It is rare to get a Ghanaian to smile for a picture.  This young man let Marsha take his picture several times and actually smiled at her for one of the photos.   And he didn’t ask for money. 

I mentioned in my last blog the List of Ghana Unexplainables.    On Independence Avenue going north, just past the Tema Highway exchange, there is a barricade that forces all traffic one block to the east, then one block to the north, then one block to the west back to Independence Avenue.   It is an absurd detour, especially when Independence Avenue is three lanes of crowded traffic narrowing to two lanes of detour.    Visualize going toward Boise on Chinden and, for no reason, having to turn right at the YMCA intersection then immediately turning left, then left again to get back to Chinden.  Anyone who has lived here in Accra knows of this barricade.  It is unexplainable because there is no reason to have a barricade in this location.  There is no road construction within a mile.  Some days the barricade is in place and other days it is not.  There is no predictability to when it will be in place.  It will be up when traffic is heaviest and down when traffic is light, and vice versa.  It is obvious it needs to be on the LGU.

Marsha and I were driving up Independence Avenue last week and I readied my camera to photograph the barricade.  I was going to put it in this blog.  To my astonishment the barricade was not there.  I was disappointed.   It obviously can’t be on the LGU now.  Too bad.  I was ready to designate it number one on the list. 

Periodically I have to take care of missionaries with ingrown toenails.  Last week Marsha and I traveled with the Petersens, a missionary couple from Arizona, to Busua Beach, a five hour drive west from Accra toward Cote d’Ivoire.   After two days at Busua Beach we drove back to Cape Coast and stayed there for two days.  While in Cape Coast I treated four missionaries with ingrown toenails.   These are pictures of our mobile ENT (Ears, Nose and Toes) van and surgery being performed out of the second seat.

I am going to post a number of pictures taken at Busua Beach.  It is a lovely beach.  Too bad it is a five hour drive away.  July must be off season because there were very few people at the resort.  The beach is quite clean.  There are no rocks and no coral.  One can walk out fifty yards into the water on soft sand.  And the shells are plentiful.  At the west end of the beach is a fishing village.  We had a very enjoyable, relaxing two days. 

This was taken from the front porch of our room.

As we were leaving Busua Beach we encountered a variation of the self-appointed road tax collectors that are common in Ghana.  Let me provide background information on the ones we experience in Accra.  There are three traffic rules for intersections in Accra.  Rule #1:  if the lights are working obey the lights.  Rule #2:  if the lights are not working and a police officer is present and is directing traffic obey the police officer.  Rule #3:  if the lights are not working and there is not a police officer present then there are no rules.  In this third situation one will frequently find what I designate as a self-appointed road tax collector, a volunteer just trying to “help out.”  This is an enterprising man, most of the time a young man but occasionally an older one, who will move into the middle of the intersection and start directing traffic, at a price.   He often has a helper that works with him.  As a car proceeds through the intersection according to the volunteer’s direction he, or his helper, will gesture you with hand signals that a payment needs to be made for the assistance.  It is a non government road tax. These men get pretty aggressive, to the point of standing in front of you (especially if you are white.)  I have been told, but have not seen, that similar volunteers will direct cars through and around water accumulations after a rain and demand payment.  On our way out of the Busua Beach Resort we encountered two groups of young men who had filled in a few potholes with dirt and were stopping traffic demanding payment for their work.  Pay the road tax or you don’t get to pass.  We had to patiently and slowly drive through them as they stood in front of the car trying to stop us and walked along the side of the car slapping at our windows.  

We spent Saturday and Sunday at the Elmina Bay Resort.  There are only three nice accommodations in the Cape Coast/Elmina area.  (May 17 blog:  “Cape Coast is like Hawaii, just more goats and garbage.”)   In May we stayed at the Elmina Beach Resort which was OK, but about 10 years behind on maintenance (such as showers that didn’t work.)   The Coconut Grove Resort is a little nicer but still dated.  The Elmina Bay Resort is new, in fact two of the nine quadriplexes are still under construction.  The rooms are very nice, clean, and comfortable.  And they have showers that work.  These are the nicest hotel rooms we’ve seen so far in Ghana.  We did notice one inconvenience that probably needs to go on the List of Ghana Unexplainables.  The shower had hot water but the bathroom sink did not.  When I looked under the sink/vanity there was only one water supply line (obviously the cold) and it was split to supply both the hot water faucet and the cold water faucet.  Why would you build a bathroom and supply hot water to the shower and not supply the sink which is just three feet away?  Unexplainable. 

