Work is getting tedious as I spend time in the office with
no windows, transferring data onto the online system, writing Chairman’s CV and
try to develop an internal flow of communications strategy.
The only eventful thing that happened last week at work was
that I was taken for lunch by a colleague. It’s an eatery that’s really popular
with FR staff and looks like a small canteen inside. I took one of the only
available menus on offer: okra soup. Not a massive fan of okra anyway because
of its somewhat gloopy consistency, the challenge was intensified with the
addition of cow stomach stew. It was OK when I started off when I was hungry,
some rich spices compensated for the jelly strings and I ignored the crunchy
bits in the meat, but gradually it became an ordeal as I dipped the banku in
the sauce and tried to grab at the spicy soup with my hands. Colleagues were
looking at me with interest, and so gagging was not an option. I tried to let
the fact I was eating fermented food with cow insides wash over me and contemplated
how we are cultured into only eating certain things.
I quite enjoyed giving Isaac an olive from the foreign food
shop in the car the other day. After a few minutes I turned to him and saw the
majority of the olive was still outside his mouth and he’d only tenderly chewed
on a mere corner of it. Chicken gizzards and offal are so popular here that they’re
actually imported to Ghana from Europe. Nana says that he likes Tilapia head so
much he could almost leave the fish body.
Still experiencing the acidy feeling in my throat and after
sleeping about 13 hours one night, I went to the pharmacist to ask about
changing the anti-malaria medicine. I explained the effects of the doxycycline
and she suggested I take one Mefloquine tablet to test if it was any better.
She assured me it would start working straight away and it wasn’t a problem to
mix the two drugs.
Over the week a rash came; it started on my left leg and
spread to my arms. It wasn’t worryingly purple or anything, but my skin was
irritated. Then came a pain in my chest just under my left rib. I rushed to a
different pharmacy to read the Mefloquine instructions and saw that indeed it
was a side-effect. The pharmacist assured me it wasn’t a problem to just return
to the first medicine (the doxycycline).
Everything was relatively under control. Friday night came
along and with it Halloween in Accra. Not generally celebrated here, the expat
community gathered for a party at an American’s house. It was a multinational raving peacekeeping unit on the roof; people from all over were united by one
substance that has lubricated such affairs for centuries: alcohol. I quite soon realised the situation required
one to stay relatively sober and not to stand too close to the edge. New
partygoers would arrive, take in the scene above them, take a picture and then
start up the ladder. It was a relatively good outcome overall as only one
person fell off the roof in the night and ended up in hospital.
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