Medase Pa

3 days shy of 8 months, I found myself on a flight home. Here's the finale to my blog that I wrote in Kokrobite the week before I left. Sorry for the sentimental nature...

A few years ago I met some people on holiday. They had been travelling for a few months and I remember being so envious of one of the the girls' feet – so so brown. Browner that I ever thought my feet could be. Ever. But today, I look down (or up if I am in yoga doing the shoulder stand – not that other nifty move that involves drawing in the you know what...) and can barely believe that the feet I stare at are mine. The lovely bronzed colour I had never expected they would be.

Medase, thank you, or the literal meaning of medawasiye (I will lie under you) gives thanks a whole different connotation in Ghana. But the only way I can sum up this whole experience is to say thank you, less in the Ghanaian sense... To Ghana for the things I learned, and forgot. For presenting me with the expected and unexpected. For appreciation, challenging my limits. For the opportunity to live by the sea, be tanned, overdose on vitamin D, the simple delights and beautiful moments. To the people not in Ghana, friends and family, for their positivity, to the people who read this blog, the people who made me feel at home, my neighbours, the wonderful friends I gained, the amazing Accra, Kof and honorary Accra volunteers, to those who kept me sane and entertained at work, Mr Teiks, Yanka. And provident. For raised tolerance to so many things, more patience, ebbing taste buds, the power of hissing, the peppermint palace. To jazz music, hip life, music in general, cake, pizza, 241 pizza, melting moments, Bella, NECK(!), crazy tro tro rides that I would do all over again, long bus journeys, days at the beach, and nights, and to everyone I met here for your unique and inspiring perspectives. To memories and long friendships.

Packing my things to come home, I come across my favourite pink top. Massimo Dutti in Ghana, almost an oxymoron. So easy and light to wear in the oppresive heat, just the right sleeve length and neckline. I am wearing it in so many of my Ghana pictures. I am tempted to bring it home as a relic. Something about it is symbolic – laddered, snagged, victim to ant holes, moth eaten, a massive tear from where I pulled it off wet after wearing it under a waterfall, faded, but still pink, repairable, possibly wearable and still my favourite top.

Chahle, nante yie. Falafel is officially no longer in Ghana...

What's my name?

Aside from being a song by Rihanna that is fairly well-played in Ghana, I recently had a conversation with a Ghanaian about the significance of a name – the thought that goes into naming a child and how a name influences a person's character and personality. Most Ghanaians have several names – all my work colleagues had names at work that were different to the names they kept at home or on facebook, and everyone's middle name is linked to the day of the week on which they were born. For example, I would be Afia. Friday born.

In my last week, I attended a naming ceremony for a baby girl, Megan. Megan's parents run a project in James Town, a shanty town on the beach in Accra, for street kids to get them back into school, providing uniforms and meals. Click here for more info.

Naming ceremonies take place very early in the morning. We woke up at the crack of dawn, but an unexpected rainstorm delayed events and instead of leaving the house at 6am, we ended up leaving at around 7.45am. Armed with macs and umbrellas, feeling slightly chilly, the damp, grey overcast morning felt almost like being at home!

The small room was packed with visitors and well-wishers, so we peered in through the window as the priest finished off the ceremony. Everyone wore white, a few snacks and drinks were given out, including corn wine (non-alcoholic) that smelled of sweetcorn but had a very acquired taste and sobolo – a hibiscus drink with ginger that I much prefer when mixed with sprite.

Everyone brought a gift. Clothes, nappies, other baby things, money. There was a ceremony to say thank you for each gift where a lady stood in the middle of the room, with gifts held on her head, singing a long song in Ga, at the end of which the other women chimed in to a chorus of saying 'thank you' in Ga. This continued for about 45 minutes as there were quite a few presents to get through!

Megan and Jay with me

Beads

Strings of brightly coloured glass beads are a trademark of Ghana. You can find them on sale by the beach, on the roadside, in upmarket jewellery shops, on the wrists and throats of men, women and children, interspersed with larger bright and unique stones or beads. Young girls and women also wear waist beads. Initially to a new eye, the locally made beads can look clumsy, but they grow on you. Some look like sweets, others are made from crushed sprite bottles. There is a bead market in Koforidua in the Eastern region that is meant to be amazing and where a lot of bead shops get their supplies from. Sadly I didn't make it there but did get some nice beads in Kumasi. I befriended the owner of the jewellery stand near Paloma, very close to my house, and have spent some satisfying times designing my own bracelets, necklaces and earrings as gifts to bring home. By the end of my stay, the owner was letting me bring my own beads and string them myself in his shop while he worked on more complex requests for me!

Selection of beads - the ones on the bottom left look like sweets!

Beads made from crushed Sprite bottles

Necklace and bracelet made and designed myself