Home is where the heart is

Howdy from Kumasi, people who read my blog for who knows what reason!

So, I'm obviously in Kumasi now. Yay.
I have transferred to my second homestay (more on that later), and am now attending classes at KASS, the Kumasi Anglican Secondary School, an institution that has generously loaned out one of their classrooms for SIT(School for International Training) purposes. Twi lessons still continue, and we've started our FSS (field study seminar) classes to start preparing us for our ISP (Independent Study Projects) papers.
Have I mentioned that they R.L.A.I.G. (Really like Acronyms in Ghana)?

My second homestay is in the suburbs of Kumasi, two taxi rides away. And to use the term "homestay" is a little... kind. It's more of a "open air shanty stay".
The structure itself is an open air two story building, painted pink and blue. A staircase with pointed gothic arches made of poured concrete links the floors and stretches out into the street, where it abruptly ends in the red dust of the sidewalk/road. I live with 9 other people on my floor, with many above us (I've yet to get the exact number), and at least 5 camping out in the courtyard. Laundry hangs everywhere, making for a colorful sight, and we have a nice view of the sprawling city beyond us.
I am still taking bucket showers. Bucket showers, for the uninformed, are a fantastic and terrifying thing. Cold water is gathered into a single bucket (holding about 2-3 gallons of water) and transported to a tiled room. Once there, you close the door (if there is one), and use a smaller bucket to slowly but systematically douse yourself in the freezing water in an attempt to get the dust and dirt off. Some of the other students report getting warm to hot bucket showers, but I think they are simply delirious from the hypothermia. Poor things.
In order to use the toilet (generous term), I must go and hunt out my Auntie, who is the keeper of the lavetory key. Due to the high amount of traffic around the building, the toilet is locked to keep strangers from clogging, or just generally using, it. She is a large, intimidating woman who sizes me up each time I ask for the key. She sighs and shifts her weight around before procuring the key from some unknown hiding place on her person, speaking Twi at me rapidly while shaking her finger and glaring. I have almost considered walking out into the bushes instead of asking for the lavatory key from her. I have yet to ask her for the key twice in one evening, but if I am found dead from a ruptured bladder or compacted colon, YOU KNOW WHY.
My room is in the same room as the refrigerator where the family keeps ALL of their food, so I am often inturrupted in reading, snoozing, anything, by one of the family or the hired help scrounging around for something in the fridge. They are still knocking as of Friday, but I'll let you know.
Since the lavatory and shower room are separate, mostly water-deprived rooms, there is no sink in which to brush my teeth or wash my face before bed. As such, I have bought a very cheap and tiny bucket from a street vendor and use that as my sink at night, furnished with water from whatever is left in my water bottle. Once finished, I try to (discreetly as possible) toss the toothpaste-facewash-whateverelse water out of the window or off the balcony. So far so good. Only one kid has caught me and my illegal bathing/cleansing, but she just ran away from the scary Obruni.
The first morning I left for school, I was greeted with my breakfast (a piece of bread) and a message from my homestay guardian: "I am done raising children, please find your way to school on your own".
Wheeeee!

Still, all of this aside I'm having a blast. Classes, while sometimes boring, still hold my attention, and I have found a topic for my ISP: Kente cloth weaving. I'm trying to see if I can get some pictures online soon, but that's a slightly daunting task. We'll see.

Be safe, be well, and enjoy a warm shower for me.
Love,
Lo