April Showers Bring May Flowers to Rancho Relaxo….NOT TODAY!

I guess I should say, “NOT QUITE YET AND I AIN'T HOLDIN' MY BREATH!”. You see, this is central California. We don’t do rain here. In fact, I think I heard that it was against the law to rain here!

 

You need to understand that, when it does rain, it doesn't make things grow; it just makes a mess of things. That's why we lament a “40% chance of rain” forecast. Let’s put it this way: a 40% chance of rain here means that there is a 100% chance that there will be just enough rain trickling from the clouds to make a mud hole of your car. That’s right! It doesn’t rain enough to even wash the car of your Mulberry tree’s droppings (or the bird droppings for that matter)! UGH! You come out to your car and cast an eyeball on it only to find that you only see brown. You don’t actually see the color of the paint.

Head for the car wash? Hah! You can’t because there is a 30% chance of rain that night. In reality that means that there is a 110% chance of your car becoming a mud pie again.

 

It has rained so little that we don't have enough flowers around here to even feed the bees. Connie finally did purchase some really pretty Pansys, though. Other than that, the wildflowers are gone and the weeds are on patrol to see that nothing else pretty blooms.

All seriousness aside, we do need what little rain we get around here. Our annual rainfall is about the equivalent of a week’s worth of rain in Tulsa so things stay sort of dry. Did I say, “sort of dry”? I meant to say, sort of toasted. We go from what little green we get in the winter to “California gold” in just a couple of weeks when April hits.

I think tomorrow's rain (or, dribble), was late for the train because it usually stops raining in March and we don’t see wetness until we go swimming in the lake or until October gets here.

If that isn’t enough to lift your elevator to the top floor, just when we run out of cloud-supplied water, our irrigation ditch water is shut off for 6 weeks for its annual maintenance overhaul (a state wide practice). I haven’t looked into the matter very deeply but I wouldn’t be surprised if this is vacation time for the ditch tenders and the supervisors. After all, just tell me what can go wrong with a ditch whose only moving part is the water? It is never flooded so there are no breaches in it and it’s only 2 feet deep. Hrumph.

I mean…just how are we supposed to water our lawn and garden without utilizing our pump? We pay good money (well…it’s fake money so I guess it’s lousy money but at least the ink is dry) for our ditch water. They should at least let us use it once in awhile.

When they do turn the water back on, I’ll need to have all of my irrigation system overhauled and ready. My impulse sprinklers and hoses are a mess from last year so I need to get the bowling balls out of my pockets and pick up a bit of steam around here.

That’s hard to do (picking up steam). My steam generator isn’t really putting our much pressure lately. Seems about a bucket of steam is all I can come up with. Just thinking about it makes me want to relax and go let off what little steam I have somewhere near a trout laden river. *SIGH*. What is an over-weight middle-aged white guy supposed to do?

Connie’s has commenced planting the “Rancho Garden” (or the "Stay Alive Garden" if the US economy turns to dust before our eyes). We have our four above ground 8’ x 8’ boxes filled with compost. So far, most of the plants have survived the first few days of life. You laugh…but…..we have a perfectly good blueberry bush that was planted in this same compost last year and it has not grown so much as one inch! In fact, it has lost weight!

Not only that, all the corn harvested from our seven corn plants last year didn’t produce enough corn to keep a baby duck alive for two days. We did manage to get some over-the-winter lettuce. I thought that was cool. Now the stuff has gone to seed. Did you know that lettuce will grow to a height of about three feet?! I had no idea.

Anyway, the tractor can’t trac since I haven’t bothered to put the new battery in it. It’s a perfectly good tractor too. She’s a dandy, that “Ranch Rino”.  The trailer can’t trail because it’s full of stuff from last year. That means that the garbage cans are overflowing with …stuff. You know what I mean; that would be the stuff that the local dogs and wild animals have sifted through looking for lunch. It shouldn’t take long to clean up the mess.

The pickup can’t pick since the driver’s side rear tire is flat. That means that I hope that the big air compressor can do its job and press a bit. The little trailer needs to have its fender straightened. Seem someone wasn’t paying attention and pulled it into one of the poles in the pole barn and whacked it (if you were to spit and I didn’t duck, you’d hit the guy that did it). Thankfully, the guy that overhauled the trailer last year said he could fix it and it’d be like new. I guess I’d better bless his heart too.

The good news is that theToyota Camry is still Cam’ing and the Ford Freestar van is still van’ing so all is not lost. They are two really reliable vehicles and we appreciate both of them a lot. The van is actually a dump truck in disguise. We haul just about everything known to man in it and what we aren’t hauling with it we are storing in it. It’s loaded up most of the time.

Imagine the fun we have when we actually have to haul folks to church in it! Can you spell “Chinese fire drill”? Connie and I look like an acre of male monkeys fighting for one female monkey holding a banana when we’re hustling about trying to get stuff stowed so we’ll have room for passengers.

Just exactly what do you mean by asking, “What’s with the front lawn looking like it was only mowed once and that was last year”? You have not been paying attention. I mowed my lawn once this year too! I do need to attend to it, I suppose, now that people are coming to the door asking for permission to hunt game out there. Reckon I could rent them my machete? It’s not that the garden tractor doesn’t work. It’s just that the tractor driver doesn’t.

We did hire a young man to take the weedeater for a walk. He knocked down the really high stuff and I’m about to teach him how to drive a lawn tractor. After that, we should have the Ranch looking like a million….uh….like a….uh….couple of bucks.    

Things are really moving along at church. We finished the membership classes and are going to issue the certificates of completion this week. After that, we can vote everyone in and give them the right hand of fellowship according to the “Treatise” and by-laws and such.

Someone left an abandoned septic tank in the church parking lot for us to deal with 42 years later. Cousin Rod Sanders pulled his big Ford Excursion into place only to see the right front tire sag a bit. When he checked it out, he found an 18” hole in the ground. The ground is stone hard there so that’s what kept it from becoming a real show stopper of an event. We tossed a ¾” chunk of plywood over it. Today, we had the tank evacuated. If you can believe it, there was more than 1,000 gallons of residual water and material still in it! Can you imagine that?! After we get a permit from the city to dig a hole and to put dirt back into the hole we’ll dig the tank out and haul it off.

They are requiring a permit because they “want to see that you do it correctly”! Say what?! They want to see if we dig a hole and put dirt back in …correctly? If that isn’t insanity gone to seed I don’t know what is! It’s actually theft from the public under the guise of utilizing the “tracking a septic tank that is no longer there” ordinance. Some day I hope to have enough money to fight City Hall.

