Adventures in a Foreign Land - The Sushi Date

Where I’m from (at least what I’m used to where I’m from), usually, when someone invites you out to lunch or dinner (basically to do something that involves the spending of money), unless otherwise stated, the person (or people) that did the inviting pay for that something.

I’d never had sushi (the thought of raw fish still sends something up and down my spine) before so of course I was curious about it. Imagine my excitement (ummmmm... I think) when two of my work colleagues invited myself and another Gh gal out for lunch, and we were gon have sushi (Yay!). This invitation came a week before the lunch date (I guess you could call it that) so we had a whole week to contemplate how this date was gon go. I was of the opinion that we should go prepared to pay for our food especially since the invitation came from females (besides I’d heard that even with guys over there, you’d still have to settle your own bill). My Gh work colleague however was of the opinion that since we were “sitting our somewhere”, and these ladies felt we should try sushi (it is after all more than just raw fish. I always thought it was all about fish that was raw), then they would have to pay (I really don't know where this idea came from ooo... it was more of gals gals going to get lunch or something. why did we expect them to pay for us?). Of course you can’t blame her cos we were barely surviving on the money we made plus jeez! just about all of it went into paying bills (yuck!). We dint exactly have enough to spare on food we’d never tasted before and we weren’t even sure if we’d have to go look for some fufu to swallow afterwards in order for this sushi to digest. Besides, we always brought lunch from home (much cheaper).

Ok, so it was the day of the date (really, I don’t know what else to call it), one of the ladies drove us to the sushi bar and we left the “inviters” (doubt if that’s a word) to order. Oh my goodness! The food was actually really good. I loved it (at least I loved their selection). Of course I dint waste time trying to use the chop sticks (why bother when there was a fork?) And yeah, I did stink at using chop sticks (why would anyone want to eat with sticks anyways? that of course is a topic for another day).

Sushi done, waitress brings the bill and these ladies take out their cell phones to do the math :o Yep, they split the bill four ways L (these people paa... If I'd known, I'd have eaten more. the food was served on a tray and everyone just ate as much as they could).

Me, I came prepared papa. Matter of fact, I came over-prepared. I paid for myself and even had enough left to sort my Gh friend out (obviously, the money she had on her couldn't cater for her portion of the bill).

Moral of the story: there's nothing like over-preparation (seriously), your assumptions aren't always the truth (when in doubt, seek clarification) and it doesn't really hurt to try new stuff regardless of how weird they seem (who would have thought raw fish tasted good? some of it dint taste so hot though. with those ones, I dint eat too much, but if I'd known I was paying for them, I'd have eaten more papa). And finally, your friends don't always have the best advice (I have another story to illustrate this point. imagine if I'd also showed up with little or no cash).

P.S. my next adventure also has to do with food but it so does not mean I'm all about food (just a coincidence).
P.S.S. I tried Thai food some time eeeh and it was nice papa. This one I dint pay for. Was brought in for lunch during a board meeting at work (how I ate). There's this one with coconut juice in it... mmmmhmmm...

The Other Day I Should Never Have Forgotten...

After my experience the previous semester, I made it a point to leave home 3 hours to the start of each paper, have enough money on me, and make that decision to pick a taxi when it was about 2 hours to the start of a paper, and of course to read all instructions and information on any question paper before answering questions (there's a reason why all that information is printed on the paper).

So it's the next semester, examination time and time for the psychology (the other course I took in Humanities) paper. I get to campus with 2 hours to spare before the start of the paper. I decide to read through material I had on the course and after an hour, I get everything ready.
Pen - check
Pencil - check
Eraser - check
Ruler - check
Correction Pen - check (some of the stuff, I dint really need but I brought them along anyways)
ID card - ???
ID card - ??? (where is my ID card?)
Oh my goodness! I decided to switch handbags that morning and my ID card dint make it during the switch. It was an hour to the start of the paper and obviously impossible for me to go home and make it back in time for the paper. What was I to do?

