18 degrees Celsius is only 64.4 degrees Fahrenheit!!

MY OFFICE BUILIDNG IS FREEZING. You could store meat in this place it is that cold. I checked the various air conditioners and saw that they are all set to 18 degrees Celsius. I grew up using Fahrenheit to measure temperature so I quickly went to my computer to convert it and saw that 18 degrees is 64.4 degrees fahrenheit. People, that is cold!!! I consider that to be jacket weather. Why is the air conditioning set to a level that requires a coat? I keep my office air conditioner on 26 degrees Celsius and am frequently told that my old feels too warm and in comparison to the rest of this Arctic office building my office does feel like a tropical oasis but I need the warmth. I really don’t get this. And this isn’t limited to my office either. I experience this in other offices within Accra, especially banks. Aren’t we hot weather people? This is Ghana, right? I am the one that grew up in the cold but yet seem to be the only one running away from the air conditioning. The funny thing is I’ve seen Ghanaians practically wearing parkas during rainy season and the temperature is probably about 22-25 degrees Celsius but everyone seems to celebrate the intense air conditioning.

Unsung Heroes

I need to give praise, a shoutout, much respect and a heartfelt thanks to the people who decide to get up every day and direct traffic at some of the most congested, traffic light/stop sign needing intersections and tunnels in Accra. If you’ve driven around Accra, you’ve seen these people. Usually they are some young men, who stand all day in the often very intense heat with nothing more than a stick w/a bandana tied to it, or a tree branch in their hands directing traffic. It is my understanding that they are not paid by the government and are not trained to do the work they do. Instead they are just private citizens who get up and do this. So far Ghana is the only country I’ve been in where you can get up, pick up a tree branch and become a traffic conductor but it happens. I know they don’t do it just to be kind, they do beg for money as they are directing traffic but they are doing a service and I gladly donate to their cause. They provide a much needed service. I still am not the most aggressive driver and know that without them I would be stuck waiting at places like the East Legon tunnel, or the bridge to the Abbatoir Road for hours hoping someone would pity me and allow me to pass. Without them those areas would be absolute chaos. Everyone would be trying to force their way through and the already high accident rate would increase. So this post is dedicated to those branch wielding traffic conductors all over Accra. Me dase paaaa!

Run up on me at the light, you could lose your life

That is one of my favorite Jigga lines. It comes from Excuse Me Miss Again (remix). And I was reminded of it last night . . . .


I got lost yesterday. Totally and completely lost. And if you’ve been reading my posts you will know that the vast majority of roads in Ghana don’t have street signs, so whenever I attempted to ask for directions I would hear something like “Go straight, straight, straight, and when you come to a big restaurant go right.” That sounds fine but I think I was so freaked out because I was so completely lost, and it was dark that I wasn’t even paying attention to the landmarks given. It was awful. After I had gone straight for about 2 miles without seeing a restaurant I decided to pull over and ask yet another pedestrian for directions. I saw a young man walking wearing headphones so I lightly tapped my horn to get his attention. I rolled down my window and asked, “Excuse me, how do I get to Tema Beach Road?” He said “Oh, it’s this way” and started to open my car door.

YES, that’s right. Homeboy tried to open my car door. WTF! I said, "NO! THERE IS NO NEED TO ENTER" and peeled off so fast I may have driven over a few of his toes. My heart was racing! I was thinking “Oh my God, dude is about to murder me and throw me into the bushes!” Actually, I know that Ghanaians are super friendly and considerate about giving directions. We all know how difficult it is to get around here given that many places are not well lit and there isn’t a proper address system, HOWEVER, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT, try to enter my car to give me directions. Things like that will get you shot in NYC. Hell, I don’t carry a weapon but thought, “Do I need to reverse and hit him so he doesn’t take me out first?” (just joking!) Poor boy, it is very likely he was just trying to offer assistance but I wasn’t taking any chances. Believe that the next person I asked for directions was a woman. And I made sure she was a small woman at that.

In New York, Concrete jungle where dreams are made of

Ahhh! It's good to be in NY!!! For the most part I enjoy my life in Accra but NYC will always be my first love. It was where I was born and raised so how can I feel any differently? I've never been away from the city for more than four months at a time until now. I've been gone for about eight months!!! I missed it so badly I was even looking forward to seeing the graffiti. I have about 48 hours here. I plan on eating tons of Thai and Mexican food, helping out the economy by shopping like a mad woman and of course spending time with family and friends. We will see how much gets accomplished.

Un-Be-Weave-Able

I’m going to stereotype and say that Ghanaian women love fake hair. As a matter of fact I am pretty sure that starting a church or selling weaves are two of the easiest and fastest ways to get rich in Ghana. I admit that not ALL Ghanaian women wear fake hair but many, in fact the vast majority, prefer wearing some sort of hair attachment to their own hair. And I think I am the newest convert. I was never a weave wearer when in the US. At most I would wear my hair in tiny braids that ended in loose curls. I would often do that when I wanted to take a break from chemical straighteners. At one point I wore my hair in braids for about two years (not the same braids, I removed and redid them about every 8-10 weeks). I did so because I wanted to grow all the chemicals out of my hair and wear my hair in its natural state. I succeed in growing the chemical out and cut off all the chemically relaxed hair but wore my hair naturally for only about three months before going back to chemical relaxers. Sadly, I didn’t feel that I looked my best with natural hair.

