Off The Beaten Track

Well, here I am at last, having finally made that connection with the western world... There is a chicken poking about under my feet. Unusual for an internet cafe.

I am writing to you from Akim Achiase, in the Eastern Region of Ghana. I moved out here in a pickup truck after a whirlwind of activities in Accra with the other sixteen volunteers. Since I flew out, I have just about managed to cope with the heat; (when I touched down in Accra on the 30th of Jan it was eleven O' clock at night- and 29 degrees), being proposed to by every man I meet, and drinking out of a plastic bag. After a week of intensive tanning and teacher training, all the volunteers were split up and scattered around Ghana. After driving for two hours to get out of Accra, The Scientist, my Roomie- (Hull girl born and bred, and proud)- and I were chucked into the back of a pickup truck and driven across country at a hundred and twenty miles per hour, bouncing over increasingly rough terrain. All our luggage was dumped in the back of the pickup, and I spent most of the hour and a half journey twisted in my seat, terrified that the bouncing truck would scatter our cases out into the road. However, we arrived relatively unscathed.

Akim Achiase is a small town, built primarily along a single main road. Everyone walks about carrying their possessions on their head, and all the children we meet point at us and yell "Obruni! Obruni!" This literally translates as "White Man", and our response is normally to reply "Obibini!"- (black man).

God forbid I should ever attempt that exchange on the New Cross road.

My Roomie and I are living with The Reverend, who is a small, rather shy man, but who has been very welcoming to us both. There is no running water in the house, so we have bucket showers- (actually surprisingly refreshing, and very much growing on me)- and the toilet has to be flushed by collecting water and pouring it into the top basin, before you pull the handle. Actually, I broke the toilet this morning. Oops. The Scientist is about two minutes down the road, living next to his school, with his host, The Headmaster. He has two dogs- one named Thy Will Be Done, the other Atomic Energy. Atomic Energy is an eight-week old puppy with huge sticky out ears. Together they have done absolute wonders for my Dog Deficiency. Our houses are surrounded by palm trees, and banana trees- there is a paw paw tree in our front garden. Across from our house is a farm, and small goats wander all over the place going "aaaaahhh!", or something similar. There are also, monster-sized chickens. The road itself is in the side of the valley, with bush and rainforest all around us. It's very, very green, even with the dry season and absolutely no rain.

Everyone is pathologically friendly. Thought I knew the meaning of 'community', until I arrived out here. The Scientist mentioned to me yesterday that someone had crept into his bedroom and written a marriage proposal on his wall while he was out. People have been trying to teach me basic phrases in Twi, (the local dialect) but it's going in one ear and out the other. I am completely in awe of the skill with which everyone can carry huge weights on their head. My Roomie and I were staggering down the road, trying to carry a huge plastic bag containing around thirty water sachets- (about fifteen litres of water and it cost us the equivalent of 25p- unbelievable), and a tiny girl, about half hour size, came trotting up and offered to carry it for us!

"No, no...." we wheezed, staggering along, "We're fine, really...."

All in all, I am absolutely loving it thus far. One issue, however, is the waking up. At five every morning, the local mosque uses industrial sized speakers to call all the muslims in the community to prayer. It's bloody noisy. My Roomie manages to sleep through it, but I've not perfected that talent so far. An hour later, punctuated by constant symphonies from the many roosters around the house, the singing starts again, this time calling people away from prayer. I wish I'd included earplugs in my case after all....

I went to Church on Sunday, purely out of interest. It was an incredible experience- put all the people standing stiffly behind pews chirping "he who would valiant be" back home to shame. My Roomie and I had hoped to stand quietly at the back and observe; turned out that wasn't actually an option. Was pulled into a conga around the room, waving a tambourine and shouting "HALLELUJAH!" When The Reverend introduced us both, you couldn't actually hear him speak over the yells of "AMEN!" and "YOU ARE WELCOME!!"

To cut a long story short, it seems I will be starting a church choir for about thirty adults with only a basic grasp of English....

And I have grown two left knees. Those bloody mosquitoes.