Adventures in Akropong

The sun rises extremely early in Ghana, and Akropong is home to about ten thousand roosters and maybe five thousand goats (well, maybe more like ten roosters and five goats near our hostel), and they made so much noise that I woke up at 6:15am on Monday morning. What's a girl to do, when breakfast is at 8, and no one else is awake? I decided to explore the area, so I followed the sound of the goats behind the hostel, and met a girl named Chaarezie, who is 13 years old. I asked her what she was doing that morning, and if I could follow her around on her chores. She said yes, that she was going to sweep, and that I could help her. The brooms here look like they're made from a bunch of extremely long pine needles, bound at the top. It is some kind of branch or switch that is about 1.5 feet long. So I swept, and then when we were done sweeping, we carried water, which they got from a well. Apparently, I am not competent enough to carry water upon my head, so I got to carry it by my side in a bucket like the 6-year-old girls. Even then, I spilled it a little bit. Such is life. At this point, I had to eat breakfast, so I left with promises to "go and come" (the Ghanaian colloquial for "return") later that day.

About 4pm on Monday afternoon I went to Chaarezie's house where her mom and siblings were making Fou-Fou. Fou-Fou is a sticky pounded casava and plantain ball which is dipped into a broth. It is similar to the Sudza which I ate in Mozambique. It was getting close to dinner time, and I wasn't sure about the proper protocol for guests and mealtime. I guess I just wanted to find out what would happen if I stayed. So, after a minute of awkward uneasieness, we established that I was supposed to stay for dinner. At this time, it dawned upon me that the mother was using water to moisten the Fou-Fou, and that I was going to have to eat the Fou-Fou. It also occurred to me at this time that I was smelling a mixture of spices and fish (neither of which I am crazy about). I was really in for it now.

Knowing that I was obliged to eat the meal which they had prepared for me, I trudged to the kitchen store-room (where they brought my very large bowl full of Fou-Fou, three cooked fish, and peppery soup) to discover what all the fuss was about. Also, I ate my meal alone, which made it even harder for me to make myself eat. I ate half of one fish and about a third of the fou-fou ball. The family kept coming in and telling me how to eat (don't chew the fou-fou, dip it into the sauce, eat more fish, etc), and eventually I told them that it was so very good, but that I was so full I could not eat any more. I am getting very good at making up lies to avoid eating.

So that was my adventure. I felt like an ungrateful oaf for not liking their food, but Ghanaian food takes some getting used to. Afterwards, I was completely and utterly convinced that I was going to be sick with any number of diseases, but Ghanaian Stomach didn't come until a few days later, and any malaise can probably be chalked up to hypochondria.