Stay tuned for more of the wonderfully un-exciting missed-adventures of the two head honchos of Rancho Relaxo, Connie and Randy. Adios, muchachos y hermanos y hermanas, y companeros, y compadres, y mas y mas.

 

 

 

 

Spring Time at the Ranch

We are busy here at the ranch! We're in town, out of town, back in town, around town, and all over town. There's the computer biz, church biz, political biz, and even funerals to take care of! Then, there's the usual shopping and bill paying stints.

So, just how on earth does a busy computer dude get the time to sit down and hammer out a new blog posting? I suppose it’s easy. You just start downloading software on one computer and start a bug scan on another after making a coffee latte’. You just type really fast and squeeze it in. Works every time!

The weather has brightened up around here. We almost headed back to the house to get our shorts on while in Hooterville yesterday. I was hoping that the cool breezes might hang around a bit longer but it doesn’t appear that it will. It's already too warm for me.

 Hear ye! Hear ye! Hear ye! We have a new family member! More precisely, she’s a grandchild and she has come into this world weighing 6lbs 15oz and the tape measure says that she's 19” long. Her name is “Moira Anneliese Howden”. You may have to practice this one a bit. Connie is still trying to get it down. Me? Not so much.

 
She is a living doll!! Connie and I went down to Harbor City (Moira’s new mailing address) to visit with the family and to get to hold the little cutie. She’s definitely a Howden what with the tow head and all. Connie did most of the holding while I did most of the resting and taking a few pictures. Actually, I should say that I tried to rest. I looked up the Greek word for “grandkids” and it means, “forced exercise”. I used up a lot of engery playing with the kiddies but it was worth it.

It was a hoot getting to see them all again. There’s Thatcher (10 and the brains of the outfit), Liesel (8), the crew foreman, Cosette (5) the self-appointed family princess, and 2 year old Kuyper (rhymes with diaper. His life is still closely associated with them), who is the “scootch” of the family (he used to scoot across the floor on his bottom until he discovered that he had been born with feet).

He has been demoted to being the second place attention getter as well. Moira has just topped him. He really has his act down, though. It's amazing that a two year old can grasp the concept that, if he cuts loose with a blood-curdling scream or yell, he will ...absolutely will...get attention from someone. Perhaps he won't drag his "Terrible Two's" into the "Threes".

We spent two days with the 5 of them and had a wonderful visit. Did you know that it can be expensive being a grandparent? Did you know that "7-11’s" looooove grandparents? They have doormen who watch and wait for grandparents to pull up with a van-load of kids. They then show you all of their teeth while welcoming you in and sweeping the floor in front of you. They absolutely know that you will be happy to pay for whatever the kids pile on the counter after strip mining the place. And, after the haul, they know that they will all grab a "Slushie" on the way out. Oh, well. It’s a small price to pay for a great time.

I did come away from the visit with one of life's mysteries. Cosette had my undivided attention for about thirty minutes or so. She had a large plastic stern wheeler bathtube toy boat that had a hinged top on it so you could store other toys inside it. How is it that she could make more noise banging on that thing in just that short of time than all of the noise I made during all of last week....and I was using a weedeater?

“In the  jungle the mighty jungle……” Hoooo, boy!  The front yard at the Ranch looks like it could be hiding a few lions, tigers, and bears, and probably a dump truck. It’s hard to tell at this point. Seems someone forgot to hire a young and strong groundskeeper (I've about passed the baton on that stuff) and the place is overgrown with grass and weeds. UGH. The garden boxes need major help too. We had hoped to at least get them prepared by now but that didn’t happen.

We did, however, purchase a new batch of seeds and starts. We’ll have supplies for soups and stews this year. I may even shove a few spuds in the dirt for the cause. No garden would be complete without zucchini so we’ll have some this year too. It would seem that we’re off to a running start but, so far, it’s more waltzing than running. That happens when you run out of steam, you know.

Speaking of steam, since there is such a scarcity of it around Rancho Relaxo, Connie and I are going to be getting a couple of tricycles and then will glue a small traction motor on the front wheel. It appears that they can haul even a goodly sized gorilla like me around and they get great gas mileage (about 80mpg or so). The trikes have an advantage in that they have a nice basket on the back. Add another one on the front and you have a real SUV-cycle. There is a real possibility that we will have a couple of two-wheelers too. The trikes are 20” while the bikes are 26”. Big is good when you are as large as I am.

We haven’t taken the boat out yet. We have everything but the time and energy to wrestle it into and out of the water. The fish will just have to be patient and wait awhile. There are other ….ahem….fish to fry. That would presumably be the trout in the river up behind a friend’s house up on Balch Park Road. He just invited us up to catch a batch of them. We can do that. I can almost smell the trout grilling away as we speak.

The Ranch sports an entire closet-sized space full of rods and reels that need to go for a stroll. The tackle boxes are made of plastic but it seems to me that they are rusting. It’s definitely time to overhaul a few of them and get them up and running…or should I say, up and spinning.

There are just about every shape, size, and length of pole and combination rod and reel that you can imaging just waiting to catch fish. I prefer the ultralight rigs with 6 lb test line on them if I’m fishing for trout. For bass, I like a bit larger rig with at least 8lb test line. I can go all the way to 50 lb test if needs be and the reel on that rig is mounted on a “real” fishing pole!

Things are moving along well at the church. We have peace there and are a family. It has been while since I’ve been a pastor but it comes naturally so there are no worries about it. Our church is thriving and prospering and it is under continually prayer for its success. There's the monthly potluck coming up soon too. That's always a winner with the hungry amongst us. We have about 40 folks who attend with most attending regularly.

One lady, my aunt, has attended the church on and off since she was a teenager. Talk about “faithful”! As each week passes we are seeing church growth. It is easy to see us counting more than 100 souls as being in attendance by the end of the year.  

Well, that’s the latest from “El Rancho Relaxo”. There will be more updates when it is possible to do so.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's About Time

 

Well, things are moving right along at the ol’ ranch. We survived another doomsday (December 20^th). I think the problem was that people didn’t understand the Mayans at the time. Though a scientific people, they really just lacked common sense. The controversy and hysteria could have been avoided had they simply used a bigger rock. But, who’s to say?  

The terribly sad part is that there are so many other looming doomsdays well within our reach. The N. Koreans, lead by KIM SO ILL (son of Kim Jong Il, don’tcha know), are shooting off missiles and have even tossed a satellite into space (though not without depositing tons of space debris in orbit in the process…Geeeeee. Thanks, guys!).

