As a full time resident of Kumasi, it is impossible to avoid pushing and shoving for a tro-tro forever. About a week ago, I was forced to push my way into a corner of a tro-tro on my way home from school. The door was unable to shut because of my awkward position. The mate in this tro was about 12, and I think he was as agast to see an obruni in his tro-tro as I was to see him working at that age. I rode all the way to Boko against a sliding door that was extremely ajar. It was my scariest experience in an automobile since coming to Ghana, and I will take care not to repeat it. Tro-tro Tales will continue t
Sunday, November 25, 2012
"If I get out, so does the obruni," my brother said, in what was either a display of loyalty or a plea for my help. Either way, we got out there and took a taxi the rest of the way.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
After opening my eyes to an earsplitting alarm at 4:30 am and eating a breakfast of porridge and bread, I make my way (dressed in a school uniform, of course) to Boko station at approximately 5:30. I wait along with 70 other people for the next tro-tro. On Mondays, there are more than 100 people.
Everybody lines up super nice for the tro-tro, but when it arrives they push and shove and cut in line...it's messy. If I'm alone, I wait patiently. The trouble with waiting patiently is that it does not garuntee I will reach school on time. When I am accompanied by my host brother (most days, since he attends the same school), he does the pushing and shoving for both of us.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
compare it to the way I followed Daddy so blindly my first day in
Kumasi, it is incredible. So much happened in the month of October. I
grew so much, began so many friendships, and I will share many stories
with all you readers in time. I really do live in Ghana, you see. I've
never lived anywhere but Laporte...and what a new life it is!
(I'm so sorry for the repeated posts...I use mobile internet and my
text is limited.)
seems to show how much has happened since Mariam rescued me that night
in the rain. I now know not only what a drop taxi is, but how much
they should charge. I know not only how to get home, but how to get to
Lydia's (she has since changed host families...thats another story). I
can make my own plans and go have a heck of a good time.
From: Sarah Bibbey <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: Wed, 21 Nov 2012 01:00:39 -0800
Subject: Story of a Month (cont.)
Suddenly, a familiar sputtering sound burst from the engine. In the
middle of a roundabout, the tro screeched to a stop. The mate said
something to the passangers which clearly meant "Get out."
The three of us exited, and Lydia said "What now?"
"Drop taxi," I said. We went up to a taxi and I negotiated the fair
all by myself and got us a reasonable price, all with monkey poop on
and bang on the bars until...he picked up a piece of his own poop
which hit me right in the stomach! I laughed until I cried. (when I
was doing landury, I scrubbed that shirt until I cried. Yes, I
handwash all my clothes here)
After such a joyous day at the zoo, we boarded a trotro headed toward
Lydia's house. We enjoyed ourselves by eating springrolls (which are
more related to chimichangas than actual springrolls)
to meet and explore the Kumasi Zoo. (although I didn't mention it, I
went there on that day which lasted forever, which is featured on my
last blog post)
We photographed some wild bats, watched the parrots and lions, until
we arrived at the chimpanzees.
The chimpanzees at the Kumasi zoo are insane! They shrieked and
flipped and we were delighted. Then the old man chimp spit on us!