I decided to make for the exam room and hoped and prayed the invigilators wouldn't hustle me about not having the university ID card. At the entrance, there was this very hard to ignore notice that said students without ID cards would not be allowed to write the exams, but I decided to not see. I went in, found my seat and got comfortable. At this point, it was about 25mins to the start of the paper. At about 10mins to the start of the paper, I asked one of the invigilators if I would be allowed to write the paper since I dint have my ID card with me. He asked if I couldn't read notices :(

The invigilator told me I could get a provisonal ID card at the Registry and thankfully, my exam venue was the Great Hall which really is close to the Registry. I made that decision to go get myself a provisional ID card there and then, cos I knew there was no way I would be allowed to take the paper without an ID card, plus once I see the questions, I wouldn't be allowed to go out unless I was dying or needed to go to the washroom (for some reason they always made us start the paper befor checking for ID cards).

I run as fast as my legs could carry me (without tearing a hamstring of course) and headed on to the Registry and oh my! then it hit me that I just might miss that paper. There was this crowd of people there (apparently I wasn't the only one that needed a provisional ID card that morning). I started psyching myself up to take the course the next year but the thought of all the stress I'd been through that semester (standing during lectures cos the class dint get divided in two like the sociology class and there was just too many of us) just pushed me to the front of the crowd only to find out that the office we were supposed to go into for the provisional ID card was locked.

Turns out one of the staff (he wasn't even a staff. he was a national service personnel) locked the door and came out periodically to take down the names of those standing outside in order to search the computer for their information. I waited for like 10mins and then finally this guy opens the door and comes out. I had my name already written down so I hand the sheet to him, others do same and he heads back inside (of course locking the door behind him). He did come out eventually with printed versions of the information the Registry had on us (that was supposed to be the provisional ID card). I really should have been excited cos I had the provisional ID card, right? WRONG! This was the point where the guy announces that the provisional ID card has to be signed by someone who wasn't even in. Matter of fact, he dint know when she was gon arrive. The guy then goes back in and shuts the door (seriously? I could have murdered him at this point :| ). After another 15mins (the paper had already started), this rather kind gentleman shows up, asks us (the crowd) what we doing there, we explain to him and he makes the mistake of announcing that he can sign for the lady. At this point, the crowd starts heckling him and the huge guys start shoving the small people (myself included) out of the way to make it to the front. The kind getleman makes it into the office and everyone else follows him in. The national service guy, with the help of some staff shove us all right back out and lock the door.

I felt like crying :( Ei! what was I going to do? The paper had been going on for like 20mins. Hmmmm... The kind gentleman really was a kind gentleman cos he unlocked the door after a while and asked us to come in, in an orderly manner (seriously?). Quite a number of the students had their exam venues far from the Registry and they had all started panicking. Most of the girls were crying. I was on the verge of tears but refused to cry (and my exam venue was even quite close). At this point, it was more of survival of the fittest and it sure dint look like I was amongst the fittest.

I looked at my watch, it was 25mins since the paper started, and I knew I had to do something. I wiggled my way to the front of the queue (more like the front of the horde of people) and I wasn't bothered who or what touched which part of my body (trust me, guys were touching places they shouldn't have even been looking at). Finally, I was at the front. The kind gentleman looked up to hand someone their endorsed sheet of paper (ummmm... I mean provisional ID card) and that was when I flashed one of my killer smiles (you'd have to see to judge for yourself :D ). He looked directly at me and asked for my provisional ID card. I handed it over to him, he signed and gave back to me. I said thank you and that's when the tears started flowing. I managed to flash him another killer smile and then I took off.

It was exactly 30mins since the paper started and I run even faster than I did the first time to the exam hall (again, no hamstring injury). I think I forgot to mention I synchronised my watch to the clock in the exam room when I was in there earlier, so I was pretty sure of the time. I made it into the exam room and headed for my seat (thankfully, I knew where it was since I'd been there already). I sat down and an invigilator handed my a question paper. Of course I read all the fine print on it before I started tackling the questions.