Because they hate us, they are saber rattling as any good dictatorship would. It doesn’t help that their leader has exactly the same qualifications as ours (i.e. absolutely none other than being a professional oxygen thief) so I guess one or the other leader can effectively get us killed. Their leader is throwing money at his country’s military while ours is gutting ours so that he can take the money and spend it on health care for 15 million illegal aliens. Reckon we’ll need a lot of health care after the North Koreans, Russians, and/or Chinese lob a few nukes on our turf. Nothing like being medically prepared, I always say.

Connie and I are expecting some really tough times ahead. I’ve prayed that it not be for a few more years because there are a lot of things to accomplish and a lot of things to prepare for yet. We’ll see. At this point in history, and without some sort of miracle, it’s going to be impossible to avoid some sort of catastrophe and that’s just the man-made and engineered issues (i.e. the coming banking and financial collapse of America is not at all an accident).

IF we can squeeze it in, part of the Rancho planning is to get a couple of mopeds up and running and at least two more engines that will convert a bicycle to a moped. It may take me as long as two years get it all worked into the program.

In any case, we won’t starve unless the government (by Mr. Soetoro’s executive orders now in place) raids my small store of food and redistributes my “wealth”. That way I can be equally starving with my neighbors who didn’t have sense enough to prepare for hard times. Ain’t socialism grand?

I would like to have a bit of time to dial in our above ground garden boxes too. These things need to be up to max production this year. We did get some produce from the four boxes but we all but had to beg for it. We did exactly what a friend of ours did and even used the same composting but his crops flourished while ours didn’t. That needs to change. The best we can tell our eggplants were about ten bucks each, the tomatoes were all the way down to two dollars each, and the zucchini came in at around twelve dollars per copy. The only thing that didn’t cost an arm and a leg were the few potatoes that got planted on a whim. They grew but were rather small in size and number.

We have more good news to share about some of our latest blessings. As reported in the previous posting, I'm now the pastor of our church. The other pastor retired (rather ungracefully, I might add. More on that later) and is gone. In any event, I'm in the process of getting the place glued back together with a proper board of trustees and such. It will take some time to get through the transition period but everyone is upbeat and looking forward to the future.

The other pastor (unintentionally) left us with only a few thousand dollars in the bank. But, after only a few weeks, we now have a healthy bank account and a budget that’s been trimmed and tidied and ready to help move us forward with normal church functions and business. Our membership is increasing regularly and people actually want to come to church now because it's their home and they feel free to worship (which just didn't happen with the other man).

We had to take care of a situation where a woman was nominated as treasurer. But, come to find out, she really wasn't elected to the position due to the confusion generated by a particular board member who was pushing and shoving the process to his liking (prior to my being elected).  She is one of those types who is not there to serve the brethren and sisteren (sic) but rather is ready to rule with an iron tourniquet. The way it worked out was pretty cool. She pretty much hung herself with her long tongue so is no longer around to menace the church.

What is truly amazing is that this is a “Freewill Baptist” church. Who woulda thunk that ol’ Brother Ran would be a….a….Baptist preacher?! I figured I’d sooner be a Catholic nun! HAR! Actually….I know beyond any doubt at all that the Lord is leading and that I’m where I’m supposed to be. The two Rancho Relaxo ranch hands are truly thankful for this opportunity and are deeply humbled to be allowed to serve our church family with whom we have fellowshipped for about ten years. 

Another blessing happened a few days ago. A man called and asked if I took "old computers". I advised that I did, indeed (there’s an e-waste pile out near the driveway that is picked up from time to time). The next day he dropped off 1250 bucks worth of computer equipment including two desktop computers, a flat screen monitor, wireless mouse and keyboard, a nice large screen HP laptop, a thousand dollar server, and a bunch of peripherals and adjunct equipment, and such.

One of the computers is a big Dell XPS420 that is better and newer than my high performance Gateway!! Unreal! Just the other day I was giving thought about replacing my faithful old back up computer that I keep alongside my main work box. It's long in the tooth (about 8 years old) and still functional. But, it's running Windows XP and is getting tired. Lo and behold, I now have the replacement box in place and it’s running like a Swiss watch!! When I have the time, I’ll upgrade it to Win 7 from Vista. Later, when I have all that time left over from the Win 7 upgrade, I'll sell the server on Craig’s List and will likely get 500 to 750 bucks for it. I can live with that!

Also, on my days off (ah, yeah), I will now be the editor of our “Porterville Area Republican Association's” new newsletter, "For the People". No, I am absolutely not a Republican but neither are most of those in the association. These are mostly truly conservative "old Republicans" and not "neo-cons" (conning their way into our hearts) like most of our low-life lizard-hearted leaders who call themselves "Republicans" nowadays. Editing a newsletter shouldn't be a big deal since I've churned out a personal newsletter for ten years or so. There’s really not enough time to even keep up with my personal blogs and the soon- to-be-published church newsletter. But, I'll see if I can fit it in between putting the church bulletins together and hunting down the dreaded California pocket gophers that keep yard-napping my lawn!

In fact, we have a new Rancho “camper”. He’s one of the neighbor’s gophers. I recently managed to flush out and kill one gopher and his cousin moved in within a few days! *SIGH*. These things are truly a menace. They are not just fuzzy little critters trying to survive. They are varmints that need to be evicted by any means (and here I am fresh out of dynamite). I’ve tried gassing this latest interloper but he must have brought his mil-spec gas mask with him. Now, I’m in the process of trying to flush him out. But, he seems to be too wise for that and has, so far, managed to evade getting wet. He’s on a roll now piling dirt higher than ever. I think I’ll place a call to the “Central Valley Red Tailed Hawk Association” and see if they’ll send a few of their members over here. They can sit on the power lines and watch for the little furry bugger to stick his heads up so they can nab him for lunch.

This should really be an interesting year. Lot’s to do.  So, hang around the old watering hole and I’ll try to keep updates posted from time to time.

 

 

 

 

Ghana Part 5

Well…this is the last installment on Ghana. I seem to have run out of time to handle all of the matters at hand. For instance, last week I was elected to be the interim pastor of our church. I thank God for that, to be sure. But, it does mean a lot less time in the tractor seat, less time as “Farmer Ran” (my gophers are rejoicing… the neighbor’s gophers are rejoicing), and less time in the "Minnick Computer Service" bunker. Besides, I think I’ve about run out of information (though, more likely, I’ve forgotten several things).

