The sardines car ride on the Trotro in the city
1 day in Ghana: About 8 clock in the morning I wake up wet with sweat auf.Von outside I hear horns, words in a language unknown to me and dogs barking . Yes, I am back in Africa! The stop in Ghana, I would like to take to get a taste of West Africa. Sightseeing is announced.
The refrigerator in the Crystal Hostel is empty, so I walk down the runway at the hungry Darkuman Main Road, a "Trotro" spot in the city. In my bag is the equivalent of 1 Euro Ghana Cedi, let's see how far you get with it! A few minutes later I'm sitting in the back seat of a rickety minibus. And it takes for the fills! Not only is that every single seat occupied, it will be opened out additional seats on the sides until I am caught completely-not for the claustrophobic! The vehicle rattles after about 40 minutes to collect passengers at last going towards "Circle". How can I get out of it is that I am still unbegreiflich.Die guys next to me make me in pidgin English advances while the other passengers silently looking out your window . Accra has now dusty and poor. Hut hut on the roadside. "Get out". Thrown out in a not very attractive looking Side street. "Where u want to go?" I try to make my "companions" to show that I'm looking for a bank. The road leads first through a herd of goats, the heck out over the waste of some market stalls, then along the open sewage gutter on the only higher buildings far and wide. I say good bye and may the 3rd Starting last money wechseln.Neue confusion: There are 2 currencies in Ghana, called on the new currency is "10 000" when a 1 is on the ticket. That is 1 euro.
M Akola market over-stimulation of the senses
Another Trotro brings me to the Makola Market, this time it is faster. Again, me at the "stop" is not clear where I find myself actually. I ask a passer-by can understand at all why you want to visit a market.
I am getting carried away by the colorfully dressed women who vollkommen.Die to the stalls drängen.Es overwhelmed me most goods are spread out on blankets on the floor or lie on simple wooden tables. The first thing I see and I can smell the fish: to offer women with big yellow sun hats for sale, dried or fresh fish geräuscherte in the blazing sun. In big buckets crawl fist-sized snails. There are all sorts of root vegetables, cassava, cassava, onions and tomatoes. There are candy, cell phones, Toothpaste, so virtually everything that you need for everyday life now, . The women praise the goods to loud. They seem to belong entirely different ethnic groups, some have tattoos on his face. I buy a fantasy-like drink and cookies and give a hair from 10 € for it because I'm still not clear with the new currency. The market woman is honest and has me still take good care of my money.
I cross the street to visit the textiles market. lie on the floor, unfolded clothes in wild disorder in knee-high pile. A Jean seller haunts me. General Indignation and outrage when I want to shoot a photo. After maybe 40 minutes, I just want one thing: Escape! The image of the revised Ghana relaxed in my Kopf.Was I see is poverty, what I see is Dreck.In my head, the rate is spreading: "West Africa, the conditions here are really different ..." I wonder how on earth, then it will look good in Liberia?
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