Azonto
It's apparently a dance craze taking Ghana, Africa and the world by storm. It has its roots in Jamestown, the formerly English, currently shanty town part of Accra. The concept is simple: make dance moves that mimic your career/profession. So my Azonto moves might include scribbling frantically in the air with an imaginary pen, air pointing at an imaginary board and miming yelling at a student. Dora and Juliet tried it out in the clubs of Osu, Accra and were greeted with positive results. In fact, Dora's dance buddy even called a friend mid-Azonto to shout 'Hey, guess what? I'm dancing with a white girl!' down the phone. It's good to know men are idiots the world over. Handshakes
I've slowly come to master a traditional tribal handshake many people greet each other with. It's a lot like a handshake with a mutual finger snap at the end. I'm not doing it justice, but it's very, very cool.
And it also beats the awkward silence when someone you're saying farewell to addresses you saying: 'May God bless your family, may He bless your relatives, and may God bless you and may he bring you many, many children before you are too old!'
Food
The biggest complaint of our teacher master class students over the past week has not been about the teaching. Nor has it been about taking time out of their summer holidays to attend CPD. No. The biggest complaint has been about the food. To quote Olivia, a lovely Ghanaian English teacher: 'us Ghanaians need food that sticks here! (pointing to her ample hips) we need heavy food. Good food!' I took this opportunity to get Olivia's recipe for joloff rice (but only after filing the complaint that our tasty treats of bread, mini fried chicken and assorted sausage rolls was not cutting the mustard, as such.)
Then there's shito. Yes, shito. Shito. It's a spicy pepper condiment sold in jars that, unsurprisingly looks like shit-o. But it's pretty delicious. With rice. With plantains. With any of the uber limited vegetarian options here. So good that I'll be taking some home with me.
Clothing
The big deal in women's fashion in Ghana is to buy fabric and material then take it to your seamstress. It's colourful, trendy and fit to each person's body type. See, I really was trendsetting in the sixth grade when I wore those one piece play suits my mom sewed me and my three-year-old sister. Those middle school bullies didn't know fashion when they saw it! But I digress. Most women here wear various brightly patterned dresses, matching skirts and tops and have hairstyles to match. Olivia's offered me the name of her tailor in Osu and another teacher told Juliet she'd try to get her seamstress to come to master class sessions, take her measurements and then sit in the back and sew. Now that's service.
And that's not even the half of it.
I've slowly come to master a traditional tribal handshake many people greet each other with. It's a lot like a handshake with a mutual finger snap at the end. I'm not doing it justice, but it's very, very cool.
And it also beats the awkward silence when someone you're saying farewell to addresses you saying: 'May God bless your family, may He bless your relatives, and may God bless you and may he bring you many, many children before you are too old!'
Food
The biggest complaint of our teacher master class students over the past week has not been about the teaching. Nor has it been about taking time out of their summer holidays to attend CPD. No. The biggest complaint has been about the food. To quote Olivia, a lovely Ghanaian English teacher: 'us Ghanaians need food that sticks here! (pointing to her ample hips) we need heavy food. Good food!' I took this opportunity to get Olivia's recipe for joloff rice (but only after filing the complaint that our tasty treats of bread, mini fried chicken and assorted sausage rolls was not cutting the mustard, as such.)
Then there's shito. Yes, shito. Shito. It's a spicy pepper condiment sold in jars that, unsurprisingly looks like shit-o. But it's pretty delicious. With rice. With plantains. With any of the uber limited vegetarian options here. So good that I'll be taking some home with me.
Clothing
The big deal in women's fashion in Ghana is to buy fabric and material then take it to your seamstress. It's colourful, trendy and fit to each person's body type. See, I really was trendsetting in the sixth grade when I wore those one piece play suits my mom sewed me and my three-year-old sister. Those middle school bullies didn't know fashion when they saw it! But I digress. Most women here wear various brightly patterned dresses, matching skirts and tops and have hairstyles to match. Olivia's offered me the name of her tailor in Osu and another teacher told Juliet she'd try to get her seamstress to come to master class sessions, take her measurements and then sit in the back and sew. Now that's service.
And that's not even the half of it.
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