She Sells Sea Shells By The Sea Shore

All week I have been telling myself to go check email and write in my blog. Well, that didn't happen, the same for everything else on my agenda, so I feel a bit behind...

I do not understand how a girl born in raised in San Diego, California can forget her swim suit. I'll make this the last time I complain because everyone here has certainly heard an earfull. But, seriously, seriously. Thanks to Julie though, hopefully I won't be suitless much longer.
Last weekend, ten of us headed off to the beach, a weekend escape. We ventured out about an hour and a half away to Kokobrite. Minus having a flat tire, the journey was a breeze. Once we arrived I knew it was going to be a total break from reality, well at least for the most part. I had to keep reminding myself the whole weekend, that soon it would end, and all the good food and waves would not follow me when I return to Accra. Don't get me wrong, I do love Accra, but Italian food, milk shakes and the beach??? The beach was beautiful, and I collected dozens of shells, the swirlly kind which are my favorite. I found that the best way to find shell was to recruit the ten kids that were following me yelling "obruni." Of course I ended up giving most of them away, for suddenly they had become such a hot ticket once I was after them. The water was perfect, nice and warm. Although I felt like a hick swimming in cut of jeans in the Mission Bay, I went in my shorts and tank top, and did not get out for hours, or at least what felt like hours. That night and the next we "slept" in tents inside Big Milly's Beach Resort. I distinctly remember dozing off to a Ghanaians passionate rant about Mr. Bush, only to be woken up by the screams coming from a neighboring tent. Rest assured, it was only the girls imaginations that provoked it. In between sleeping and froliking on the beach we were all at the Garden Italian resturante up the road. The food was amazing!!! Now my cousin who is in Italy and reading this may scoff, but hey, Italian food in Africa, I'm down. So, that's pretty much it. Beach, music, food and oh, domestic violence. One night some of us were chatting and listening to music, when we realized that behind us a couple was arguing. The next thing I saw sent chills down my spine, he hit his girlfriend, in public. After retrieving the bartender, we heard the him telling the man that this is bad for business, and that he didn't care what he did outside of his bar, so just take it outside. I could not believe how easily he dismissed such violence. Jane, the girlfriend ended up sitting with us for a while as we tried to comfort her. I can still not shake feelings of outrage and frustration. It breaks my heart that domestic violence is such an accepted part of the culture here, and I am interested in the research some of my friends here are conducting on the subject. I am not sharing this because I want to create some demonic image of Ghanaian men or anything, it just amazes me that women accross the world can still be treated as such second hand citizens. I don't know the point I am trying to make here, or even if there is a point...
Moving on....So minus the shake up, the weekend was marvoulous!