Ahh so after a long, strenuous week of volunteering I ended my weekend with some interesting traveling. Kokrobite was the destination and it was quite an experience. On a tro-tro, which is a buslike contraption that crams 24-30 people depending on how daring the driver is into a regular sized van, it took about 3 and a half hours. But it was so worth it. We stayed in a quaint hotel that was run by a spanish couple and blessedly had running water and flushing toilets. It was a great spot, with amazing food and even better drinks. The only bad thing was the drone of mozzies that ravaged my legs of any blood they could. Yet, i'm still malaria free- for now.
The real highlight of this weekend was the people. The rastafarians are an intriguing lot and as fun as they are I think I can only really handle them in small doses. "Cool like coke, fly like fanta and chilling like chicken", along with, "i'm sweating like a pregnant fish" and strange inventions like the mosquito dance are just a few of the repeated lines that the rastas use. One thing to point out before i go any further is that Ghanian males love women. In fact, the only way to adequately describe males in Ghana (and this is 95% of the guys) is that they are as persistent and irksome as that smarmy guy in a club that you just can't seem to avoid. The rastas are exactly the same. There were maybe 2 rastas on the whole trip who didn't hit on me, consequently thwey ended up being my favourite ones. The rastas use lines like, "you have a beautiful spirit," "our spirits are linked," and "black and white go well together- like a piano". These lines I heard all weekend. "Are you shy, don't be shy," Kofi asked me several times because he clearly mistook my disinterest and disdain for meekness. Martin, another rasta spent all of sunday calling me his emporess which was sad because before that I quite like talking to him. Now, you might be curious as to why I would have enjoyed a weekend with rasta's when they are equally creepy as the usual guys, and the answer is because they're rastas! When you smoke as much weed as they do (their eyes are like saucers), dance as crazily as they do, have dreds and play drums you can be forgiven for being sleazy.
The beach was also amazing. The water was refreshing from the heat and the riptides were so strong. Two of the girls I went with got caught in one and had to be rescued by rastas. There are urchin children that litter the beaches and just come and plop down next to you waiting for you to take their picture or even just smile at them. Big canoe, boat type things line up across the sand. All in all its an amazing view. (i hope to get pics up in the next week or so)
We were late coming home though on Sunday evening and were running from station to station tryin g to find a tro home. After eventually finding one we collapsed at home, resigned to another week of working. To be honest, I really wasn't looking forward to going to the daycare centre because I was a bit despondent that our work wasn't really helping anybody. As much as I enjoy the children, playing and cuddling them, its not really constructive and they would manage easily enough without my presence. But today I went to the creche room at the daycare (which is babies-11month-olds) and really enjoyed myself. It was much more looking after the kids than it was in the other class. I have the food all over my pants to prove it too! It took me an hour and a half to get one boy to sleep because every time he drifted off and I went to put him down his eyes woul pop open and his grip would tighten and I would have to do it all over again. Tomorrow, we are going to do a teeth brushing workshop and on wednesday I'll be going to the orphanage to help out which should be a more rewarding experience.
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