As one may imagine, it was easy to sample a number of different foods in Ghana. And, though I'm not all that adventureous (probably has something to do with that large yellow stripe down my back), I did just that. But, there was a special culinary stand out. It was some sort of stew with a tomato base and that had wonderfully spicy meat (probably beef) in it that had a real kick to it. It was potent but wasn’t so hot as to scorch my tonsils. I asked for the recipe then promptly lost it! How nice. It wasn’t like the standard palm nut soup base like that used in making fu fu. For some reason the taste of that stuff got old very soon.

Pastor John Appia was ever the accommodating host. He made sure that Ol’ Ran was well taken care of. I’m glad I had only a few desires or wishes as I’m quite sure that he would have caused all things big or small to come to pass. One instance was when I mentioned if it were possible to deep fry the local yam since it was so much like a potato. In almost no time, I had a pile of deep fried yams that had been cut to look like French fries. Astonishingly, they not only looked like French fries, they tasted like them too! He also made sure that I didn’t run out of Chinese food. That was truly great since, after about three days or so, the local cuisine had lost its novelty. Had I needed a valet, John would have seen to it that one was close at hand.

During the normal course of affairs, John asked me if I would like to visit the Manhyia Museum in Kumasi. Since museums and I have a long time affinity for each other, I did answer “Yes!”. And, so it was. He took us there for the really cool tour. The tour guide was a real hoot. He truly was funny but few folks have such a dry wit or were so deadpan as he. He gave his opening spiel and then asked if anyone (it was just John and I) had any questions. John didn’t and I nodded and said, “No, sir”. He looked me right straight into my pretty brown eyes and said, “God bless you, sir”. Not wanting to make a complete fool of myself (reserving that for another time, no doubt), I did all that I could to keep from cracking up. It was difficult, though.

Our guide took his time and treated the two of us like we were the most important of any that would pass through the museum. He filled us with facts and figures and dates, timelines, and eras. It was amazing to learn so much of Ghana’s past. He even took the time to explain what the colors on the national flag represent. It was most interesting. Their cache of antique firearms was captivating, too.

In a previous part, we noted that the water was off all but two days while I was thre. To say that Ol' Ran missed his morning showers would be like saying Aurther Ashe missed his tennis shoes on game day. But, not much thought was given for the matter. It was not much different than camping out somewhere so “bucket bathing” wasn’t all that bad. However, wouldn’t you know that "Captain Spongebath" would outdo himself? Somehow, and without any help from a single person, I made it out of the digs….without my deodorant. Oh, brother. Now I was part of Kumasi's pollution problem. My first thought was that my only hope would be to try to find a burning truck tire and just stand close to it. Maybe just keeping close to an open sewer ditch would work. That didn’t happen either. I’m not sure if anyone else suffered given the fact that most folks (at least that I could tell) didn’t take very many showers or use pit stick. Anyway, I offended myself. Way to go, Pepe LePew. At least I didn’t have fu fu breath.

At other times, when the electricity was off, I couldn’t use my blow dryer. Now, that’s a “bummer dude” thing! Thankfully, I had Mr. Ball Cap close and was able to make due. It was either that or go “hairless in Kumasi”. Ummmmm….maybe not. I haven’t had a butch since I was about 7 years old.

During one of the few times I was able to use the Internet, I did get to contact Connie using SKYPE. Some of our contact was truncated because of slow connection speeds and sometimes I couldn’t contact her because of the 10 hour time difference. We managed to at least SKYPE a few times and then just use the phone a few times. That also meant that we did texting a lot. I guess I didn't get the memo about texting in a foreign country. The texts were 50 cents each. That doesn't sound too bad until you account for forwarding ten or twelve texts at a time sometimes several times per day. Do you suppose Ol' Ran was shocked when the texting bill was more than 400 dollars for the time spent in Africa? The word I like to use is "stunned". Next time do you think "Pastor Dummy" will read the fine print?

One Net session allowed me to use Google Maps to trace my travel route from the US to Ghana via the Netherlands. The route from Amsterdam covered France, Spain, Algiers, Burkina Faso, then Ghana. It was downright cool! An interesting note was that Google identified me as being in Ghana and brought up “Google Ghana” automatically! Amazing!

I missed having my morning coffee latte’s but knew that finding or making one was about as likely as finding an Outback Steak House next to Santa's place at the North Pole. So, the standard (morning) drink for this wayfaring stranger was Lipton’s Yellow Label tea (their original tea). It’s a good tea but I still prefer Luzzianne from the Midwest. Connie and I grab a couple of boxes of it when we travel to Texas and Oklahoma. Good stuff. We also try to pick up some "Cains" coffee too. I did break down and purchase a small tin of instant coffee and had that with the hot water served with breakfast one morning. Instant coffee just isn’t the same as the brewed stuff so I still have the small can. The worms may get it.   

Prior to departing the US I asked John if he drank coffee. He advised that he did, indeed, drink coffee. What he didn’t advise was that he didn’t drink coffee in Ghana. I brought him a pound of Starbuck’s coffee and assumed later that it would make a great shelf ornament and conversation piece for a few years. He may be able to trade it to the next missionary for some Lipton’s Yellow Label tea. Who knows?

On the last day in Kumasi, we departed the digs and headed southwest. I knew that I would miss the good folks there but also knew that I was getting weary of the African heat and such. Cousin Jimmy Sanders text’d and said that he thought that we would be heading to a place where they shot white folks and otherwise just cooked missionaries. I advised him that I heard that they were lousy shots even if they could afford the ammo and that I tasted too gamey to eat so I should be OK.

Leaving the digs was interesting. I had lots of stuff! Connie had packed three dump truck loads of goods crammed into one medium sized suit case! I had no idea how she was capable of that trick or how on earth I would get everything back in there! Somehow, I managed to get the job done but was afraid to open the suitcase later knowing that it would likely explode when I did. Not sure how I would break the news to Connie but I suppose that, "The suitcase has exploded, madam" would be the easiest and most direct way to do the job. She's pretty sweet; maybe she would smile and just help me gather the pieces.  

After about four and a half hours of driving, we made it to the small village where John was born and grew up. The best that I could tell, the place had hardly changed in almost 60 years. I shouldn't wonder. When he was born (1953), they were still issuing tribal cut marks on the left cheek. He said that they no longer practice that particular ritual. I don't know why I was surprised to hear that ritual marking of babies had ceased. It seemed to me that Africa was hardly out of the 19th century so why should their rituals change or stop?

