How many hours did I travel? I've lost track. I'm not even certain I have the day correct. I'm in a hostel in Accra, a clean, walled compound. I'm too tired to write much for now. I left New York at 9am on Tuesday and here I am at 9am a day later, but I think the time difference is 4 hours, so it took me about 20 hours to get here. I'll post more later today.
I got some sleep and now can start to think about what I've observed. Accra, not surprisingly, reminds me of Dakar up the coast. When we landed, before dawn, I was shocked to see the physical extent of the city, endless lights off to the horizon, one of the many urban sprawls that populate the Third World. The cab ride from the airport to my hostel revealed a swirling, thrashing mob of humanity all seemingly in competition to survive. Everyone demands money; there is no relaxed commerce in Accra. Driving is a blood sport with little quarter given by anyone. Not much different from Los Angeles, I guess, but here we're competing for life not just to get the best manicure.
I'm beginning to realize why I liked Zimbabwe so much. There a third of the population has migrated south to South Africa for opportunities not available at home. That leaves a less crowded, less hectic nation behind. In Ghana there is no such release valve. You make it here or you starve.
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