So I've now moved beyond the first week in Ghana - and I am definitely a little less awkward. Mind you, a LITTLE. On manners: To get anyone to help you and to avoid being rude, you must greet and make small talk with nearly everyone. It is wonderful, though I'm finding that I have to re-train myself in the art of being chatty and incessantly cheery. The moment I found myself chastising another white person for not saying Hi to me (from another school's group, who likely DID NOT go through the orientation), I knew the Ghanaian manners were beginning to sink in. I also need to work on addressing older people as madam and sir- as I feel I have dug myself into a bureaucratic hole a few times already for this lack of respect.

I've now moved in to my permanent room, in the International Students Hostel on the outskirts of campus - about a 20 minute walk from the center of campus. I wanted to be placed in Volta Hall- one of the main women's halls near the center of campus - but there were only 4 spots available and I lost twice in a lottery for a room. So I am now living in a hall which will fill up with students from the US, Europe, Australia and almost all other African nations- particularly Nigeria I am told. There is a market that will be open mostly at night right across the road and a beautiful view of fields and trees, a red/pink sunset, and a primary school (children in blue and white uniforms playing and yelling woke my roommate Leanna and I up this morning). I'm pretty damn happy with the situation.

This weekend, the orientation group took a trip to Kumasi, in the central region. It was full of planned group activities, and a lot of hot-bus sitting. The student volunteers leading the excursion and most of the orientation include- Kodjo/Stephen (dresses like saturday night fever), Irene (the "siren" as the male volunteers say), Grace (the sweet and quiet leader), Kofi (history student tour guide with the humor and attention-needs of a 12 year old). On the way back to Kumasi, the bus stopped at a gas station opposite of a street dance party and half of the bus got off to join. After about 10-15 minute furious dancing surrounded by Ghanaian women cheering on my awkward gyrations, we hopped back on the bus and back into Accra traffic. I must now go, or I will be forcibly signed off the internet, but love to all. And thanks for the comments. This blog thing is pretty fun.