The grounds around the Elmina Bay Resort are new with immature vegetation.  The pool is very nice.  The beach to the west is like Busua, very clean with gentle breaking waves and a moderate number of small shells.  The beach to the east toward the Coconut Grove Resort, however, is rocky with waves that come crashing over the rocks.  Here are some photographs.

This was taken from the balcony of our room.

I need to describe, again, the road between Accra and Cape Coast.  I wrote about it in my May 17 blog.  I described the countless numbers of speed bumps.  Here is an example of one of them.

I will recommend, again, that the country’s motto should be Ghana, the Land of Speed Bumps, or at least it should be the informal name of the Accra to Cape coast highway.   This is also the road that I described as having the Overspeeding Kills signs.  Here is an example of the signs. 

Two incidents on this last trip made it obvious to me why there is a need for some serious vehicle speed control on this highway.   On our way out from Accra to Cape Coast we came across an example of the danger on this road.  We were about 15 km from Cape Coast coming up a slight hill when we noted about a dozen vehicles stopped along the right side of the road.  All of the passing traffic slowed down.  As we drove by the stopped cars we could see off of the shoulder of the road, about 20 meters down into a ravine, at the end of a swath of flattened elephant grass, an upside down vehicle.  It appeared to be either a small bus or a tro-tro.  We didn’t have time to note details and we didn’t feel it appropriate to stop but we could tell that this vehicle went off the edge of the road at a pretty high rate of speed, took out 20 meters of vegetation and flipped onto its top.  I’m sure there must have been fatalities.  No one (except us) uses seat belts in Ghana.  The tro-tros don’t even have them.  About an hour and a half later we witnessed a second example of the dangers on this road.   We were just outside of Takoradi.  As we rounded a bend in the road we came to a second area with a lot of stopped cars.  This time it was an accident with a jackknifed 18 wheeler, turned on its side, and by the appearance of the surrounding vegetation, it had slid  down the road on its side, the trailer pushing the truck, for 50 meters and then eventually off the edge of the road.   I’d like to think this was due to overspeeding but I would bet it more likely to be a consequence of failure of the electric brakes on the trailer.  I am appalled at the poor condition of the trucks and truck/trailers that drive the highways here in Ghana.  There must not be any required inspection service to check for things such as electric brakes.  About two weeks ago Marsha and I drove from the MTC in Tema back to Accra at 10 p.m.  We passed four trucks and truck/trailers on this 20 km of highway that didn’t have marker lights, or didn’t have marker lights or brake lights, or one that didn’t have marker lights and didn’t have headlights.   How does a truck like this not attract the attention of police?  It is an accident getting ready to happen.  I can’t imagine that any of these trucks without marker lights had electric brakes that worked properly.  It has now become very scary to us to see one of these big trucks coming towards us on the road knowing that it might not have adequate braking.  Maybe there needs to be some new road signs warning about the lethal potential of inadequate electric trailer brakes.   

On a lighter note I need to describe the beautiful geography seen along this highway.   It is very green (obviously the rainy season).  The hills are moderate sized and smoothly rolling for the most part with occasional visible rock outcroppings.   It looks much like the hills of central/south Missouri, except the vegetation is different.  The most common trees along the roadside appear to be a locust type tree, moderate in size (10 – 20 feet tall), and growing very close to each other.  These have obviously been planted after the road construction was completed.  Farther away from the road the trees are much bigger.  The tallest trees are the Kapok trees.  These are magnificent trees.  They dominate the landscape.  They grow as individual trees standing alone, looking like sentinels.  They can be seen from a long distance away.  They have large, straight trunks with horizontal branches that take off from the trunk about 30 – 40 feet up from the base.  The dense canopies are magnificent.  One looks at this tree and can imagine an entire community of animals living in the canopy.  The roots are large and visible at the base of the tree, taking off from the tree 10 – 15 feet from the bottom and extending in many directions, like supporting guy wires for a large tower.  I’ll put some pictures here so you can see what I’m describing.  The first picture is taken from about 100 yards away.  The second tree is in Aburi Gardens and Marsha and I are standing between the roots.  

