my trip back down south, and decided to explore. After touching base at the TSO (Tamale Sub Office) I dropped my things and headed into town. The driver that left me at the TSO knew exactly where it was, so I assumed others did as well (mistake #1). When I dropped my things I decided to take a load off, and leave everything, including directions back (mistake #2). So after my stroll I asked the taxi driver to drop me at hospital road, the small road I thought the office was on, and the only piece of identifying information I remembered from Allison's amazingly detailed directions sheet. Turns out that hospital road is the name for the main arterial that runs through Tamale for that particular segment. So I got off, lost but with nowhere to be (so does that really make me lost?) and I started wandering.

As clouds started gathering two women crossing hospital road shouted for my attention. My instincts told me to ignore them and keep walking, but I remembered where I was and so I stopped, introduced myself, and admitted I was lost, but not in a rush. They looked up at the sky and said "oh! but the rain will beat you!" I looked up and nodded in agreement. "Come with us, we'll take you to our home until the rain passes."

18+ years of training in Miami taught me that this was probably not a good idea, so naturally my response was "sure, sounds like fun!"

They led me through a maze of houses till we finally reached the compound they lived in. The 2 of them shared a bedroom and common area that combined was probably smaller than my bedroom here in Ghana. The place however was very cozy, welcoming, and since the rain had started hard just as we arrived, thankfully dry. The common area was only about 4 feet long by about 12 feet wide stacked mostly with cooking supplies, and more pots than it seemed two people could use in a lifetime. We sat down and one of them says "Well I'm going to prepare some Tized. (TEE-zed) I'll be back in a few."

It's funny how being a wingman is the same cross-cultures. I've "gone to make tized" many times. Or hoped friends would find something to cook as well. Sure enough my analysis was spot on. When she left we talked for about 5 minutes and she said

"Let me show you pictures of my sister's wedding."
(...seems harmless enough...)
"She married a white man."
(I KNEW IT!)

We looked through pictures together and she told me about how they fell in love after meeting at Mole (MOE-lay) national park. I pointed out to her (and another cultural note for all of you) that while Ghanaians are extremely friendly people, they hardly EVER smile in pictures.

As the rain started slowing she armed herself with every type of cupid arrow she could think of and started a rapid-fire:
"Are you married?" No (I'm an idiot! and big mistake #3)
"You know Ghanaians make excellent wives"
"Have you been to Mole? We should go sometime."
"Next time you visit I'll cook for you"

I somehow dodged every bullet with moderate grace and when the rain stopped she escorted me to the road. By this point Allison, the PCVL (Peace Corps Volunteer Leader, the person who runs the TSO) had txted me some more detailed directions to the TSO and I made my way back. My potential suitor seemed disappointed that I wouldn't help her re-enact her sister's fairy tale, but like I told her when she asked "Will I see you again?" and I replied "Probably not"

The best part about life, and why I love Ghana so much is just talking and meeting people. You dont need to ever interact again for it to be a great time or memory. And because of her that day was great. I thanked her for it, and moved on to the next one.