I probably mentioned before that I wore the beautiful black and red shirt that John had custom made for me. It was part of the funeral attire for that occasion in the small village. His mother had died and the customary funerary is predominatly black. The symbols on the shirt mean “remember your roots”. I will see that I do just that.

Our accommodations were nice enough at the "Daasebre Lodge" there in the little village that was only a couple of hours from the coast. We unpacked and had lunch. They served us deep fried mackerel, spiced rice, and spiced black eyed peas. It was pretty good stuff probably due to the fact that none of it involved the palm nut soup base. Later, for dinner, we had deep fried ocean fish and deep fried yams. The next day, I was served spicy rice, a couple of fish the size of my hand (some kind of salt water fish), and a palm nut soup base with a fish and a chunk of “mystery meat” in it. I guessed that it was probably lamb or mutton and found that it was, indeed lamb. John said that it was prepared especially for me so that I could be “African”. It must have worked because I answered him in Akan.

The shower in my room was a small cubicle in the corner of the the room had no door and the walls of the cubicle didn't reach the ceiling. The shower bottom wasn't contained so that meant that water got on the floor. It didn’t take long to discover that the floor (being concrete) became a dangerous skating rink when wet. Giving the fact that I never actually learned to do anything well on an ice rink other than fall, I had to be quite mindful that I didn’t accidentally skid to Tulsa in the blink of an eye.

We departed the small, quaint, lively, dingy, sweltering hot, forgotten-by-Tarzan village and headed for a town on the coast near Cape Coast (the former capital of Ghana). I probably won’t miss the little village.

The ministry experience was also very satisfying. I taught on “peace” for a few nights in Kumasi and during the Sunday service at the church near Cape Coast. This teacher was well received which was a real blessing.

This trip had a tremendous and life-long impact on my soul. I saw, felt, smelled, and experienced things that simply were life changing. Most of it was difficult and even unpleasant and made even more so by a soul sapping heat. Will I go again? I went this time because I knew that I was called to go. If called again, I will go again. But, I hope to be more emotionally prepared to deal with a country where one third of the population lives on less than a few US dollars per day and the remainder are merely dirt poor. Most likely, the sense of awe and adventure will not be as prominent and I'll stay pretty close to a Chinese restaurant if possible.

An astounding fact was that there was never a hint of bigotry or racism any where I went in Ghana. This white boy was treated with great respect even in the depths of the slums of Kumasi. I truly did feel welcomed there. That also had an impact on me. It proved that it was possible to live without racial bias and to treat men equally. Though I was often the only Caucasion within a wide area and was a stand-out 6' 2" 235lb  minority figure, nothing presented itself that would cause me so much as take thought for the matter. It was remarkable.

One wonderful aspect of this trip was the confirmation that God loves His creation/His man and loves each and every one of them without respect of persons. Not one soul on this planet is less valuable than the other in His eyes. This marvelous revelation came when I worked at the homeless shelter in Longview, WA. Not one homeless or needy person was “off the radar” with God. We serve an awesome God.

A Rancho Relaxo update is forthcoming. It’s a new year with some old challenges mixed with new ones. We’ll see how Rancho Ran and Canning Connie (who just put up the latest jars of chicken and spinach) meet them head on.

Ghana Part 4

At left is a view of the front yard of the digs. The hedge was trimmed with a machete then a young man with a whisk broom spent most of the day stooped over and cleaning up the trimmings. All sweeping inside our out was done this way!

To the right is the "Central Market" in Kumasi. The city has about 2 million people in it and most of them were there

 





 
This sign probably needs no explanation but I can 't help wonder how large an issue this was before someone had to post a sign!





At right is the bed at the Desaabre Lodge. Spartan but adequate












The small sticker at the bottom of this electricity meter says, "Pay and Smile". Guess we're not the only ones who gripe about our utility bills

To the right is a shot taken from the front porch of the digs. They seem to take security rather seriously in Ghana. The entire country looked like a huge compound






This is definately a real Chinese restaurant with a real Chinese owner. But, make no mistake, you can still get "Fu Fu" and other local dishes. This place soon became my friend

To the right is a "roundal" with a herd of taxis zipping around it. All taxis have bright orange quarter panels and almost all of them are "Opels". At least ten percent of the vehicles on the road are taxis and even more at certain times of the day


                                                                                    

The Sahara Desert is a mind boggling wilderness. It seemed as though our flight over this place would never end. It is obvious that at some time in the past it was filled with rivers. Perhaps the "gold of Ophir" mentioned in the Bible was mined here

There are a lot of different things to see and observe in Ghana. One is that there are no paper towels to be found. I don’t think I even saw any in the markets. There certainly weren’t any in any of the restaurants. They did come around with a hot towel with which you could clean your hands. Likewise, I did find a sink in the dining area and it had a hand towel available.

There is a snack there that I’ve never seen any place else. It is a small plastic soda bottle filled with a mix of peanuts and cooked but un-popped popcorn. It was rather uninspiring but worth the effort and minimal expense (about a buck as I recall).

We in the US are not used to valets and such but Kumasi seems to have a lot of them. These guys are “Johnny on the sport” to help direct your parking efforts and to open your door for you. They even help you back up when you leave. They may get a small wage but my guess is that they work for tips. So, it is customary to have a handful of change with you wherever you go.

Because of the poverty there, most individuals drive small cars and many have motorcycles. One such cycle is a cool utility three-wheeler with a pickup bed on it. It appeared to have about a 200cc-250cc engine and was made in China (JinHao brand). I observed one such three-wheeler that was toting three large cow heads. Another was hauling a load of coconuts and another had 5 guys piled on it. These are Handy gadgets, to be sure.  I would love to have one of these little haulers.

Lining virtually every major street were what I called “shanty shops”. They could be made of wood but many were made of metal. The metal ones tended to be either 4’x 4’ or 8’ x 8’ while many wooden ones were smaller yet. The metal ones also had a single large metal door that was closed and locked at night. Venders sold everything from soup to nuts. I suppose that the owners of the small wooden spots simply tote their pots and pans and wares off for the night.

Can you imagine being in a large city (a city with 2 million people seems large to me) with cattle grazing in the median with two lanes of traffic whizzing by on either side? It was a tad difficult for me, too. But, here was a herd of ten cattle lazily noshing away at the scrub grass that was doing its best to survive. I can’t say that I blamed them because there was very little other grass in the area on which to graze. They don’t exactly have “Farmer’s Feed and Supply” stores there. In other places, goats were seen wandering about thither and yon seemingly unattended and un-owned while others were in attended herds.

