Daily Life in Ghana

Hey all!

So, I thought this week I'd post some of the funny pictures acquired over the last two months.

Working at DAI, I now have to wear nicer, office clothes. However, I had not planned for this... Only three shirts and one pair of pants in my bag. Luckily, on my way home, I walk through Madina Market, a bustling place to buy whatever you need. There's food, a bakery, school supplies, and, luckily, shirts and pants!

There are several options to choose from: piles of clothes, shirts hanging from the ceiling, or walking vendors with pants on their shoulders. Personally, I explored all three. Each of the three shirts I got was 5 GHC, which is around 4 USD. However, they feel as soft as cardboard. Totally fine, they do the trick.
The pants were also an improvisation, and cost only 6 GHC. Surprisingly, they fit as if tailored for me. Of course, I have to look away from a few small holes on the leg...

For the transport part, trotros are the cheapest option. In Brazil, they would be the lotacao. It's basically a van, with a driver and a mate,  a man who coordinates the payments and calls for the stops. After 5 p.m., however, it's almost impossible to catch a trotro without some sort of "personal defense".

Imagine all these people, 75% of which trying to take the Achimota (the one I have to take too). The cars mostly don't have any signs showing where they go, so the way I know which one is Achimota is because there are people jumping through the open door several meters before the trotro even slows down.

After the initial fight, the ride is mostly peaceful. On my way home, I take two trotros for about a one and a half hour ride, total.

Riding trotros is also a great way to be exposed to some interesting situations on a daily basis. Out of the window, I've seen heated discussions, a fist fight and have gotten the usual friendly hello's.

Last Sunday, as Cam and I were waiting for the next trotro, a group of people playing drums and dancing suddenly, literally, appeared behind us. The flash mob was a funeral celebration. Within minutes, we were also handed twigs (which we still don't know what represented), and joined the fun!

Oh, for the Brazilians reading this: check out the name of the restaurant that is on my way home. The picture was taken in a speeding trotro, so hopefully it's clear enough.

Quem quer comer no Fogo de Chao?

Dressing nicely, riding trotros,


Henrique