A couple of days ago I gave one of my sandals to our friend and local cobbler, Joseph. The sandals were I gift to me during my work for a software start-up in Seattle, and though I would never spend $80 on a pair of flip-flops, if I did it would be another pair of these. The brand is Olukai, for those that are interested. Anyway I wanted to get them fixed while I was in a country with affordable shoe repair.
Today, knowing full well that the repairs would be finished, I walked into town barefoot, holding my remaining sandal in hand. Joseph wasn’t around and I quickly discovered that he had traveled to Accra for supplies. Already in town and pretty disgusted with the idea of putting on socks and shoes, I decided I’d just remain barefoot until he got back. I walked over to the bean lady’s spot, but alas! She was also nowhere to be found. I wish I could put her name into this story but everyone just calls her “Boboto,” which means, “The bean one.”
A random passer-by told me that there was another bean lady in town. On recollection, I remembered seeing her. She doesn’t have a spot though, and instead travels, beans on head, doling out deliciousness on every street corner from here to high heaven. What commenced can only be described as a Pacman-type adventure in which I was one of the angry ghosts and the bean lady was Pacman–or Ms. Pacman, we’ll say. At every intersection I would say, “Boboto de?” which translates roughly to, “What of the bean lady?!?” and people would point this way or that. After traversing most of Anloga, I tracked her down and procured my lunch. Not as good as my usual girl, but I was satisfied.
I returned to the office, my feet raw, my newly shaven head sunburned, my belly oh so full.
We just got back home from another delicious meal in Keta. I told the manager of the local bank that I was leaving soon and he invited us out to have some Cognac. I didn’t drink, but the company was top-notch and so was the food. He also invited two wild cards: a pair of Cuban volunteers who are working in the local hospital. Spanish practice commenced, as well as a brief salsa session. My Spanish and Ewe collided horribly, but there were moments of clarity. Occasionally I conveyed an idea successfully and I was able to understand a bit.
Tomorrow I’m off to say my goodbyes up in Ho and take care of some Lumana-related shopping. I’ll try to take some pictures so I can prove I’m not making it all up. :D