Sure, holidays are the best days to travel, according to my vast knowledge of the subject, so I had every intention of traveling this holiday weekend – Lomé, Kumasi, Tamale, Accra… but sadly resigned to stay home.
Aside from a brief display of patriotism in which I forgot the opening words to the national anthem, my middle school aged neighbors and I explored the nearby town of Klefe /kleh-pay/ for the day.
Chantal (right) is sassy as they come. She dances to Azonto – which she simultaneously considers devil worship – and recites Biblical verse perfectly. Elizabeth (left) has impeccable English and good grades. She dreams of visiting Mexico because apart from the US, that’s probably the only other western country she’s heard of – coincidentally from a black market film about drug running and sexual promiscuity.
Klefe Falls may not be as impressive as Wli Agumasta, but a 30 minute walk beats a 3-hour tro-tro ride. Although, if I get malaria, it’s because the only mosquito bites I’ve received so far have been at Klefe…
In other news, I got new drafts of my Marshall and Fulbright out to my editors’ inboxes and a professor’s sponsorship for my Master’s candidacy in the UK.
Chalk this weekend up for a win!