Some Descriptions

Many students came here in search of making a contribution to mankind or to have a taste of a vibrant culture. Some feel let down in a way, stuck with the upper class.

Back to Madina – I wish I could offer pictures. It’s not that I don’t feel comfortable taking out my camera, it is more doing it with a huge group of foreigners. It seems somewhat like objectifying or exploiting the subjects, who are not trying to be a part of the Travel Channel. They just want to sell their goods so they have less to carry home and a little more to put on the table.

The women are beautiful subjects, wearing fitted dresses of bright colors and patterns, sometimes with a baby wrapped to their lower backs, and perfect posture from working with heavy loads balanced atop their heads.

I picked up some key Twi phrases (a popular tribal language) to bargain with the sellers. It’s a game here – with banter, laughter, teasing and some disapproving ‘tsk-tsks,’ but always ending with genuine smiles and thanks from both parties.

The children are the most amusing. Some are very wary of our unfamiliar white faces. The young girls smile brightly, glad to accept our coo-ing. The young boys either stand sheepishly, refusing to look up completely, or run over and try to snatch a lock of hair or at least get a pinch. Although the stares can be intimidating, it’s refreshing to lose the confines of being politically correct. The majority of people here are black and I am white. Is it really offensive to describe someone by skin color? It’s not a definition, just a description.

Tro-tro: the least expensive form of transportation I’ve encountered. Imagine a first timer on the New York City subway during rush hour in the Times Sq. station, but without AC or signs.
Tro-tros are small vans crammed with sweaty irritable people and driven by men who don’t like to stop completely. A ‘mate’ is also on board, who shouts indecipherably the general direction of where they are headed, or just uses hand signals. I assume the ‘pointing up’ signal means north, but since cardinal directions are entirely subjective (explanation below) I still don’t know where that is. In a land where waiting seems to be the main pastime, the tro-tro defies what is expected and is completely overwhelming.