Everything was going smoothly (or so I thought) until I heard something like an argument behind me. It was the head invigilator arguing with one of the students. The invigilator was asking this male student to walk out since he saw him walk in 30mins after the paper had started. The student kept insisting that he walked in right when it was 30mins after the start of the paper so technically, he hadn't broken the rules, but the head invigilator would have none of that. The student finally accepted and got up (in my head I was like, thank goodness at least now I can have some peace of mind to think and answer my questions in peace). Not even in my wildest imaginations could I have come up with what happened next.

This student, instead of walking out of the door, made his way towards me. He points at me and says to the head invigilator that he walked in the same time I did so then I should be sent out of the exam room as well. He further added that he was even at the Registry with me getting a provisional ID card and we both left just about the same time (I have never really ever felt like murdering someone ever in my life the way I felt like murdering this guy. honestly, if I had had a gun, I'm sure I'd still be doing time in prison for his murder). I was writing at this point and there and then, my hands started shaking, and all I was writing started to look like a language that wasn't English. I was still writing because I was trying to appear nonchalant. I dint say a word. The student just kept going on and on about how I should be sent out of the exam room, the head invigilator just told him, since he, the invigilator did not see me enter, then he can't send me out. The student would however not let down. This whole thing went on for like 15mins until the head invigilator got some of the other male invigilators to forcibly remove the guy. I don't believe I have breathed in that hard since.

Results came out the next semester and I had an A in the psychology paper (whew!). All I can say is God is still in the miracle business.

The Day I Should Never Have Forgotten...

There's days we tell ourselves we'll never forget, cos those days might have had some sort of impact on us. Well, I forgot one such day (I really don't know how I did). It wasn't until last week, when I watched a video of retired British athlete, Derek Redmond in the 1992 olympics that I remembered (you know, the 400m semi-final where he tore his hamstring, could have lay down on the ground in pain, but decided to finish the race anyways, and his dad came down to help him). Honestly, watching that video got me teary eyed (I have watched it before, but I still get that way whenever I see it).

So what am I talking about? No, I never tore a hamstring. Matter of fact, I doubt if I could do a 400m walk (just kidding :D )

In the 2nd year of my undergraduate programme at UG, I took a course in humanities (sociology). I was a science student (small class sizes) so it was a shock for me joining the arts students (huge class sizes). I made it through the first semester and then it was time for me to justify my inclusion (I've always wanted to use that phrase. I meant, it was time for exams). At the time, I was a non-resident student living in Dansoman. It is quite a distance from Dansoman to Legon (we dint have the George Walker Bush Motorway a.k.a. N1 at the time) so I made sure I left home 2 hours before the start of each paper. It had worked well for me since the exams started, and then it was time for the sociology paper. I left home and stood at my junction like I always did. I waited and waited and waited and waited, but all the buses (tro-tro) that came by were full (I guess no one was getting off between the station and my junction). After 40mins of waiting at my junction, I decided to pick a bus from my junction to the station where the buses loaded. I get there and there's a queue which I joined. Fortunately for me (or so I thought) a bus came right away and started loading. Just when it got to my turn, the bus was full and the mate (bus conductor) wouldn't let me take his seat. I wasn't too bothered (I probably should have been) cos at least I was first in line.

It was an hour to the start of the paper and I was still standing at the front of the queue, no bus in sight. I waited 5 more minutes and then I knew I had to do something. I could pick a taxi but then I dint have enough money to pay for it. Aha! Yep, I had a light bulb moment. My grandma also lived in Dansoman and I could go to her house and ask her for money to pay for the taxi.

I picked a taxi and gave the driver directions to my grandma's house. It was at this point that I started to panic. What if she wasn't home? It was 50mins to the start of the paper and it wouldn't take less than an hour to get to Legon (that would even be on an extremely good day).

