The way to a woman's heart...

Is through a can of tuna? I have heard of and at times even been offered the more traditional tokens of love in the form of flowers and chocolates and teddies (of the bear and neglige kind), but a can of tuna? Well, this is what happened to me yesterday, as I was buying some juice at a kiosk in a tro-tro station. A man came up to me and asked me whether I was that girl who worked for the Peace Corps, to which I replied in a yeah-like-I-haven’t-heard-that-one-before-manner, “no, you must have me confused with another obruni.” Not at all discouraged by my sly remark, the man then proceeded to explain that he wanted to become my “friend” (of the more-than-just-friends kind) and offered to buy me a can of tuna as a testament to his undying love. I politely refused. Surprised that I would decline such a heart-felt proposition, he then offered to buy me a hard-boiled egg. The charmer! Of course, I was almost tempted to accept because hey, he certainly merits a few points for originality, but reason triumphed over emotions (and/or sense of humor), and I bade farewell to my Don Juan de Tuna, continuing on my merry way with the firm conviction that I had just lived through a wonderful introduction to a blog entry.

Strange seduction techniques aside, all continues to be well. I had an amazing time at the beach last weekend. After an uneventful and surprisingly rapid tro-tro trip, Melinda, Chantal and I arrived at the Safari Beach Lodge on Friday afternoon, meeting up with Jacques, Gislain and Brad who had come in the day before. Though the girls left on Monday, I extended my stay until Tuesday, heading back to Accra with the boys. I was thus treated to four full days of complete and absolute decadence, gorging on James’ incredible cooking, frolicking in the waves and reading magazines in a hammock…all of this done in the company of my lovely friends. The lodge remains as I had remembered it, a little piece of paradise overlooking a breathtakingly beautiful ocean and it offers some much needed peace and quiet after the craziness that is the Ghanaian capital.

It was rather hard to come back to Accra, might I add, and I suffered through another painful bout of beach withdrawal. But a week after the fact, I am now healed and fully reintegrated into my little routine, which is good since there isn’t that much time left for me here in Ghana. With only seven weeks to go, I’m seeing the end fast approaching and realizing that I still have quite a few things that I want to accomplish before heading back to Canada. So the next little while promises to be quite busy, with work and interviews to do for my research, a few projects to finish up for SWAA, some extensive shopping to complete and of course, some more quality moments to be had with my friends in Accra. Though I am very happy here and I know that I’m going to miss Ghana a lot when I leave, I’m also starting to feel pretty excited at the idea of coming home and seeing my family and friends again. How I have missed you all!

But for now, there are more adventures to be had and more strange Ghanaian cruising techniques to be discovered.

So until next time my darlings, I wish you all the best and send you much love from sunny Ghana.

Gros bisous mes poulets
Sophie

About the pictures, in no particular order: the postcard-perfect sunset at the Safari Beach Lodge, Gislain and I after a hard day at the beach (I just want an excuse to show off my tan...apologies to all those snow-bound folk in Montreal), a picture that my sister took a while back at the 37 tro-tro station (where the man tried to seduce me with the can of tuna), an adorable little girl when we climbed Adaklu mountain, Elizabeth, Melinda and I after conquering the said mountain (see, it is steep!), an apple-seller on the street

And they called it puppy love…

You must be curious to find out what could possibly lead me to disrupt the otherwise peaceful balance of my blogging schedule and dare to both miss a Friday and post on a Wednesday (oh my, the sacrilege!). Well, my darlings, the answer is clear and simple: I am in love.

We had met a few months back, but it’s only over the past few days that our relationship has really caramelized into something more serious and meaningful. His name is Alfred. He’s originally from Mexico, and was living in Canada before coming to Accra. He’s cute as a button, smart as a zipper (?), loves food and has the most beautiful big brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Sure, he’s also in a relationship, but I don’t really mind because I’ve also gone and fallen head over heels for his significant other, Philomene, equally as charming and beautiful. We’ve been spending our days and nights together, watching movies, cuddling and just enjoying each other’s company. Now before you go and start getting all these crazy (and possibly dirty) ideas, I should probably specify that the object(s) of my affection are four-legged (each) and probably weigh a whopping combined total of 30 lbs, if even. They are Jacques and Gislain’s chihuahas, though I’m considering staging an elaborate dog-napping scheme, such that they will in fact become MY chihuahas.

Their friend Brad visiting from Ottawa, Jacques and Gislain have set off on a cross-Ghana caravan tour, leaving a mansion and two precious little creatures to be cared for. Being the generous and giving souls that we are, Melinda and I volunteered to take on the daunting task of house/Chihuahua-sitting. Sure, it’s not easy, but someone’s gotta do it. And so it is that since this week-end, we’ve left the comfort of our little rooms and grimy under-stocked kitchen to settle into a two-storey/three bedroom complex, complete with pimped-out kitchen, washing machines (bye-bye buckets!) and entertainment room (large television, huge DVD collection and even an X-box, though the estrogen levels in my body prevent me from fully appreciating the excitement of this latter gadjet). Add to this the loveliest, most well-behaved, low-maintenance and affectionate puppy-dogs, and you end up with something quite close to heaven (Belinda Carlisle was right).

And the worst part in all of this, is that after a strenuous week looking after their luxurious home and charming chihuahas, we get to go and meet up with Jacques, Gislain and Brad at the Safari Beach Lodge. Yes, the same Safari Beach Lodge where I rang in the New Year, under a starry sky overlooking the ocean, belly filled with James’ amazing Texan fine-dining (yes, apparently there is such a thing). We’ll be going from Friday to Monday, though I am considering offering my services as bucket-laundry-woman (I’ve developed quite an expertise in the last months) and staying there permanently. I’m sure my parents and supervisory committee will understand.

So needless to say that life is and continues to be rather sweet. And for the cherry: my itchy-skin-sister Pamela has given me some hardcore cortisone cream to treat my leprosy, and I am a few scabs away from being completely rash-free! If it weren’t for those fifteen pounds I’ve gained since being on the Accra-Beach diet (pretty much the anti-thesis of the South Beach diet), I’d be pretty excited at the prospect of spending the weekend parading around in my bikini.

So my lovelies, I will be back in touch next week with a full report of my beach-side adventures.

Until then, I send much love from this little piece of heaven on earth.

Gros bisous mes zoiseaux xxx
Sophie