Other trees, smaller in size, are interspersed among the Kapoks, but they are all dwarfed by the Kapoks.  Some of these smaller trees are fruit trees (papaya and mango.)  I do not recognize the others.  Elephant grass fills in all the areas between the trees.  The grass is everywhere.  It must be like a weed.  It is 6 to 10 feet tall and dense enough that one could not walk through it without having to cut it down.  It waves with the breezes like the gentle rolling of a green ocean in the afternoon.  The elephant grass grows right up to the edge of the road.  On this trip we noticed a lot of men with machetes cutting the elephant grass from the edge of the road  back about 10 feet.  Each of the men had a machete in one hand and a snake stick in the other.  Before cutting into the grass the men would poke into it several times, checking for snakes.  Yikes!  I hope they get hazard pay for this kind of work.  

One last story.  I’m sure you’ll think I’m making this up.  I really should have President and Sister Froerer tell it.  They shared it with us.  (Buck and Kathy Froerer are the couple in charge of the Tema Missionary Training Center.)  About two weeks ago one of the guards at the MTC killed an alligator in the parking lot.  Yes, you heard what I said.  An alligator.  An alligator in the parking lot right in front of the building entrance.  According to Salasi,  a female employee who has worked at the MTC since it opened in 2002, this is the eighth alligator that has been killed at the MTC.  They come from a small stream behind the MTC and somehow get into the guarded compound (through the storm drains?) looking for garbage.  Salasi said that if the front doors are not closed at night they will come into the building.  So much for worrying about cockroaches. 

This alligator was a small one, only about four feet in length.  The guard was quite pleased with the kill.  He was planning on taking it home for his family.  “Tastes like chicken.” (That’s what I’m told he said.)  Here’s a picture of the guard with the alligator.

You will probably look at the picture and say “looks like a lizard” just as I did.  But the guard said it was an alligator based upon the position of its feet.  It doesn’t look very big at all, but if I were President and Sister Froerer I would probably lie awake at night wondering where in the stream behind the MTC is this little one’s mother or father and whether he or she would come looking for the lost baby.  Are the front doors locked?  Gunnar told us that when he lived in Florida he was taught that you assume every body of water in Florida has an alligator in it.  When Karen Blixen lived in Africa (the book Out of Africa) she built a pond on her farm and years later had to kill an alligator in the pond.  The only body of water that the alligator could have come from was many miles away.  These critters are obviously quite resourceful. 

Marsha and I want to thank family and friends who have recently sent us packages, letters, and e-mails.  It has been like Christmas in July.  Thank you very much.

Mid July 2010

“There is a lovely road that runs from Ixopo into the hills.”

Each of us has a book, or perhaps several books, that we consider our favorite(s).  I first read Cry, the Beloved Country in college.  Although it was not written with a political purpose the book was required reading in many college contemporary issue classes because of its portrayal of 20^th century South Africa apartheid.   I don’t recall the book provoking profound emotions regarding racial inequality or providing any stimulus for social action.  I do recall being caught up with the poetic quality of the writing and the vivid descriptions of the landscapes.  In my mind I could visualize the beauty of the described African geography.  I knew when I finished it I would read it again.  And I have.  I’ve read it many times, most recently last month.   This is the opening line:  “There is a lovely road that runs from Ixopo into the hills.”  The above photo captures perfectly the mental image I have carried for over forty years of a lovely road that runs into the hills of Africa. 