Finally! Something actually went my way that day. My grandma was home and when I explained what was going on, she seemed even more panicky than I was (if that was even possible). She gave me the money for the taxi and I jumped right back into the cab and asked the driver to step on it. Told him to use all the short cuts he knew and get me as fast as possible to Legon. Unfortunately, it seemed all the short cuts the driver knew were the most traffic laden routes that day. I once saw this quote (I guess it was a joke) somewhere that said "a short cut is the longest route between two points", well, on that day, that quote made so much sense.

Eventually, I make it to the examination hall and it was 29mins after the start of the paper. The university rule says no student will be let into the exam hall 30mins after the paper has started. So yes, I did sprint from the taxi to the exam hall, but no, I dint tear a hamstring.

From that point, things seemed to go pretty good for me. Just when I entered the exam hall from the back entrance, one of the invigilators quickly ushered me to a seat close to the back. The norm was to look for your index number and sit at the table where your index number was written, but that would have wasted more time plus if the head invigilator had seen me, I'm sure I would have been kicked out of the exam hall cos though my watch said it was exactly 30mins after the start of the paper, the clock in the exam hall actually showed the paper had been going on for about 35mins.

This kind invigilator quickly got me a question paper and an answer booklet and I got right into it. But oh my. It was as though I hadn't studied at all. All the questions looked foreign and I knew I had not seen most of the stuff on the question paper before. At first I just thought it was nerves but I concluded the examiner was just a wicked person cos I knew I had studied hard for that paper. I tried to answer as many questions as I could but I knew most of the stuff I wrote dint even make any sense at all. For a second, I thought it would have even been better if I hadn't bothered to show up. At least then, I wouldn't be graded for a paper I was obviously going to fail.

After what seemed like forever, (time just seems to come to a stand still when you have a question paper in front of you that you can't even answer. Made me wonder where that "stand still time" was when I was running late for the paper) yh, so after what seemed like forever, the head invigilator announced "Group A you have 1 hour left and Group B you have 30mins left". OMG! I could have kicked myself at that point. Of course the questions looked foreign. That's cos I was answering Group A's question paper though I was in Group B. The sociology class was so large that we had been divided into two groups. Those whose index number ended with an odd number were in Group A while those of us whose index number ended with an even number were in Group B.

Each group had been taught by a different lecturer during the semester and we had constantly debated on whether or not we would answer different questions. That made a whole lot of sense since what one lecturer taught was totally different from what the other taught (I always wondered about that since it was supposed to be the same course. "What's the point then", I always asked myself). Cos I was late and in a hurry to just get into it, I dint take time to read the top of the question paper, which clearly said Group A. I just read the instructions on how many questions to answer. The lecturers also thought it wise not to officially announce to us that each group would be answering different questions prior to the start of the exams (I guess they figured we were literate enough to read Group A and Group B on the question papers. Besides I'm sure the invigilators asked each student what group they were in before handing them a question paper).

With 30mins left, I motioned for the kind invigilator (who was still for some reason but fortunately hovering) and told him I was in Group B. He was so apologetic and couldn't stop saying sorry (I actually almost felt bad for him. I tried not to be too mad at him. After all, he did me a favour by allowing me in).

So I spent 30mins on a one and a half hour paper and I honestly dint know I could write that fast. I wrote so fast and my handwriting was so bad that I couldn't even read what I'd written, and though I always made it a point to read through whenever I wrote a paper, I barely had enough time to answer the questions, forget the reading through bit. I submitted my answer booklet knowing it would take a miracle to get me anywhere near the pass mark.

This post has got real long already so let me wrap up. I won't go into the moral of this piece. I'll just let whoever reads it pick something from it on their own. All I can say is, I forgot just how much of a fighter I was (yeah, was).

The results came out the next semester and I was one of the few that had an A. Miracles do happen :)

Kwaku Doe - Napping

I don't really write much (at all) about Kwaku Doe these days cos I use a different route to work. I pass by him on my way home though but I can't interact with him cos of the direction I approach him from.

