As a devout disciple of Christ, Mr. Taylor of course had his private chapel for intimate conversations with the redeemer. Most likely this is where the Lord told him to keep up the good work he was doing for Liberia, and continue with plunder, rape, murder and all the other virtues he so amply possessed. And the Lord is still with him. How else could it be explained that his family and friends hosted an intercessory prayer service in January of this year in a Monrovia church, requesting the Lord to intervene and free the good Mr. Taylor from the unfair trial in the Hague that this friend of his people is unfairly subjected to?

But in Liberia, God is also employed in personnel vendettas. The "Reverend" Brima Fartoma is accused of having planned and instigated the gruesome murder of "Bishop" Alfred Quoa. The prosecution claims that the late "Bishop" was lured out of his home by an accomplice of "Reverend" Fartoma and then hacked to death with machetes.

Still "Reverend" Fartoma knows himself to be a true servant of the Lord, who can call in a favor if needed. "You will rot in hell" he shouted to a journalist who dared to take his photo while the good "Reverend" was led to a prison van. "I am placing a curse on you from today. You will rot in hell for taking my picture". (New Democrat, 24.06.2008, Monrovia, Liberia, p.1).

To me the continuous misuse of religion and the name of God in Liberia without any form of divine retribution to the perpetrators is sufficient and conclusive evidence that God does not exist, indeed.

His duties of cooking and cleaning did not only leave him ample time to plan the theft in great detail, but also gave him the knowledge of where Venus (Not her real name) kept the car papers and the spare keys. And one morning, at around 3 in the night, he took the registration papers and the keys and drove out the compound, while the owner was soundly sleeping in her bed.

When Venus discovered on the next morning that keys, papers and houseboy were missing she went to the police. This being Liberia,  she knew that if she wanted the police to investigate, she had to pay. So she offered them 1.000 USD, which is about 15 times the average monthly salary of a policeman, payable on delivery of the car back to her. Naturally the police preferred to be paid in advance, but Venus remained steadfast. This probably hampered the willingness of the police force to investigate the matter further, because nothing was heard from their side ever after.

But Venus is an experienced businesswoman, so she called a friend of hers, and asked him to check the records of the border police to see if her car had left the country. What he reported showed that the houseboy had planned his coup with remarkable tenacity, planning and initiative.

After stealing the car, he must have driven directly from Monrovia to the Guinea Border, since the records of the local security detail showed that her car had crossed into Guinea in the early morning hours. Even more surprising was that, according to ledger, Venus herself had been in the car. The entry clearly showed that a "Venus Nelson" had crossed the border, with two passengers in her car. This clearly surprised Venus, who had been sleeping in her bed during that night. A few more questions later and some dollars poorer, the real Venus Nelson was finally able to piece the story together.

The houseboy had used two accomplices for the job. One was a Guinea national, who arranged for a buyer of the car in Guinea and a place where the necessary change of color could be done. The other was a woman who took care of the paperwork. She obtained a "Laissez-Passer" document from the Liberian Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Monrovia, under the name of Venus Nelson. The "Laissez Passer" is not a passport, but is used frequently instead of a passport in West-Africa. If the Foreign Ministry was duped into making out the false paper, or if their complicity was bought for a few dollars will never be known. But the false Venus managed to get the car over the border.

The real Venus has given up the hope of ever reclaiming the car. By now it will have a different color, identification number and license plates. And thanks to the false Venus it will have a different owner. After all who can prohibit the owner of a car to sell it, even if it is in Guinea ?

In the end the real Venus has decided to import another car from abroad. And I have repeated my vows to never, ever, have any cook, cleaner or houseboy in my apartment - for obvious reasons.

There seem to be fewer of them these days, but I recently ran into on of them again. People who have this misguided notion that Africans are born conservationists, since they "live in harmony with nature". Hearing this, I always have to suppress the Blackadder reflex, asking " Tell me Mam/Sir have you ever visited the planet Earth ?" But sometimes I invite them to take a stroll over Duala Market and take a look at the small hands of freshly killed monkeys hanging over the side of cheap stainless steel plates. The little hands are always coiled up, as if they were pleading for mercy. But the population is not about to give any merci to the wildlife, not even five years after the war has ended. "Bushmeet" is highly valued in typical local dishes such as tobogee, for its asserted sweetness and spiritual properties. As if that were not enough, the current rise of food prices will certainly put additional pressure on Liberian wildlife.  The sole billboard pictured above will make little difference under these circumstances. 

