Lining the street of banks were the ambulatory sellers with their baked goods, cloth, and newspapers. I can’t help but notice the contrast, the contradiction between them and the banks. I know their lives are very hard, but I find them beautiful in their colorful patterns possessing a grace and balance I can only dream of having...
I got to the house with complete ease and familiarity. But when I arrived, I find one of my favorite Ghanaian friend’s wife is there to greet me. I didn’t know he had a wife?!?! (a year has clearly passed). I unpacked, which was entirely frustrating as I seemed to have packed all wrong and by that I mean I brought everything I own with me (FOR 10 DAYS!!!), showered (yup, the shower head works - no hot water, but its too hot for hot water anyhow) and then I headed out…it is not even 11am and despite my caffeine injection, I am fading fast.
I bought a phone from street kids who assured me they would buy it back when I leave, the keys stick and it is in French, but they were sweet and they were real salesmen, so I guess maybe I am just a sucker or maybe the Bradt Guide warning that no matter how shoe string my budget is, the majority of the people I meet (selling goods on the street especially) are far worse off than I am.
As I walked down Oxford street, I ran into several familiar faces - sellers mostly. There is one in particular that I stopped to speak with and it seemed he remembered me too. Joseph is in a wheel chair, but he is out on Oxford street all day, every day. Last year after a long hot day, when we had both been waiting for a tro-tro for longer than we should have or wanted to wait, we decided to share a care. This started our hellos and goodbyes as we bonded over our Teshie/Nungua connection. I am amazed he recognized me and perhaps even more so that I recognized him in my lack of sleep induced haze. Running into a friend, no matter how tenuous a friend it may be, makes me feel like I have returned to one of my many many homes.
I have made it to a coffee shop that is supposed to have internet. I bought my 5 cedi coffee, which is about 5 times as much as lunch on the street would be, and sure enough the internet doesn’t work. Between the internet and the GIGANTIC smashed roach on the bathroom floor, I know I am right back where I am supposed to be in this mystical place.