So of course I was thrilled on Saturday when I had to go out and I went by his spot. Imagine my disappointment when I dint spot him. I actually had my motivator ready, together with a bunch of questions I wanted to ask him, but seems I went by at the wrong time. I did see him eventually but he was lying comfortably (he looked like he was) on the sidewalk with a cement block as his pillow. I almost motioned for him to come, but then again I doubt if he'd have been thrilled to have had his afternoon nap disrupted because of a GH¢0.50 coin.

Keeping My Cool!

More like fighting myself to keep my cool.

I haven't had electricity for the past five (5) days. Thought I was living in the capital city of Gh. Dansoman isn't really a bougie neigbourhood but at least it's cool. I so feel like I'm living in the dark ages (literally). People in my hood just seem to be giving up cos I realised yesterday that two more houses had gone and got themselves generators. Maybe I should just shut up and get myself one.

According to ECG, (of course I called their customer service line) there's a blast transformer in my area and they've been working at replacing it (for the past 5 days) *rollingmyeyes*

Whenever I feel like losing it, (I so have a reason to right about now. My wash and wear clothes are finished. How do I go to work tomorrow?) I remember this picture I saw on someone's profile on foursquare (another social network, I think) and then I keep calm.

How true...

I was so upset yesterday, I dint care if I was gon boil yam or rice, and then I saw this sticker at the back of a taxi. Oh my goodness! I haven't laughed that hard since "Trials of the Ghanaian" ;)

hahahahahaha...

Is The Ghanaian A Chameleon?

YES!!!
How else would you explain how the same Ghanaian who is able to function so well in the Ghanaian system, moves to a foreign country, functions just as well (maybe even better) over there, moves back to Ghana and seeminly forgets how he/she was functioning outside, and just falls back into the Ghanaian way of doing things?

Yep, the Ghanaian has to be a chameleon, changing its colour to suit whichever environment. Where and how did I arrive at this analogy (sounds brilliant huh)? Well... it's not mine. I picked it up last weekend from "Trials of the Ghanaian". A play written and directed by Uncle Ebo Whyte. Seriously, if you missed it last weekend, all I can say is, "HOW COULD YOU???" *angrylook*

I honestly do not remember the last time I laughed so hard. Who would have thought it possible to have so much fun and walk away knowing there was a message in there. But seriously, it makes sense that ECG workers take their kids to work and it is them that play with the switches. Why then do the lights go on and off in Gh without a care to the fact that people own electrical appliances that can get damaged?

I had quite a number of "aha!" moments watching the play (I would never in a million years have likened the Ghanaian to a chameleon). I honestly can relate to that analogy (even just within Ghana). You know how things work different in the private sector as opposed to the public sector in Gh? So, I found myself in the private sector (obviously working efficiently) and then I moved to the public sector (I dint say things don't work efficiently there ooo). In such a situation, a string of things could happen, possibly in succession. You will get on people's nerves cos you like work too much. People will overburden you with all the work cos they know you will do it. You will adjust (change your colour) and be just like everybody else. I am not proud to say that I am at the last phase now :(

If you are in Ghana and missed the play last weekend, don't berate yourself too much cos guess what? It's showing again this weekend. Saturday 9th and Sunday 10th June, 2012 at 4pm and 8pm. Tickets go for GH¢40 and can be bought at Roverman Productions, Joy FM, Airport Shell, Koala, Frankies (I think) and there's other places too that I can't remember *embarrasedlook* but yeah, ask around. And if you already watched it, we can all watch it again cos I'm sure watching it this weekend :D


Come and see and experience customer service Gh style, kids of ECG workers playing with the electricity switches, University graduates who learnt by rote, passed their exams with flying colours and can't function on the outside (the government of the republic of Ghana is a monarchy... hahahahahaha...) etc. Trust me, you will laugh saaaa...