In case anyone is interested here are four good books about Africa:  Cry, the Beloved Country, West With the Night, Out of Africa (resist the temptation to watch the movie instead) and The Poisonwood Bible (the last 100 pages or so are a little weak.)

I forgot to mention in my last note that Marsha and I celebrated United States Independence Day at the US Ambassador’s home here in Ghana.   Well, it really wasn’t the 4^th of July.  It was the 30^th of June.   We were invited because I’ve come to know the medical staff at the US Embassy and had recently made a special trip to the embassy to see a senior Army officer assigned to the embassy who had an ENT complaint.

We didn’t have fireworks but we did have American hot dogs and potato salad which had been flown in, I’m sure, at great taxpayer expense.  Other food was available, but who would want roast beef, chicken kabobs, or fish when you could have a genuine American hotdog with Ghanaian mustard?  I had two hot dogs.  Marsha even had one.  There were long lines waiting for the gourmet food but no lines for the hot dogs. 

The US ambassador, Ambassador Teitelbaum, is a short man who looks a lot like Danny DeVito.  His wife, Ms. Julianna Lindsey, is equally short, very pregnant, and, thank goodness, doesn’t look like Danny DeVito.   The ambassador stood in the receiving line wearing a white panama hat with his chief of staff to his left and the senior military officer for the embassy next to the left.  A photographer took pictures of each invitee shaking the ambassador’s hand.  Ms. Lindsey did not stand in line.  We each had about 20 seconds with the ambassador and then were shuttled on down the line.  It’s difficult to say much of anything significant to a US ambassador when you have only twenty seconds and you know he is going to start with something like “I’m glad you could come.”   Beyond “thank you for the invitation, we are honored to be here” what do you say?  “Nice hat.”  “Great house you’ve got here.”  “The hot dogs smell great.” 

The invitations were numbered.  Ours was number 871.  I suspect there were at least that many people present.   Probably three fourths of those present were Ghanaians.  (None of them were in the hot dog line.)  There were many dignitaries.  Marsha and I stood next to Jerry Rawlings, a former president of Ghana, who took over the government two times by military coup.  He’s a bigger man than I had suspected.  After the food the Marine Corps presented the colors, Ambassador Teitelbaum gave a speech and the attorney general for Ghana, representing the president of Ghana, gave a response.  Both speeches outlined the details of the long and stable relationship between the United States and Ghana.  I learned a few things.  Here’s some trivia for next time your dinner conversation starts to drag.   The US is the number two investor in Ghana, second only to Great Britain.  This surprised me, because China is currently building, and has built, a lot of Ghana infrastructure.  There is a new government complex on Independence Avenue that was built by the Chinese.  The government of Ghana has not moved into it.  We call it the Empty Palace.  

There are over 20,000 students from Ghana studying in the US.  There are approximately 2000 students from the US studying in Ghana.  When the Peace Corps was organized in the 1960’s its first project was in Ghana.   The Peace Corps has been here on a continuous basis since then, almost fifty years. 

As Marsha and I were enjoying our food one of the ambassador’s two dogs (a large black dog similar in build to a German Shepherd but with floppy ears) made a break from his handlers and headed for the gourmet food.  He was able to successfully snatch some chicken before being caught and pulled back to his place of assignment.  For a few moments, while running free, he caused a lot of commotion.  All of the Ghanaians were shrieking, especially the women, fearful of this animal.  Marsha wanted to pet him. 

I would like to show some pictures of the ambassador’s party but here’s why I can’t. Note the red sign.

 Here’s an update on the Ghana Tomato Project.  Our two tomatoes Justice and Mercy have been growing for two months.  There must be some profound cosmic meaning to this but Mercy is starting to bloom this week and Justice is dying.   Something is chewing away at Justice’s main stem at the base.  About one half of the circumference is gone.  We can’t see any evidence of what is doing it.  I’m tempted to spray Mercy with permethrin (a real potent bug killer) but I’ve got a hunch that anything that can kill all insects on contact is probably not a good ingredient in tomatoes for human consumption.  

 Here’s a picture of our peas.  They seem to be doing well and are starting to blossom. 

