Oh, oh dear.

Happy New Year!

Or as I have been stumbling over all week: Afisha paa, the Twi version. I generally just smile and say "Happy New Year" as most of the Ghanaians I meet won't understand anything I say anyway--my accent seems incredibly foreign.

After the Egyptian falafel excursion, Elena and I made it back to the airport, and then... slept all over it for our 3 hour wait, and then boarded a plane with maybe a hundred people heading for Accra. We again watched shitty movies (The Proposal) and ate crappy food (somehow we didn't request vegetarian meals) until finally landing, exhausted but so excited.

Accra was even more humid than I remembered. Stepping off the plane was like stepping into a bathroom after someone has taken a long, hot shower in it. It was suffocating, and made us both sweat instantly. We stopped in a bathroom at the same time as an Egyptian woman popped in to sneak a secret cigarette with a small child strapped to her back (uhhhh...) and then headed for customs. Surprisingly, we got a lot more hassle than ever before and the marriage proposals were waaaaaay down (could almost give a girl a complex...)

However, some things never change. Like the way we were immediately accosted by several taxi drivers as we waited for our friend Anita to come meet us. Or that we were stared at like ghosts, but only the rudest and most ridiculous of the crowd (douchy men) would actually talk to us. Luckily we had only one small suitcase and our backpacks, so we were not harrassed by people trying to move our luggage, and we carried the ammunition that we had been to Ghana before, so those who might attempt to take advantage of us were kept (somewhat) at bay.

Anita and her friend Claytus met us at the airport and we eventually made it out to Teshi, a suburb of Accra--where Anita, her mother and her sister Senna live. At midnight we ate Jollof Rice and drank pure wata (water in plastic bags) and then thankfully went to sleep. For 13 hours.

It is truly amazing the things that have just come back to me after a year and a half away. I natually talk with a "Ghanaian" accent, and rarely use contractions when speaking with someone. The water was out (they say "the taps are not flowing" here) in Anita's house upon our arrival, and is only turned on on Wednesdays and is shut off again Thursday afternoons around 1. We have filled and hauled many buckets of water this week, but it has seemed so natural and basic. The extreme heat has been slightly harder to feel comfortable with, but it's just part of the deal.

The church part of the deal has been harder to deal with. Anita and her sister attend a large "super church" based out of Nigeria called Winner's Chapel. It pretty much encompasses everything about Christianity I despise--money making scheme, brain washing, contains promises it has no way of fulfilling, hugely judgemental--on top of the fact that I'm not so comfortable with the idea of organized Christianity in the first place. So far Elena and I have gone twice; once on New Year's Day to... celebrate the New Year (?) and then again two days later on Sunday to hear that 2010 would be a year of spiritual restoration (as well as one where we will find Ghanaian husbands, get a new car, a job promotion, a baby, etc, etc) for 5 hours. Aiyeeee! Way too much God for me this week. But this is Anita's passion, and we are her guests, so Elena and I both have been trying to keep the intense judgement of our own quiet (at least until we escape to purge our frustration) and participate as much as possible. The church thing has introduced us to many nice people, including a seamstress who will make us the most ridiculously West African outfits ever (including gigantic HATS!) to wear on our last Sunday. More to come...

I love you.