What can I say...they've only been here 24 hours and already the girls have travelled the whole length of the country from Accra to way-out Zebilla (via plane, tro-tro-insane and all kinds of automobile) weaving their way through a whole mix of emotions along the way...there's been smiles and laughter, confusion and chaos, shock, awe and fear! I don't think the girls really know what to make of Ghana after their first few hours... I'm just hoping they'll still be here when I get up in the morning! (Good thing is I'm up at 6, and I think the fear of the bus journey back down south mixed with my promise of eggy bread in the morning is likely to keep them here for a while, phew! :-).)

I am over the moon to have more visitors, it's really amazing to see friendly faces, familiar from back when life was normal and my feet were firmly on solid western ground, right here in Zebilla ready to take on the crazy ways of African life, and step right inside my blog and see for themeslves what all my crazy waffling is about! Do you really drink water from a plastic bag, eat sloppy stew with your fingers, get woken up by happy church goers at 4am, and see pink chickens running about the place? YES! It's all true, and already the girls are getting their own taste of it.

Lucky for them they had the comfort of a flight from Accra to Tamale (I figured this would increase the chances of them not hot-footing it out of here just yet!), and a taxi ride from Tamale to Bolga. This soft landing was essential, saved them plenty of energy for the real stuff that was to follow!

The next few hours were all about orienting with the all important practical stuff... such as how to manage your water intake so as not to dehydrate but at the same time so as not to need to pee at all on any of your travels; how to locate the nearest 'place to pee' (there's no point caling it a 'toilet') when you don't quite get it right and are desperate to go ('I need to break water' and 'I need to urinate' are two of my most-used, and perhaps strangest, phrases in my vocab here); how to avoid tripping over animals / falling down the holes / being molested by hundreds of children who want to cary your bags, when weaving your way through the market; how to identify essential foods (such as tomatoes that look like mutated round red aliens, oranges that are actually green, and limes that are called 'lemons' and look just like potatoes...!); how to keep up with all the 'hellos!' 'Nasara!'s, general greetings and 'I want to get to know you!'s as we muddle through the mix of people meandering about the place; and how to handle the inevitable 'you will be my wife!' demands that have been swung politely, humorously and assertively in our direction in the last few hours. Impressions overload, that's what happens when you first arrive!

Their first tro-tro experience was not a bad one - the wheels stayed on, no fights broke out, and we were all 30 humans no animals squeezed inside the rickey contraption, not bad going really. In Zebilla we were met with grey skies ( a very strange phenomenon here...) and even some drizzle (I honestly thought that was only an English thing, what on earth is drizzle doing in Ghana?!!), which was not pleasing to Marianne and Lisa who have spent their whole rainy summers in Norway dreaming about hot yellow African sunshine! Well, there's time...

What has followed since, can only be described as the Zebilla 'self-catering' experience... no supermarkets, no takeaway, no local delicatessen, no fresh food in the fridge because market day was days ago... and two weary travellers hungry for some decent food (now that the travel is over and they can eat and drink again!). So we waited for a gap in the (now heavier) rains, and trundled off to market, something that at home would probably take about half an hour, but here took no less than about three. We crossed streams and rivers, climbed muddy banks and followed rain-drenched sandy lanes, it felt more like Indiana Jones than an innocent popping out to get some food. Half the people I know in Zebilla happened to pop up along the way, and everyone wanted to greet / marry / have a photo with the white ladies of course. At market the crazyness was intensified by the threat of more rain - sellers were trying to sell super-fast, shoppers were hurrying about this way and that, and the sheep and goats that had managed to make their way in were trolloping about knocking over piles of okra, bowls of beans, babies wobbling on the floor, and leaving a generaldestruction in their wake. With all of that plus the general chaos of colours, smells, sounds and sights, it's no wonder Marianne and Lisa weer starting to look a bit dizzy!

And then... it rained. Not drizzle this time, but instead a huge heavy typical African downpour, and with it came night, just like that, so here we were huddled under the shelter of a market stall, watching the wet world whizz by and wondering how on earth we were going to get home! Luckily some Ghanaian guys were kind enough to let us sit by their hair shop, so we sat there surrounded by hair pieces and wigs and weaves, and just watched the watery mud bath grow around us as shoppers, sellers, market ladies, and men with donkeys slipped through the rain and into the fuzz of the dark streets heading home without waterproofs, with only flip flops or sandals, and with huge bowls and bags and stacks of goods high on their heads!

It was a funny sight when we eventually did make our move, three little white women, wrapped in blue plastic bags and armed with nothing but our loaves of bread and bags of onions ...tottling back down the sandy paths now streaming with rain-water and lit only by moonlight...no wonder by the time we got back the girls were looking a little bit shell-shocked! Part of me was a teeny bit worried they might be wondering what on earth they had let themselves in for... but another part of me knew that really once the shock and confusion subside (and when they've got food in their bellies) they'll probably love it... They wanted to see what it is really like, well...welcome to life in rural Ghana!

With love,

Em

Xxx