Hawkers were everywhere. There were hundreds of them. Most were in the medians or alongside the street at every intersection that had a traffic signal or stop sign. There was little that you couldn’t purchase whether a bag of water (yep…a 12 oz bag), popcorn, bread/rolls, coconuts, casaba, newspapers, or a cell phone charger. I didn’t see any bowling balls for sale. They descended in droves upon the stopped vehicles. I felt guilty for not buying something but later was comfortable just simply smiling and shaking my head, “No, thank you”.

The huge number of taxi’s was almost mind boggling until you stopped to think that most people there don’t own a car. Some don’t even own a bicycle so taxi’s are their primary transport. My guess is that more than ten percent of the cars on the road were taxi’s.

The preferred car for a taxi is the Opel.  That was surprising to me but apparently they are roomier (not sure how that can be because there are almost no large vehicles there). There are two versions of the Opel taxi: the “short put” and the “long put” with the “long put” being more like a station wagon. All taxi’s have orange quarter panels. I don’t recall seeing a radio of any kind on any of them. Many are LNG powered.

Because of the lack of consistent refrigeration, many juices come in cartons similar to what I’ve seen used for chicken and beef broth. They are very practical containers but the lids are difficult to open. Being part gorilla with a great deal of upper body strength (prehensile tail not required), I felt that I was up to the challenge of opening my juice box without the assistance of even the most modest of modern tools. I tugged …and… tugged… until the lid ….suddenly…..and violently…gave way. The purple geyser that ensued was a real photo op. Most unfortunately, my entourage of professional photographers missed their plane and weren’t on hand to catch this epic event. Once again I will not make the pages of “National Geographic Magazine”. *SIGH*.

Well, being baptized in grape juice isn’t all that big of a deal, I suppose. However, there are no paper towels with which to clean up the mess. I had to be creative and sacrifice a sock to get the ocean of purple off the floor.

The presence of Muslims is prominent. Approximately 15%-16% of the population in Kumasi is Muslim which is to say, they are everywhere. It seemed to me that most were goat herders. An interesting fact is that almost none of them are from Ghana. They are from just about every place but there. Yes, they are being “imported” as part of the “jihad” to conquer the planet. They are literally “going into all of the world” for Allah. It is working quite well.

Mosques there are sponsored by a particular sect or group of Muslims from other nations. Most are fairly nice and seem to be comparatively prosperous while others are situated in a rundown neighborhood and are rather squalid. In one spot there was a huge beautiful new mosque parked in a really rundown neighborhood.

The best that I can tell, the folks in Ghana have no idea what a box springs and mattress are. They have a mattress, to be sure. But, it is mounted on the floor or close to the floor. I slept in four different beds in three different cities and all were the same. The bed that I am used to is high enough to accommodate several guitar and fiddle cases under it (it’s on risers). Dragging my old airframe up off the floor was inconvenient but was not a punishment.

Did you know you can get “bush meat” in Kumasi? You probably can’t imagine just why anyone would want to eat bush meat in Kumasi but it is available. I may have mentioned it prior, but you can order yourself a heapin’ helpin’ of a large jungle rodent called an akrante. I do like to try new things but never found myself hungry enough to experiment that much with my diet. I’m betting that it probably tastes like chicken or the squirrels I shot alongside a creek bank in Kansas in 1960.

It was a bit unusual to notice that there were no water heaters there. It really does make sense when you stop to think about it. Who would waste good Cedi’s (the national currency) on raising the temperature of water when you are always trying to find ways to cool off? A “cool day” Ghana is around 85 degrees! If anyone needs water for the dishes, they just heat a bucket of water on the stove. The water out of the tap is usually about the same as a swimming pool so you can cool down some. That is, of course, to say that you can do so if water is actually available. It was available once per week while I was there. That quickly explained all of the 5 gallon buckets full of water that were stored in the huge shower area of the digs. Amazing.  

No one drinks coffee in Kumasi and probably elsewhere in Ghana. They all drink tea. Most drink Lipton “Yellow Label” tea. I drank it in Kumasi and I drank it in Accra. I later found out that “Yellow Label” was the original Lipton tea. In the US we drink the orange pekoe blend. However, I did find that the “Yellow Label” tea is available online. I like both and brought a box of “Yellow Label” back with me. I truly did miss my espresso maker, though.

In a Kumasi market (which reminded me of the “Minkler Cash Store” on Hwy 180 east of Fresno, CA what with the wooden floor and such) I did run across some bags of tortilla chips. That was a bit of a surprise but not as much of one as when I was in Accra and getting ready to return to the US. I found tortillas, taco mix, and salsa! Who woulda thunk?

Pepsi Cola is somewhat of a rarity in Kumasi. Either Pepsi isn’t popular in Ghana or the Coke distributor shot and killed the Pepsi distributor (that actually happened in Thailand about ten years ago so….who knows). I did find a few cans at one particular market but Diet Pepsi was definitely not available at any time or anywhere (in fact, I don’t recall seeing any diet drinks there!). Bummer, dude. Coke, on the other hand, was in abundant supply. I am not a Coke drinker but was forced to slake my thirst with Coca Cola or water. Given the fact that water will rust your pipes, I drank a couple of Cokes and was quite surprised to find that they were made with real sugar. In other words, they tasted like they did when I was in high school (not many years prior to the trade embargo with Cuba where the US used to get most of its sugar).

Some foods there are still pounded into submission. The cooked casaba root is smashed into a dough ball with a long pole in a large wooden vessel. It takes about ten minutes per dough ball. I’ve seen them do it in TV documentaries but never in person. The dough ball is broken into servings, cooked in a soup base, then meat is tossed in which then makes it “fu fu”. The meat can be chicken, lamb, mutton, akrante, beef, fish (usually Talapia but smoked catfish is available), or what all.

 

Speaking of food, it was difficult to comprehend not seeing fast food restaurants at all. I did see a McDonald’s in Accra but that was the only one. Again, that’s probably due to the lack of disposable income there. Perhaps they should offer their version of the local fare and call it “McFuFu”.

They have their version of pizza there, too. However, it is a highly modified version of what we eat here. They don’t seem to use tomato sauce on their pizzas. That’s probably because the nearest tomato is several thousand miles away. Anyway, their almost-a-pizzas are not inspiring so I re-named them “edible frizbees”.

