Obroni (O-Brew-Knee)

Obroni means "white person" in Twi (twee) which is one of the most common dialects spoken where I am living in Ghana. When we walk through town the children yell "Obroni!" to get our attention so we will wave at them. The Ghanaians generally stare at us when they see us and when we smile and wave then they will finally smile and wave back at us. Most of the adults always have serious looks on their faces so they are really hard to read. We asked Brigham (the director of the school) why they all looked so serious. He said their hobby is sorrow and the only activity they have is going to funerals. So the next time you are bored and feel like there is nothing to do consider how much worse it could be...

We just ended our first week of training with the teachers. Overall, the information we are presenting to the teachers seems to be received very well. The best part of being is here is when we get to play with the students. Sometimes I walk around to the different classrooms and come across a classroom of students that doesn't have a teacher for one reason or another. As soon as I walk in the students say, "Madam Robyn, please teach us!". It's pretty fun being the teacher. My lessons so far include spelling english words, hangman, and the students teaching me how to speak Twi. The older students really like teaching me how to speak Twi (mostly because they think it is hilarious to hear me butcher the words I am trying to say). I'm actually starting to get pretty good though. My favorite word so far is Effe (F-A) which means "be nice" and I tend to use it a lot around the kids.

The food hasn't been too bad but it hasn't been too good either. Thank goodness for Mac & Cheese and Ramen Noodles. The grossest thing I have eaten so far is something called Fufu (foo-foo). It is made from a root called Casava that is first boiled and then pounded into something that resembles bread dough. I thought they would bake it since it looked like dough but they don't. They form it into a small ball about the size of a fist and eat it in soup. I think it was the texture that I couldn't get past. The mutton in the soup with veins poking out didn't really help either. Our cook Pat brought us the Fufu and waited for us to try it. I took a bite and tried to keep a straight face while I choked it down. As soon as Pat left I tried to figure out how I was going to get rid of the food without wasting it (the Ghanaians never waste any of their food because it is so limited). One of the night security guards happened to walk in at that moment to introduce himself. Jenn and I both gave him our bowls of Fufu but told him to bring the bowls back to us and not to the kitchen because we didn't want Pat's feelings to be hurt that we didn't like the meal she had prepared.

We were very proud of ourselves for not wasting the food but things didn't quite goes as smoothly as we had planned. I saw Pat coming to collect our dishes before the security guard had come back. Jenn ran into the house and I tore apart the kitchen looking for two bowls I could get dirty with the last remains of Amy's Fufu so it would look like we had eaten everything. I grabbed Amy's bowl and the two clean bowls I found and ran into the apartment while Amy tryed to stall Pat. Amy called me a couple minutes later and said Pat was looking for Jenn and I. We walked out with the three dirty bowls to give to Pat and noticed Amy had some bowls as well. Apparently the security guard walked in right after Pat to return the bowls! I don't know if Pat ever caught on but I'm sure she wondered why we gave her so many bowls back. I'm just grateful I did not have to eat the Fufu.