Embassy Escapade.

Of course one of the first things on my To Do list was to go to the US Embassy to register myself. I don’t really know how it works, but I imagine that if Ghana suffered a major catastrophe and the jungle was burning down, an official US black hawk helicopter would swoop into Effiduasi and rescue me in epic glory. You know, because I’m registered and all.

So yesterday after lunch, I went to the US Embassy with my ICYE escort, Annie. We took one bus (trotro) and a group taxi and walked several blocks to get to the Embassy gate. The guard politely but unapologetically informed us that the Consular Office was closed for the day and I have to return the next morning.

Strike 1.

This morning started with Twi language lessons with our teacher Morgan. After class, I jetted out, hoping to make it to the Embassy before noon. This time I went by myself, which was both nerve-wracking and empowering. I took two trotros and walked the rest of the way. Dripping sweat, I arrived at the Consular Office where the attendant told me that all registrations are done through the internet. I couldn’t register in person if I wanted to.

Strike 2.

The trip wasn’t an epic fail, however. At one of the bus stops, a woman approached me and we started talking. She knew a few Chinese words and I wondered how. It turns out that she knew some people from Ghana Textiles, a company that employed many Chinese workers including, at one time, my grandfather.

Hit.

After the lady left, a young man came to the bus stop. He was well dressed and heck, I’ll admit it, kind of cute. He said hi and asked where I was going. ‘Police Hospital,’ I said. He was going to the passport office, which is further out so instead of taking the trotro, he needed a taxi. One pulled up and he chatted with the driver for a bit. Before getting in, he turned to me and said, ‘I’ll give you a lift.’ I jumped in the backseat and scored a free ride.

Home run!

(Attention men! Take notes. I’ve never wanted to give my number to a guy. Ever. That is, until this well-dressed-passport-getting-Ghanaian-man let me mooch a free taxi ride.)

(Attention Daddy! Don’t worry, I didn’t actually give him my number. I know better than to hang out with strange men.)

Tomorrow I will leave Accra to go to Kumasi. From there, I’ll meet an ICYE volunteer who will take me to Effiduasi where my host project is. It’s a small village a little ways out of Kumasi. There, I’ll finally be meeting my host family and seeing where I’ll be living for the next six months. I can’t wait.

As promised, below are some pictures from my first days in Ghana. I’m not too camera-happy because I don’t want to be rude. The advice I’ve received is to live in a place for a bit, figure out its comings and goings and then take the camera out.

Welcome at the airport.

The street outside the volunteer house in Accra.

The shore.