Back to the Continent

 'Tis the Eve of New Years Eve and it's the first time I've sat down to write the blog that I told my friends and family to look out for since I located to Accra, Ghana in early October. 

Since then, I've involved myself in a variety of activities and existed in various states of sweat.

Neighbourhood walk sweats 

At first, I challenged myself to wear jeans while out of my apartment because shorts get a different kind of attention here in this by-the-book predominantly Christian nation. It only took a few days of frustration for me not to care, and I really shouldn't anyways. I will wear denim shorts and athletic shorts that hit mid-thigh. I still get the "Oburoni" (foreigner/white person) quite a bit from people (usually young men and small kids) being funny. It's totally okay to be Oburoni, and it's not necessarily derogatory. And those who don't call me that, I might go further to give them a nice "hello" with consistency. I slow my pace and always say hello to Cynthia Toothpaste Lady. She sits at her table stacked high with toothpaste and brushes and she even has a nice tent to sit under. My coming allows her to share of her glorious life in Israel and all the things that are different there (it was never made clear to me what brought her there), but I really like her smile and her attention. Ghanaians to love Israel -- likely because it's Jesus' birthplace. 

Sports sweats

My lovely Canadian neighbour and fellow teacher who lives directly below me in our teacher housing has invited me to all the things she has programmed in her schedule: choir, African dance, CrossFit, softball, and innebandy. I really wanted to meet people my age here, and I knew that sports would probably have participants of the man kind. I went to one softball game and didn't want to make the investment because I can't swing. Weighing my costs, innebandy is worth the little investment it takes to be good. It's floor hockey, but no skates involved. It has nets just like soccer. I started to go to the bi-weekly games where we may start games at 5:30pm and run non-stop, playing back to back games for over an hour. I wore a grey shirt on day one. Now I wear dark colors to conceal how my shirt is basically glued with sweat to my body. I didn't really know how much my body could sweat before playing sports here. My hair is wet, even my ankles are sweating. We have a nice outdoor beer spot to sit at after the game and rehydrate with Club beers. I like this ex-pat community who plays innebandy -- there's a certain sadness to it because the members come and go as they get relocated for work/life situations. But it's also nice in that these people hang out while they live here in Accra and make friendships and relationships so quickly. Sweating profusely together in a pretty unattractive state really breaks down walls. 

Car Sweats

I cannot complain that I take Ubers/Taxis/Bolt rather than public transit because of CoVID-19 and I happen to have the means to afford private cars to keep myself safe. An average ride in town is $2-3. However, I think that the car sweats will be the most uncomfortable because you can't move to alleviate yourself. There can be some serious traffic here in Accra and if you are sitting in a leather vehicle, even with the window down, you may not get that saving breeze. Long car trips and leather seats have given me heat rash on my legs. There's always a bit of embarrassment when you get up to leave the car and you can see the glistening outline of your legs and behind on the seat. 

I like to think that my body's reaction to the heat will always be the humbling reminder that I'm not from here, no matter how much I feel like I'm really fitting in and acclimating. When I FaceTime with friends back home they notice a certain "glow" about me and although I'd like to take the compliment, it's usually a long day's accumulation of oil on my face.