Days 1 & 2: Crystal Hostel and Darkuman 

I slipped into Accra in the dead of night on the 8th of May, into a hostel in Darkuman that contained only myself, four Barcelonians, three dogs, two cats, one rooster, two coconut trees, and more lizards than I could count. The picture on the left is of my hostel.

Darkuman is a clustered shantytown on the outskirts of greater Accra. There is one main road from which all others branch -- Darkuman Road, which Crystal Hostel borders halfway up the hill. Crystal is planted between an elementary school, a Guinness bar (Guinness is clearly an Accra favourite) and situated across from a hut that read 'Licensed Chemical Sellers // Beautify Shop'. Darkuman never dies -- at any time in the night there is some window shop lit selling food. For the first two days, I purchased most of my meals on Darkuman Road for about 50 cents each.

Observation 1: People are really nice in Accra. Really really nice. 
Whenever I walk down the street, everybody says "hello", "good morning", "how are you". It's considered impolite not to say something to the people you pass on the street. And if you respond to people's greetings, then they often you engage in some form of passing conversation. You get to know people quickly, and learn things about them quickly (I was known in the hostel as "little brown girl who sleeps a lot." That's okay. I like a healthy 8 hours.)

People are also really willing to help you.


On Day 2, I got lost. And by lost, I don't mean a minute form of confusion. I was making anxious laps around Darkuman Road, still two miles from the hostel, looking for the front entrance. There was an autobody shop across the road from which shirtless men were emerging like clockwork asking me to marry them. I returned home five hours later.  I returned on the back of a tro-tro (which is a metal sheet van transportation service that does not stop moving when you're supposed to get on. You have to hop.) between an old man named Ben and a young woman named Sandra who adopted me, held me obligated to four games of checkers, then took me home.

Observation 2: It's hot. 

The temperature has not dropped below 28 degrees. Everybody wears pants; bare knees are not kosher. My bedroom has an overhead wooden fan that chugs along earnestly, and still emits but a breeze.

Africa and my hair have yet to become friends. My hair is now twice its natural volume, three times as curly, and barely makes it past my ears in length. I kind of look like Sarah Jessica Parker in the third season of Sex and the City, when she cut her hair short but it maintained previous levels of poof.

I am uncertain it is the best look for either of us.


I'm having a lot of fun.
Also, I'm learning a lot about ECOWAS. That is one boss regional trade organization.