 I am going  to start a List of Ghana Unexplainables.  Here’s the first subject.  This is a picture of the entrance to the pool a month ago. The bougainvillea covered the entrance.

The second picture was taken four days ago.

I know that some of the exterior surfaces around the complex are being painted but I cannot explain why the beautiful fuchsia bougainvillea had to be completely removed.  The grounds crew did not save any of it.  Just chopped it all down, cut it up and stacked it for disposal. 

Maybe it was national“Trim the Hedges Day” and I missed the memo.  On the same day that the bougainvillea was taken out we drove to the MTC in Tema and noted that the trees in the median were being “trimmed.”  This is too bad.  With the beginning of the rain everything has turned green.  The trees on the Tema highway median have all thickened and become very beautiful.  The first picture is what they looked like before their haircuts.

 The second picture has a lot of blur but you can see what they look like without any green.  No one can explain why they are being trimmed.  Therefore, the List of Ghana Unexplainables. 

This second item belongs on the List of Ghana Unexplainables as well.  It is a picture taken on the Achimoto highway just as you enter the Accra city limits.  I have asked several people what the “Accra Girls” means.  No one can explain it.  I am afraid to ask what the "Pig Farm” means.   I don’t think that this picture should be included in a Ghana travel guide. 

I don’t have anything to say this week about the World Cup.  I was impressed with how quickly the Ghanaians lost interest in the tournament once Ghana was eliminated.  It happened over night.  It was like a three ring travelling circus had been in town for several weeks and left.  Everyone had been to the circus so no one needed to talk about it any more.  I asked several people at work who they might be cheering for in the final match between the Netherlands and Spain.  The response was mixed between the two teams.  One employee asked who was in the match.  He didn’t know. 

Last item:  I’ve come to really love this commonly heard Ghanaian phrase.  “Yes, please.”  We hear it all the time.  It is a greeting.  One of the maids working here in the apartment complex when greeted with a “good morning”  always responds with “yes, please.”  It is used as a request.  At her fruit stand Ruth will watch us as we look over the fruit and, at the moment she knows we are ready to order, will prompt our order by saying “yes, please.”   I hear it most frequently in conversation when the person to whom I’m talking doesn’t understand my questions.  I occasionally go out to talk to the guards at the apartment complex gate.  Some of them understand me and we have meaningful talks.  But some just don’t understand me and are not about to interrupt our conversation by indicating they do not understand.    “Do you think it might rain?”  “Yes, please.”  It looks like its going to be a hot day, what do you think.?”  “Yes, please.”  “How is your family?”  “Yes, please.”  “Do you think the Dow Jones will break 12,000 today?”  “Yes, please.” 

Think how simple and easy human relationships would be if we were all quick to use “yes, please.”

We took this picture last week.  We asked this little girl’s mother if we could take the girl’s picture.  It took several tries before the little girl would look at us.  She reminded us of our granddaughter Ava. 

"Yes, please."

1 July 2010

This woman walked through the traffic which had slowed near the 37^th Hospital tro-tro station.  She had a shopping bag in her right hand and was holding her daughter with her left hand.  She had her baby on her back.  And she had a suitcase on her head.  She was obviously going somewhere on a trip.  Gives new meaning to Carry On Luggage, doesn’t it? 

I jokingly tell people that when you live in Africa you become part of the food chain.  I am now a believer.  I woke up last Thursday and noticed that my left cheek along my jaw line was sore.  I couldn’t see anything so I didn’t think much about it.  It felt tender when I shaved.  By mid day I noticed that I had welts along the jaw line toward my chin and a lot of itching.  I still couldn’t see much in the mirror.  I started putting hydrocortisone cream on the welts.  By Friday morning I had more swelling and the beginnings of an area of central necrosis (tissue death.)  It’s pretty obvious that something chewed on my cheek Wednesday night.  I have now developed a central area of hard swelling that is very painful.  I asked one of the African doctors I know what he thought about my “bite”.  He was not very impressed and shrugged his shoulders, as if to say “you’re worried about that little weeney bite???”  I’ve done my medical reading.  I’m sure I’ve got a Tumbu fly larva growing in my cheek.  We’ll know in 10 – 12 days when the larva matures and can be extracted from the wound.  If it’s not a Tumbu fly larva then it must have been some aggressive flesh eating spider.   This is what my "little weeney bite" looks like after a week.  It is very uncomfortable.  

