Playing Sardines

There is an old-fashioned English party game, which became very popular with my family around four years ago, called Sardines. The object of this game is essentially to fit as many people into as small a space as possible. Now I play this game every time I get onto a tro-tro (the local minibuses).

Quite how they managed to fit My Roomie, The Scientist and I, The Rev. and another local pastor, twenty schoolchildren, five teachers, a large amount of building materials and several sacks of cement in a minibus designed to fit twelve people will forever remain a mystery to me. It was only once we were all crammed inside, with poles under my feet and two excitable children on my lap, that I realised I desperately needed a wee. The ensuing journey (over incredibly bumpy roads) was one of the most painful of my entire life.

All the volunteers travelled to Cape Coast- My Roomie, The Scientist and I came bouncing down the country in a tro-tro that seemed to be mostly held together with bits of string. The terrain around Achiase is incredibly hilly, and every road is full of holes. Coming over the crest of each hill you can see for miles- then the bus goes careering downwards at a truly alarming rate, the momentum only broken by the wheels hitting the many potholes in the road and sending everyone inside the vehicle shooting upwards out of their seats. The Scientist suffers the most from this, being far too tall to fit comfortably inside a tro-tro in the first place. We've considered investing in an ice-hockey helmet, to save his considerable brains from being mushed to pieces before he starts at Oxford in September.

Our weekend at Cape Coast was spent forcing as much Western food down our throats as we could possibly manage. Chips! Chips! My GOD I had missed chips! Even more alarming was that there were white people everywhere. Having become accustomed to being the only Europeans for a fifty-mile radius at home in Achiase, Cape Coast was a complete culture shock to us. Our return to the UK will probably bring on a complete nervous breakdown. It was fantastic to see all the other volunteers, who have been living the high life in and around Takoradi since we left Accra. My Roomie and I are eagerly awaiting the opportunity to roam around the country, visiting more beaches and waterfalls before the rainy season begins.

School continues in the usual leisurely fashion, with the Lost Boys having bravado contests left right and center; (today it was who was the tallest. Mr I. strode around accusing everyone of being dwarfs, in fact he's the shortest of the lot) The children still climb up me at every opportunity- I can't sit down without six little girls immediately starting to pull and braid my hair. They are all incredibly bright, and very eager to learn, and a complete pleasure to teach.

And I have started my own choir. Yes. I am the Maria Von Trapp of Ghana. It was the first time I have ever strode into a room, shouted "Who knows KUM-BY-YAH??" and been met with completely blank faces. Following that initial hitch though, the first rehearsal was a complete success. There is a Diva; who leads the fanatic singing at every church service, and bullies all the younger girls. It's going to be a joy working alongside her.

Love to everyone. Akwaaba.