First Weekend in Tamale

On our last night of the TICCS course we were treated to some traditional Dagombe dancers and a big Ghanaian buffet. Many of the Ghanaian dishes consist of some kind of ball of either yam, rice, cassava, or plaintain and then various soups like groundnut and pepper with either goat, chicken, pork or beef to put on top. I can't say I love this food yet but I was delighted to find a Ghanaian version of a granola bar made from groundnuts and honey.

On Saturday morning I attended T-Poly's 2nd Congregation (graducation) since their inception. It was quite an exciting event to attend and much different from our ceremony. The dignitaries were drummed in by some young boys and a group of ladies dancing along and hooting. The ceremony was held outside with tents covering the perimeter where we sat (it's the end of rainy season right now). The students wore gowns very similar to ours and it was very touching to watch them cross the stage. Post-secondary education is very difficult to obtain here in Tamale and it was very evident what a family affair these student's achievements were.

After the graduation I went with Razak to get a bike. This has been a wonderful addition to my life here in Tamale...it's so much easier to get around now. It is difficult to get used to the disorder on the roads and sidewalks though. I told my Dad that I feel like getting off my bike and yelling into a big loudspeaker: "Okay people, from now on, no motorbikes should be driving on the sidewalk at all...you belong on the roads. Cyclers, please keep to your right and to all the cars out there, stop honking at everything!" haha But Dad and I both agree that I would conjure much more laughter than any sort of serious consideration for these solutions.

I would be cheating if I didn't share my most embarrassing moment to date. When I went to pick up my bike after it had been serviced I was wearing a long cotton skirt. I showed up at this little shop infront of the Central Mosque which was populated by a number of men-young and old fixing bikes and other metal objects. As I waited for the man to bring my bike forward I heard one of the others hiss at me. This happens a lot, so I thought nothing of it as I turned to see what the guy wanted. Apparently as I exited the taxi I had arrived in, my skirt had slid up and was able to affix itself to my upper thigh since it was so hot and humid. I was suffering from nearly the same exposure as one who had tucked their skirt into their underwear. The kind gentelman who hissed at me managed not to laugh as he told me "Miss, your skirt is up high" and pointed up. An excellent way to draw attention to myself at the bike shop ; )