Ghana anyone?

It's Ghana fever in Accra in anticipation of tomorrow's 50th anniversary of ditching the British. Productivity is at an all time high in Accra. If you're a painter in Accra these days, you're a busy guy/gal. All the sidewalks have to be lined in white paint and almost every single building in the city is bedecked with the Ghanaian flag. Even the open sewage is being cleaned out (heaven forbid that we do this regularly! ). People are peeing and sweating red, yellow, and green.

In Accra, there is also this huge trade exposition area the size of 6 football fields that is supposed to be a trading area in the city, called "Trade Fair" with all sorts of buildings for vendors and traders, etc. Every year there is a . . . well, trade fair put on for about a week and vendors and businesses set up shop to sell anything and everything in the usually deserted stalls and halls. Yes, usually this place is almost empty! It's so weird. It's as though the 50th independence anniversary brought out THE Accra that was meant to be, but can't quite be bother to be in real life (as in, not during 50th anniversary celebrations). All the roundabouts are usually decrepit-looking or covered with old potato sacks. Now, they're bright white and freshly painted. All the streets are being cleaned and the traffic is not crazy. Maybe I'm crazy.

The exciting part is that you can buy an industrial gas station fuel pump, a wedding dress, really tacky furniture, and delicious jamaican goat curry all at the same place. I love Trade Fair; it's so hot right now. My roommate Lindsey has got to be the most excited person of all. We're going to get fully decked out in Ghana 50th gear. She even got Ghana 50th fabric from her work the other day. We bought Ghana 50th umbrella hats and are ready to rock; this anniversary is not going to know what hit it. I even saw a car that had a Ghana flag draped over its windshield. OBviously, the 50th is more important than road visibility. At least his horse has eye-holes cut out for him; it's such an animal! And I was totally not joking about the wedding dresses . . . a polyester explosion waiting to happen.