…which means ‘I’m resting.’
This has been a bit of a week. most of my stuff was taken on Tuesday as I went to the 4am bus (I just have no luck with the 4am bus at all), meaning I have to undergo a trial by electronics as I try to replace the necessary things. A whole team of people in England and Ghana are helping, and everyone here has been extremely nice, so the annoyance is being minimised.
The most annoying thing, in fact, has been reporting it to the police, who took all my remaining cash in return for making the report I needed for my insurance claim. I explained that when someone takes all your money, that means you don’t have money to bribe the police to report it, but the logic was beyond them.
So… I am here a few more days, still trying to get to Wa. I am starting to think that Wa is a cruel conspiracy to make foreigners run around like headless chickens. And I am wandering around Tamale, replacing the stuff that was taken. Looking for toiletries (I have the wrong skin, the wrong hair and the wrong taste to do this here, so it’s a challenge) all I can find is skin-whitening products, when in fact what I need is factor 50 sunblock. The skin-whitening industry is an odd one – women mix these products with steroid cream to thin the skin and then to whiten it, which as you can imagine, is not a great skincare regime in a place where they used to use sun exposure as a death penalty for recalcitrant slaves. And Nivea, which I used to think of as a nice, responsible brand, is one of the 15 types available. What is the world coming to?
So, m’fou khiah, in an effort to have a third accident-free day.