Adventures in a Foreign Land - The Slurpee

My new friend told me I couldn't leave without trying a slurpee. This was somewhere at the end of Summer. Sounded like a good idea especially since I was all for trying anything I hadn't had before (I guess it's normal when you find yourself in a different place for the first time). Summer rolled to an end and then Fall and then it was Winter. I still hadn't had a slurpee (matter of fact, I dint even know what it was. it could have been an exotic dish for all I knew though the name dint exactly sound exotic). For everyone else that's as clueless as I was when I first heard it, a slurpee is a flavoured frozen drink kinda slushy (ice that's melting). There's another (it really is the same) called a slushie. There's this shop on the oxford street in Gh that sells it but it's quite recent (at least it wasn't there a couple of years ago) and I haven't tried it.

Winter's almost over, I'm about to leave, I'm packing my stuff, I still haven't tried a slurpee and my stuff won't fit into my suitcase (last thing I wanted to do was show up at the airport with excess luggage). One thing I learnt, which I obviously dint learn in Gh was to keep receipts of all purchases I made. Why? Cos depending on the item, I could return it to the shop and take my money back, within a certain period of time (now, how cool is that? :D ). So, my stuff wouldn't fit and fortunately, I'd bought quite a number of things the previous week that I dint mind returning (at least I'd get my money back).

I picked a number of stuff I bought from the same shop so I wouldn't be moving round from shop to shop (it was almost Spring but it was freezing out there) and headed on out. I get to the shop, return the stuff, take my money and head on out to catch a bus back home. I was a couple of minutes early (had like 15mins). Wasn't sure if I should head back into the shop cos it was pretty cold and it wasn't a heated bus stop. And then I had a light bulb moment (brilliant idea). I had spotted a 7-eleven shop not too far from the bus stop (about 4mins away) and since I'd still not had my slurpee, I decided to go try it out (I had the time besides, what did I have to lose?).

I get to the 7-eleven shop, pick a large slurpee cup and fill it up with a mixture of different flavours. I'm sure I spent too much time trying to decide on which flavours to go with cos when I got out, I spotted the bus I was supposed to be going home with driving off. Oh my goodness! It was a weekend and the next bus would come by in like an hour and a half. I couldn't wait that long. Besides, I had to repack and I dint have that many days left. I knew there was another bus stop about 10mins away so, I walked that way hoping a bus would come by that would be headed my way.

Slurpee in hand, I begun my 10 minute walk. Now, it was about 25 degrees below zero, it wasn't snowing but there was thick snow on the ground (for some reason they don't plough the snow from the sidewalks on weekends). So yeah, I kinda understood the stares I was getting from other paedestrians and occupants of vehicles that passed by me. The stares did get worse when I got on the bus. Yep, I caught a bus just when I got to the other bus stop. It wasn't exactly going in my direction, but it was headed to the bus terminal at the mall. There, I knew I'd definitely get another bus that would take me closer to home (at least the shelters at the terminal were heated).

I waited like 15mins at the bus terminal and I finally got a bus that was going towards my neighbourhood. That was good news in itself but there was a catch. The bus did drop me close to my house alright. But I had to do a twenty minute walk to get home. I lived in this neighbourhood where everybody (the grown ups) had a car. Buses did operate in my neighbourhood, but that would be early mornings and late afternoons where students were either going to or coming back from school. The buses dint operate on weekends (no school). To go out on a weekend, I'm either hitching a ride with someone or I'm doing a twenty minute walk to catch a bus.

By the time I got home, my slurpee was frozen solid (wasn't slushy anymore). I did have a bit of it on my way (walking, in the bus and at the bus stop), but I had to stop cos it'd got too solid for the straw to be of any use, plus I started concentrating on keeping my fingers warm. They were near frozen even through my mitts. I placed my slurpee in front of the heater in my room until it melted a bit, and then, in the warmth of my room, I was able to really enjoy my slurpee.

The moral of this long winding story: Never give up on what you believe in regardless of how crazy it may seem even to yourself (would have really helped if I'd had a car though. I still can't believe I put my fingers through that torture).

P.S. my estimation of the number of minutes it takes to walk from one point to another really is about how fast my legs can carry me.
May the souls of all the lives lost in the plane crashes in Gh & Nigeria over the weekend rest in peace.