Speaking of the food chain in Africa, being consumed by others is not limited to animals.  It also exists in the plant kingdom.  This next picture is a little hard to see but it is a kapok tree with a parasite tree wrapped around the outside.   We saw this near Wli falls.   Our guide indicated that the parasite tree is called a “blackberry tree” (that’s what it sounded like to me) and it grows on the outside of the kapok tree, wrapping around it and eventually cutting off the kapok’s nutrition, killing the tree.  The outside of the kapok tree remains intact and provides structural support to the parasite tree.   The parasite tree then grows supported by, but not competing with, the kapok tree. 

Last Thursday I spent a half day at Korle Bu in the ENT clinic.  It was a little slow because I think everyone, including myself, didn’t really know how it would work out.  I met many of the staff, most of the faculty and one of the residents – way too many names to remember.  The female nurses/staff are called either “sister” or “auntie.”  (Does one graduate from sister to auntie with age or experience?  I don’t know.)  I couldn’t catch what they called the nursing students who seemed to be everywhere. 

I have described the Korle Bu facility before.  The clinic is on the second floor of a building built by the British at the close of WWI.  It doesn’t appear to have been remodeled since its construction.  To get to the ENT clinic one walks up a front set of stairs and turns to either side to an outside waiting room, covered but open to the air on three sides.  There is a small enclosed financial office.  (Remember, you pay before being seen.)   There is a portable reception desk at the end of the waiting room near two doors that lead to hallways with five examination rooms per hallway.  The examination rooms are small and cramped with a patient, a doctor, a nurse and several nursing students.  The examination chairs are straight back sitting chairs.  The examination lamps are bare bulbs on goose necks.  The doctors use head mirrors with bands so worn that they are covered with duct tape.  The clinic had an operating microscope but I struggled to get it working.  It really needs a lot of lubricant.  The joints grind with movement.  I am not discouraged, though.  The staff make up for their facility/equipment limitations by the enthusiasm for their work and their willingness to learn.  This is a picture of Dr. Kitcher, the department chief, on my right, and Dr. Jangu, the faculty member that I am to train in otology this next year, on my left.  Dr. Jangu will be in charge of teaching otology when I leave in a year. 

It was raining lightly on Friday morning.  We thought we’d wait for it to stop before we left the apartment to walk to the car to go to work.  The rain picked up.  So we waited.  An hour later we were still waiting for the rain to stop.  I stood in our front doorway looking at our balcony.  I couldn’t step off onto the balcony because there was a pool of water on the balcony and I didn’t have galoshes.   It made me remember my predecessor’s (Dr. Mark Stubbs) recommendation that I bring shoes that can “get wet.”   I thought he meant shoes that could tolerate walking across pavement when it is raining, not wading through pools.   The rain eventually slowed enough that we could tip toe across the balcony to the steps and get on our way.

While I was standing in the doorway watching this downpour I took some pictures of my garden.  I need to first show a picture of my tomatoes with their new cages.

I made the cages two weeks ago of tree branches and string.  Pretty clever, huh?   The second picture is my tomatoes with their rain gear on. 

A couple of follow up comments on the World Cup.  If you didn’t know it already, Ghana beat the USA on Saturday.  Probably ho hum information for most Americans.  Not for the Ghanaians.  The victory is immense.  Everyone is talking about it.  It represents the little country beating the world power, despite the fact that in reality the USA is not a team to be feared in international soccer competition.  It’s not like Ghana beat Brazil.  One of the guards here at the apartment complex tried to extend his condolences to us for the USA’s loss but he couldn’t express it in English.  Each time he tried he would get part way into a sentence, stop, think about what he was trying to say, grin and then blurt out “Ghana won!”   