Radio newscasts are something else to listen to. They sound like a screaming and yelling match, an out of control political debate, or a preaching contest but brother John assured me that they were just relating the news. How weird.

The crows there are black and are about the same size as in the US but have a large white cape around their neck. How interesting. I saw mourning doves there too but they are somewhat smaller. They appeared to be about 75% as large as the ones in the US and resembled the “Diamond Dove” though not quite as small.

These are few observations. I’ll probably go back to a narrative next time. Stay tuned.

 

 

 

GHANA PART 3

Here's a local furniture store. Notice that you have to cross a deep and wide open ditch/sewer. If there wasn't a chronic water shortage, perhaps they could fill the ditches and float gondolas in them. NAW.

At left are the utensils used for making the starchy dough ball at the bottom of a soup called "fu fu". It's made by pounding the peeled cassava root with the long pole in the large wooden bowl. This picture was taken at the small house across from where I was staying (the digs).

At the right is a pub. Yep, a pub. Some of the night spots
were a bit more modern but not all that much.

At the left is the Kotoka International Airport in Accra, the capital city of Ghana. No other picture (lifted from the Internet) could have made this airport look better.









GHANA - PART 3

 

I must confess that, after seeing the airport in Accra (the capital), I wasn’t sure what to expect when getting ready to depart for Kumasi. The Airline that John selected was “Starbow”. We stood at the end of the line and waited for our turn at the counter. The ticket area reminded me of a checkout line during a closeout sale at a discount store in east LA. That any commerce could be conducted in the mass of chaos and confusion was astounding. Nevertheless, we wended our way to the ticket counter after only a long time.

Imagine my surprise as I neared the desk and saw a sign that said, “TAMALE”! My first thought was that I could purchase this Mexican food treat before boarding the plane. However, there wasn’t even a hint of the smell of cooking food and I was around six thousand miles from the nearest Mexican kitchen so that ended that.

It didn’t take long to determine that “TAMALE” is a city in northern Ghana and is its third largest city. It is heavily populated with Muslims and is also heavily populated with “NGO’s” (non-government organizations like the “Catholic Relief Services”, “Care International”, and “World Vision”).

 

After getting our tickets, we were required to wait in a special area prepared for passengers. It was a large tent with a half dozen swamp coolers with misters. It was comfortable enough given the fact that there was no other A/C available. It was still a bit warm for me but at least the chairs were hard and uncomfortable.

My first guess as to what aircraft that they would be using wasn’t a pleasant thought. I could see a 60 year old four engine Douglass DC-6 prop job with one of the motors temporarily (or not) replaced with a big block Chevy engine. Much to my relief they used a real modern jet liner, the BAE 146. The competing airline used an Italian-built 70 passenger ATR 72 turboprop airliner. Having both feet in the "Twilight Zone" wasn't too bad so far.

Prior to departure to Ghana, my dear wife had done a lot of homework about the environment there. Her primary concern was about mosquito bites. Africa has serious health issues due to mosquitoes and she wanted her husband back in good health!  That concern came about when we discovered the fact that you can’t even enter the country if you have not been immunized against “yellow fever”. In fact, when you de-plane and are standing in line, the very first document they demand is the immunization card and not the passport!  

So, nurse Connie began prepping me for the worst. She must have figured that there would be at least a bazillion mosquitoes (a bazillion would be roughly twice the current world population of mosquitoes) with which to contend. So, she doused all of my clothing in some sort of anti-mosquito preparation and loaded up my suitcase with “DEET” mosquito repellant. I had to promise to hose myself down with the stuff each day to ward off death and destruction. That made sense to me as I noted that a wife's "husband preparation program" is inversely proportional to her love for him.

My first morning in Kumasi found me grabbing my pump bottle of “DEET” and giving it a big squirt. An intelligent person would have first verified which direction the nozzle was pointed. My lack of intelligence was brilliantly and painfully reinforced as I shot a blast of that powerful stuff right up my nostrils. Can you imagine the joy in my soul when I realized that no mosquito would ever again be able to threaten my sinuses? Lest I try to protect my eyes too, I just trusted the treated clothing from then on. Guess I can’t be trusted with a loaded pump bottle.

The city utility services in Kumasi are rather “interesting”. The electricity is only on about half the time in any given part of the country. They suffer “shorts” and “longs” which is the local vernacular for the shorter or longer power outages that are suffered daily. These outages come at the most inconvenient times and keep the population angry much of the time.

I was never able to confirm the precise cause for this and neither can the natives. But, there are only a couple of excuses that make any sense. One is that they rotate service to the various regions because there is a shortage of resources. That didn’t appear to me to be the primary cause and others doubt that that is the case. Another reason is a lack of modern hardware including distribution resources and that may be a factor (though, again, not provable). It may be a combination of these items. To me, the preponderance of the blame seems to point to a completely incompetent and completely apathetic government. The government owns the electricity company which is named (drum roll, please), “The Electricity Company of Ghana”. In fact, when queried, the government smugly says, “Blame God” and sloughs the entire matter off.

The outages truly are inconvenient. Much of the time I took sponge baths in the dark or by the light of my cell phone. Not really a hardship per se but it did leave me with a greater appreciation for our system here in the US. Perhaps we can address the the sponge bath part later as we get to the matter of city water dysfunctions. Included in the dynamic is the fact that roughly 40 percent of Kumasi residents still rely on public toilets (recalling that Kumasi is a city of approximately two million souls).

The electricity there is a 220v system with a three pronged plug. You have to have a voltage converter and outlet converter to use appliances hauled in from the US (I did have the adapters). An interesting note is that they usually don’t have the double wall outlets like we do and most folks don’t have (or don’t need) a power strip. That means you can operate your TV or your air conditioner but not both. At the lodge in Ajumako my room had one outlet. I could use either the TV or the small coolerator. As it turned out, I used neither mainly because they only had one (uninteresting) channel on the TV.

Both at the lodge and at the digs, all of that high potency electricity was funneled into a single 30 watt light bulb. I never had enough light until the last night at the lodge in Accra. Only then was I afforded….two….30 watt bulbs. Is that efficiency or what? Having the extra light meant that I could use my video camera while communicating with Connie via “SKYPE”. That was a real treat. You can’t do that with only one bulb, believe you me.

More about the Ghahanian adventure when I can. Ta ta, for now .

You may have to copy and paste the URL's below to be able to watch the videos (I didn’t shoot the videos). If that doesn't work, then type in a You Tube search for the respective title.