Admitted: The Photo above is slightly unfair. It was taken over a year ago, when the central station of the Liberian National Fire-service had only that junker in the garage. Now, thanks to donations from UNMIL and others the station features a Renault 4x4 tanker truck, specialised for bush fires, a shining Chinese made copy of a New York fire engine, and an ambulance, also of Chinese lineage.
But while the equipment is new, the spirit in the fire brigade still is the same. A few weeks ago, a fire broke out in the dilapidated National Housing Bank building directly opposite the fire station, on the other side of the road. The distance between the front of the fire engine and the burning building was not more than 50 feet. And what did the faithful and daring fire service do? They called UNMIL (United Nations Mission In Liberia) and begged for fuel to " reach the fire".
Old habits die hard !

I decided to include it here because it nicely illustrates one of the daily small frustrations. For some reasons one can never get a straight answer to a question. It does not matter if the question is about history, technical matters, or just mundane everyday live. ,The reason for this problem is yet unclear, but at least three theories are currently discussed in the expatriate community:
The first, let us call it the biological determinant, holds that Liberians are genetically unable to give a straight answer. The second theory brings in the powers of "juju", the local Black Magic variant. One of the main concerns of Juju is to deny the adversary power over oneself. Leaving hair at the barber or clipped nails at the beauty parlour is extremely foolish, because even an apprentice witch doctor can concoct a potion out of these insignificant parts which will kill you, render you impotent, or change you into a goat. The latter version is frequently featured in Nigerian films, by the way. It is equally dangerous to wisher ones name in the wind, because the bad spirits will then know it and use it against you. Knowing of these dangers it is only consequent to never answer straight to a question, thus denying the interrogator the power over oneself.
The last theory, which is possible the right one, maintains that Liberians never give a straight answer because they do not give a damn what the foreigners say anyway. After all they are just here to distribute their money freely to the poor downtrodden locals and then it is back to them to the lands of milk, honey and Mercedes-Benzes.
I leave the reader to decide which theory is the best, or to submit a theory of his own as a commentary after reading the following, true story.
Situation: Somewhere in a village in rural Liberia. A foreigner (white) and a local are walking along a dirt road. They pass a man pushing a wheelbarrow which is visibly full of something.
Foreigner: What is in the wheelbarrow ?
Liberian: Oh, that is my father in law there, pushing the wheel barrow.
Foreigner: Yes, but what is in it ?
Liberian: I told him to bring the wheelbarrow to my house.
Foreigner: Yes, but what is in it ?
Liberian: I will use the wheelbarrow later.
Foreigner: Aaaaaaaarggghhhhhh!

As reported before in this blog (see my entry "Scrapped Back To The Stone Age"), Liberia has lost most of her infrastructure to predatory scrapping during the war time. While normal scrap business is a legitimate business activity, and frees the residual value of a machine at the end of its service life, predatory scrapping takes operates quite differently and with dire effect. The biggest operators put complete machines to the torch. The many small scavengers are limited to steal all that can be easily removed and carried by hand from a machine. However, the loss of many small parts kills a machine as surely as the torch.
The real tragedy is that destructive scrapping has become an easy way to create cash, that is still going on in Liberia right now. With annoying regularity Liberia Electric Power (LEC) discovers that scavengers steal parts of the newly installed power lines.
The stolen metal is then sold and resold, and trucked or shipped out of the country to end in the furnaces of China or India. Scrap is such an ideal vehicle for cash generation simply because it is nearly impossible to trace back. Who can say if the cut parts on the truck came from a defect or a working machine?
On the 22^nd of May the Ministry of Lands, Mines and Energy finally reacted and imposed a ban on scrapping. In a move that surprises anyone not familiar with Liberia, the "Scrap Association" has complained to the government about this "unfair" act. With admirable brazenness the president of the Scrap Association stated that the halt to scrapping would affect the business and economic growth of Liberia. (The Analyst, Monrovia, Liberia, 13.06.2008, p.10)
He conveniently forgot that the scrap dealers and their government accomplices are responsible to a large extend for the dilapidated state of Liberia, and that many of them should be standing trial as war criminals for their actions.
Another official of the strange association also chimed in. Noting that the scrap business had "taken many criminals out the street", he went on to present the government with the thinly veiled threat that the former criminals would be forced back into their old ways of making money by the ban.

It can only be hoped that the government stands firm in the face of such extortion and keeps the ban in place until a working system has been put together which limits the scrapping of working equipment.

As reported in the "Plain Truth",  one drinker of the "faked" Heineken reported that he had suffered from constipation, but shortly after drinking the Heineken, his stomach started producing "rivers and streams", and that "My stomach ran like hell to the extent that I almost die".
Why anybody would try to fake such bad beer as Heineken is beyond me though !

You've read our hotlist for "Best Rooms With a View - Part I.  Read on to find out who made the cut for Best Rooms With a View - Part II...

I have gotten used to see taxis with the usual inscriptions on their rear bumper.  From the pretty lame
"God´s time is the best", through the fatalistic "Relax - God is in Control", to the insane  "Good never lost". But the one above is really unusual. What the hell does he mean by that ?