I’ve continued relaxing my hair since I’ve been in Ghana and have worn braids to take a break but recently felt the desire to try something different. So I got a weave. Not a video vixen weave, by that I mean long flowing hair, but a weave nonetheless. My weave was a short bob with bangs, or as said in the UK, a “fringe.” I LOVED the weave. Loved it! In fact I have since removed it and am seriously contemplating getting another one. Having it in my hair made my morning routine so much easier. I barely spent any time styling my hair, I pretty much just brushed the weave into shape and went about my day. I didn’t worry about humidity, sweat or rain. When the hair got wet, it dried and fell right back into place.

I used to think that women who constantly wore weaves were being fake. I also thought of it as unprofessional. When I thought of weaves images of Lil Kim and Foxy Brown came to mind and who the hell wants to look like them? Additionally, I’ve read articles and essays debating whether the wearing of weaves by Black women indicated acceptance and adoption of the European beauty ideal (Fair skin, slim bodies and long flowing hair). Writers have even likened the wearing of weaves by Black women to skin bleaching. I don’t completely follow that line of thinking but have thought that women who constantly wore weaves had some sort of insecurity issue. And now look at me! I wore a weave for a month and am thinking of other possible weave styles. I loved the ease and versatility of it. So now I am thinking that maybe I was thinking about the hair issue too deeply. What’s wrong with wearing weaves and constantly changing one’s hair length, texture or style? Why can’t a Black woman’s hair be like her attire and change daily? Does it really matter if the hair is fake or not?

pictured above is a signboard on Spintex Road (a very busy street in Accra) advertising hair weaves.

Steve Madden + Gucci = Stucci

I have a pair of flats by Steve Madden that I have worn to the ground. I wore them to commute to and from work. Ghana streets are not very pedestrian friendly. Many don’t have sidewalks therefore, if you are walking you are either walking along the side of the road in red dirt or loose gravel. The soles of the shoes were pretty thin to begin with so after months of commuting via trotro, during rainy season, the soles were basically non-existent. In fact the soles had become so thin that water would seep into the shoe through the soles. I took the shoes to a local shoemaker/shoe repairer and asked him to re-sole the bottom. I also dropped off two other pairs of pumps to have their heel taps replaced. I showed him the Steve Madden flats and explained that I wanted a rubber sole slightly thicker than the original sole. He said sure.

I was shocked when I went to retrieve the shoes. I looked at the bottom of the Steve Madden flats and saw that he did replace the sole with a thicker rubber sole. But they weren’t the average rubber sole, the new rubber sole had interlocking Gs all over it. That’s right, interlocking Gs as if they were a pair of Gucci shoes!

Why is there so much counterfeit stuff in Accra? I realize that the goods are mostly China made products but why do we have such an appetite for it? I've seen so many Louis Vuitton, Prada and Gucci purses since I've been here and know that 99 percent of it is fake. Is it that people don't realize they are purchasing knockoff goods or is that they want those brands and settle for the counterfeit ones because they can't afford the original?

In the meantime I can't wait for the next rainy day. I will be sure to wear my Stuccis and leave G footprints all over Accra!

They finally got it

My blackberry pearl was stolen off of my desk today. I am pissed! I was in my office and an older gentleman walked in, unannounced. I should have been immediately tipped off because people are generally guided into my office by the receptionist or office manager. The man quickly walked over to my desk and started showing me papers. He actually placed a few on my desk while pointing to them and mouthing words. It became clear to me that he was not able to speak. I didn’t know why he was in my office but his behavior was making me nervous so I told him to leave my office and go to the reception area. He quickly snatched up his papers and walked out of my office. I stood up after he left intending to go ask reception about him and noticed that one of my phones, the blackberry pearl, was missing. I then got up and went to the reception area and asked the office maintenance worker if he had just seen a man exit the office. He said yes but didn’t know where he had gone. I said, “That man just stole my phone.” We exited the office, told the security guard in the lobby and attempted to look for him but were unable to locate him. I am livid!

I am also wondering why that phone is such a hot ticket item. I had a similar incident happen with that same phone when I worked in NYC as a prosecutor. I was interviewing a child who was the victim of a crime when I stepped out of the office to speak with a supervisor. I left my phone on the desk as I did so but upon returning to the office did not see the phone on the desk. I looked around the desk and moved some files but still couldn’t find the phone. At that point I called the cell phone and heard it ringing, in the victim’s mother’s coat pocket! I kid you not. I stared at her as she removed the phone from her pocket, placed it on the desk and said, “Oh, this isn’t my phone.” Of course it wasn’t her phone!! Her phone was a big red phone that looked like the first cell phone ever made. I allowed her and her child to leave my office but in hindsight I should have had her arrested. Who comes to a prosecutor’s office and steals? I guess the same kind of person who pretends to be mute, walks into a firm and steals a cell phone.