VIDEO: In the Streets of Kumasi (You Tube) - 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BEvlsE91Q2E&feature=related

 

VIDEO: Kejetia Market in Kumasi (You Tube) - 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jbfXkBZ502U&feature=related

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GHANA PART 2

This is a shot of one of the side streets in the south part of Kumasi. A few streets were worse and a few were better.

 On the left is a picture of "fish and chips". The fish is deep fried Tilapia (in a wok) while the chips are actually a local yam cut to resemble French fries. You actually can't tell that they are yams unless someone tells you! Amazing. In fact, I didn't see a single spud the entire time in Africa.

The picture on the right is of the lane leading from the lodge we stayed at while in Ajumako. Note the clothing draped over the shrubs to dry. This is a very common practice there. The clothes dry very quickly in the hot African sun.

Ghana Part 2

 

The “digs” is located about 3 blocks or so from a slum area. I was soon to learn that that would be no worry. Seems that there are no gangs and thugs in those parts with which to contend. A few days later, I walked about 6 or so blocks into the slum area to purchase some batteries for my portable fan. The artificial wind it generated came in handy when the electricity went off (as it often did…as in about 50% of the time). Certainly, it was only after I had conferred with Brother John as to the wisdom of such a trek. “Not a problem”, he advised, so I headed down the paved street onto the unpaved street and started looking for my much needed “D-Cell” batteries. It wasn’t so much that “God was with me” as it was that “the Devil was not with me”. Works for me.

The national motto of Ghana is “Akwaabe”. It roughly translates as “Y’all are welcomed here”. Without controversy these nice folks take that to heart. The no few venders in their wooden huts and shacks were quick to say “Akwaabe” and “God bless you”. It couldn’t have been more peaceful or accommodating. I found the batteries and headed back to the digs. It would be several days before I again ventured out for such a walk. But, there was peace about the matter and I did need to reload my wireless internet pre-paid card.  

Some may want to ask, “Which side of the road do they drive on in Ghana?”. Well, the short answer is the right side (since 1974 when they switched from England’s bassackward way of doing it). However, in reality, they drive on whichever side of the road has the fewest holes in it and the least traffic at the moment. The first rule of the road there is that there are no rules.  

You can’t even begin to believe how they drive there! I’ve heard stories about Italy and France but, Ghana seems to take the Twinkie! Try to envision starting to make a left turn across 4 lanes of traffic (2 each direction) only to have one car turn inside you and two others turn on the outside! As often as not a motorcycle would be in the middle of all the turning cars too! If there was a 2 foot gap between bumpers someone WOULD edge there way into it! Unreal.  

Occasionally, they have the courtesy to signal you with their lights and/or horns. But, you have to be quick and sharp as to how to interpret the signals. For instance, if you are turning in front of oncoming traffic, you may get a quick flash of headlights signaling you to proceed with the turn. However, if you find the lights are flashing more than once and the oncoming traffic does not slow down and is beeping his horn, you have a different interpretation. What he is telling you is, “I see you and now you seem me. Don’t even move. Just breathe ‘cause I AM coming through!”. See how simple that is?

I wasn’t really fond at all of their practice of passing on hills and on sweeping curves (inside sweeping curves too!! ACK!). Every so often a horribly wrecked car, van, or truck stood as mute testimony of the foolishness of such practices. Yet, no one seemed to take notice or care that their lives were in grave danger.  

John thought it best to allow me to rest most of the first day at the digs. I thought that was a great idea and did just that. After all, I did have access to one of the (apparently) few air conditioners in town and I certainly was tired from all of the travel. He came to fetch me for supper that evening and then for lunch the next day. Guess what we had for lunch? How about Chinese food! Talk about being unprepared for that one! What a pleasant surprise! At first it was no big deal. However, after about three days of eating the local cuisine, I became a big fan of Chinese food and kept my chopsticks at the ready from then on.  

The local cuisine? Well let me tell you about the local cuisine, cousin. Most of it consists of fried/cooked/dried plantain (much like a banana but with a much higher starch content), coconuts,  beans, rice, palm nut soup base, chicken, lamb, goat, mutton, akrantie (a large bush rat), tilapia fish, smoked dried catfish, okra, yams (easily confused with a potato in taste and texture), casaba made into “garry” (a bland cereal concoction) and “fu fu” (a staple soup base into which you may toss a chicken leg or such), and any particular combination thereof. Kumasi is not all that far from the ocean so they do have access to seafood. However, it really doesn’t take long to tire of these elements and long for a nice juicy greasy hamburger and fries combo meal, spicy taco, a pizza, or even a meatball sandwich from a "Subway" sandwich shop. 

If one were inclined, he could eat a meal of “Whatchmacallit Stew” being brewed over an open fire next to the sidewalk or road. Some of these quick witted chefs gave their 4’ x 4’ wooden restaurant with open pit fire a high profile name like “Hollywood Restaurant” and “Jesus Saves Restaurant”. Well…just the same…."Ol’ Disinclined Ran", they call me.  

About the only roadside eating that John and I did was to nosh on some banana bread muffins (not quite as good as Connie’s, of course) and a highly modified Asian spring roll. I didn’t ask and don’t want to know just what the greenish gray mush was in the center of this tough-as-a-boot leathery roll that sold for about 25 cents.  John sent a couple of these hockey pucks home with me to snack on later but I was hoping to feed them to the local crows. I’m still not sure what happened to them but they quietly disappeared into the Kumasi ecosphere. Reckon God was watching over me.  

One roadside treat was the young coconut delicacy. I had never experienced the delightful experience of slurping down young coconut. The gentlemen who served us were armed with a utilitarian device known as a “machete” in most parts of the world (I forgot to ask what they called it in this part of Africa). The vendors hacked off the top of the coconut then you drank the coconut milk. After that, they hacked the coconut in half and you scooped out the soft gelatinous flesh of the inside with your top piece that had been previously hacked off. It was such a wonderful treat! I so seem to recall that everyone was quite polite to these young fellows. I shouldn't wonder.  

While the spicy Ghanian food didn’t upset my stomach, it did present my digestive system with some efficiency challenges. That simply means that getting used to the change in my diet precipitated a noisy change in my immediate environment. Within a couple of days my new African name was “Malfumee Mbooffo”.  

Don’t touch that dial (not that any of us are old enough to remember when they said such things on radio and television sets. In fact, todays TV's don't even have a dial!)! I should be fully recovered from the trip to Africa within about 20 years and should be fully lucid. Anyway, I’ll post another update as soon as the dust and smells of African no longer influences my thought processes nor affects my biorhythm.