I have decided that my last blog was inaccurate when I tried to describe the intense EXCITEMENT of soccer, I mean football.  I feel it would be more proper to describe the emotion of the game as intense ANTICIPATION.  There is a lot of heart racing waiting for the favorite team to score a goal.  It’s a lot like deep sea fishing – each time you cast out your line you know that you are going to catch a huge salmon. Your heart begins to race with anticipation. When you reel in your line with nothing on it you are only briefly disappointed.   You immediately cast out the line again knowing that you are definitely going to catch the big one this next time.  The World Cup matches are the same emotion.  Each time the team brings the ball into scoring position you know that they are going to score.  When they don’t you know that they will do it the next time they have possession.   I wonder how many soccer fans fish for salmon.  It would be an interesting study.  Not really.

I was disappointed last Friday night watching Brazil play Portugal.  In case you don’t know (and you would have to be an alien from another planet to not know) Brazil is considered the best soccer team in the world, or maybe the universe.  They are the New York Yankees of the soccer world.   In fact I understand that their motto is the same as the Yankees:  melhor o dinheiro pode comprar equipe (that’s Portuguese for “the best team money can buy.”)  When Brazil plays there is always a lot of hype.  Just like the Yankees.  The sports channel carrying the World Cup here in Ghana advertised this match between Brazil and Portugal as “the best of the first round, don’t miss it.”   Marsha and I didn’t miss it.    It sounded like it would be a good Friday night date.  We settled onto the couch at the beginning of the match and could immediately feel the intense ANTICIPATION of the game.  The ball went back and forth many, many times.  Each time Brazil had the ball we knew that they would score.  Ninety four minutes later, when the match ended 0 – 0, we decided perhaps we should have played Nertz for two hours instead.  Or gone salmon fishing.  What a disappointment.    I must admit, however, I really love the Brazil team.  Who wouldn’t love a team that has a goalkeeper named Julio Cesar, and stars that are so good they go by single names such as Lucio, Josue, Nilmar, Robinho and Kaka (he was red carded in the Portugal match – bad boy)?  And get this, they are coached by a man named Dunga.  Not Mr. Dunga, just Dunga.   (I am going to suppress any impulse to make a comment about the names Kaka and Dunga.  It would not be appropriate to laugh at the best soccer team in the universe.)   It would be hilarious if Brazil had a little guy with pointed ears named Yoda.  Think of the fear they could provoke in their opponents.   "Just use The Force, Luke, I mean Lucio." I think the Yankees need to follow the example of Brazil and let their Super Stars (the $$$$$ players) wear uniforms with single names on their backs such as AROD and DEREK.  

I fear that I am giving you the wrong impression that Marsha and I sit in front of the TV, or play Nertz, or go salmon fishing, all the time.  We don’t.  We actually watched only the first 20 minutes of the Brazil-Portugal match and then did other things, periodically checking the score, which obviously didn’t change.  We will be cheering for Ghana this coming Friday in their match against Uruguay.  I will be wearing this hat while cheering for the Black Stars.

I mentioned a month ago the availability of fruit – the mangos, the papayas, the pineapples, and the bananas.  We do enjoy easy access and affordability of such fruit.  We count it as a blessing each day.  Right after I made that blog entry Marsha and I were in Shoprite and I noticed they had fresh strawberries and raspberries.  The strawberries were Ghc 23 ($15.86) for a medium container and the raspberries were GHc 8 ($5.51) for a small container.  We both stared at the strawberries and raspberries.  Daily mangos, papayas, pineapples and bananas are wonderful but for us June and July are synonymous with strawberries and raspberries.  It’s not summer without strawberry short cake when the strawberries are freshly picked and cooled and the whipping cream is just the perfect texture and temperature, Marie Callender strawberry pies, and homemade vanilla ice cream with fresh raspberries.  Yum.  Just describing it makes me salivate.  We bought the raspberries.  Why not, it’s summer isn’t it?  We temporarily forgot that every fruit or vegetable you can’t peel or heat to boiling you have to bleach.  This is what raspberries look like after soaking in a Clorox solution.

Despite the raspberries being expensive (24 cents per berry) and Clorox turning them into mushballs we savored each one, eating them, slowly, one by one, letting the flavor magically transport us to a warm summer evening at home, out on the back patio, with a favorite summer dessert.   Enjoy your strawberries and raspberries.

I’ve got to close.   Anyone who has lived in Accra knows that you cannot consider yourself a veteran of the city until you have been to Makola Market.  We went to the market for the first time last week.  We took Florence (she cleans our apartment weekly; we have become good friends.)  It was raining.  The sights and the sounds and the smells are overwhelming.  The rain amplified the smells.  I would try to describe our experience but it is impossible to put it together in words.  We needed to purchase two items.  Florence guided us through the narrow streets, the cramped stalls, the mass of people, and took us to the first vendor who had exactly what we needed.  We stood in the rain and listened to Florence argue prices with the vendor.  After a minute of animated argument I produced the exact money to support Florence’s offer.  I showed it to the vendor.  He stopped arguing and took it immediately.  The second vendor didn’t have exactly what we needed and promised he would have the item in 48 hours.  Florence indicated to the vendor she would return in two days and pick up the item.  I paid for the item and we returned, once again through the narrow streets, the crowded stalls, and the mass of people to our car.  Inside the car I asked Florence if it was safe to have“prepurchased” the second item.  She didn’t pause with her response.  “Yes, he knows I can find him.”  When we got back to the apartment we took our shoes off to clean the red mud and our clothes off to wash them.  It had been a surreal experience.  Only a video recorder on my shoulder would have been able to capture this experience (and it would have missed the smells.)   I don’t know if I can ever put together words to describe it.  I think I’ll ask Florence if she would go back with me sometime and obtain permission to take pictures of the market.  Not when it's raining, though.

Last item:  we had another experience this week that makes us true Ghanaians.  Once again, anyone who has lived here will understand.  I’m going to call it Ghanaian Car Weaving, or Motor Macrame.  We’ve come across it before, but this was the first time we were in the center of it.  Here’s how it works.  (You’ll need to visualize this in your mind.  Think of an intersection with two streets perpendicular to each other.  The street you are on has a stop sign.  You are stopped.  The street perpendicular to you has crossing traffic without stop signs, and the traffic opposite you has a stop sign.   Can you see it in your mind?  Add to this mental image narrow two way streets, potholes, and  minimal shoulders.)  We were the first car at this intersection.  We stopped with two cars behind us.  One car was opposite us, similarly stopped.  Three crossing cars were coming toward the intersection from our left, and two cars were coming from our right.  I decided to wait for the cars to my left and right to pass.  The driver behind me decided not to wait.  He wanted to turn left so he pulled from behind me thinking he could beat the cross traffic. He started into the intersection.  At the exact same moment the car opposite me thought he could beat traffic and shoot across the intersection.  The initial move in Car Weaving requires that two cars come to a stop facing each other in the middle of an intersection.  This is what happened.  The car pulling out from behind me and the car opposite came face to face in the intersection and stopped.  They started honking their horns.  The second move in Car Weaving is to add the opposite sides.  You can easily imagine how this happens.  The first crossing car to my left pulled up to the stopped cars, and started honking his horn.  The first crossing car to my right did the same thing.  The crossing cars behind each of them tried to go around the stopped cars by moving into the opposite lane or onto the shoulder only to find their paths blocked.  They started honking their horns.  And then a third car behind me figured he didn’t want to miss the action so he pulled around me to the right and tried to skirt the intersection, only to find his path blocked.  At this moment there were 10 cars in one intersection, all stopped, and honking.   Honking must be the antidote for driver stupidity.   It took several minutes for the Car Weaving to untangle.  We were the first at the intersection and the last to eventually cross it.  But what the heck.  We had just experienced Ghanaian Car Weaving.  People riding the bumper cars at an amusement  park pay money for such an experience. 

Have a good 4th of July weekend.  Wave those flags.