In my two years in Liberia I have now been to all but one of the provinces and their capitals. I have traveled the country from Lofa County in the Northwest, bordering Guinea, to Maryland in the Southeast which shares a border with Cote d´Ivoire.
The most depressing in all of those places is the degree to which the infrastructure has been destroyed. The massive destruction covers everything considered basic infrastructure, but water and electricity systems stand out. The road system was never well developed in the country, and the few paved roads ( also know as "coal-tar" in local language) have suffered so heavily from erosion and neglect that is often less exhausting to drive on a recently graded dirt track, than on the deeply pot-holed coal-tar.
Through the history of Liberia, investment has always been focussed heavily on Monrovia, while only a pittance was used for developing the "hinterland". However, by the early eighties, at least the province capitals had been provided with basic electricity and water services. The Liberian Electricity Corporation (LEC) had started a rural electrification program. The program never reached the actual rural areas, but at least it provided electricity to the existing province capitals. Even the small coastal town of Greenville had a local electricity grid, powered by six Blackstone diesel generators from the UK, and a water system.
These days only the ruins of the water and electricity systems remain. The water towers in Harper and Greenville stand forlorn in the towns. A tree grows on top of the Greenville water tower. The electrical distribution system has completely disappeared, lines have been cut down and melted, poles used for building huts or turned into charcoal. The rusty wrecks of the massive Blackstone diesels still stand in the looted rural power stations. In the Harper power station alone, generating equipment of 2.4 MW has been turned into scrap metal.
In fact, in destruction of infrastructure Liberia has succeeded where Hitler failed. When it finally dawned on him that the war was irrevocably lost, he issued what became knows as the "Nero Orders". Showing a disdain for "his people" bringing him close to Charles Taylor and consorts, he declared that since the German people had lost the war they would perish anyhow, and thus they did nor need any infrastructure to survive. According to the Nero orders, every power plant, dock, all the railways, the bridges, factories, mines were to be destroyed. That the Nero orders were not carried out is primarily due to the resistance that Albert Speer, the Minister of Armament and Ammunitions put up. In coordination with industry managers he counteracted the destruction orders by a wide variety of means, and with surprising efficiency. Speer was tried at the Nuremberg Tribunal and sentenced to twenty years in prison, but that Germany kept its infrastructure largely intact, and was not turned into the wasteland that Hitler wanted, remains his merit. Unfortunately Liberia possessed nobody with the foresight and the personal bravery of Speer. Large infrastructure assets like the rural power plants, the water works, or the Mount Coffee Hydroelectric Plant could have been kept in working condition if only one of the leaders in the civil war would have had any understanding of the value of infrastructure and the necessity of infrastructure to survival. But none did. All hat they were interested in was to create as much scrap metal out of the country as possible. Goering, the Nazi Air Force Chief, quipped during his trials at Nuremberg that in "fifty years all households in Germany will have a small statuette of Herman Goering". History has proven him wrong. Having seen in reality what the "Nero Orders" were supposed to achieve, Speer on the other hand should be honored with a monument. A small one maybe.

The civil war graffiti above is still visible on a house in a small town along the road in Lofa. The extreme stupidity of the message, the childish painting, all of that would be funny, if it were not for the case that these were exactly the people who killed and maimed without aim or mercy.

The scribble above is still on the wall of an administration building in Lofa, on the border to Sierra Leone.  What surprises most is that no one has bothered to paint over it. "Col." Bristol was most likely a boy of sixteen, high on drugs, who would not even have passed the most basic infantry training. After seeing photos and Videos from the civil wars in Liberia and Sierra Leone, one is no longer surprised by the massive impact that professional mercenary outfits like Executive Outcomes or Sandline had in these wars.
Still, no one knows how many unfortunate people were killed or maimed by "Col." Bristol and his comrades.

The tallest structure of Africa is still located close to Monrovia. One of the three remaining antennas of the defunct Omega Navigation system is located in Paynesville, in the greater Monrovia area. Omega was a US - Navigation system operating in the Very Low Frequency (VLF) band, between 10 and 14 kHz. It was used both for navigation as well as for submarine communication. Omega was operated from 1970 until 1997 when GPS proved more accurate.
Due to the extreme wavelength, Omega needed very long antennas. The transmitter in Paynesville used a umbrella antenna suspended on a 417m high mast. The entire station was handed over to the Liberian Government when Omega was shut down permanently in 1997. While the station buildings have been duly plundered down to the bare walls the lattice mast is still there with all guy wires and antenna wires intact. And while the paint is weathered, there is no rust on the tower or the suspension system. In Liberia, where scrap is a main commodity, it is extremely surprising that the mast survived until today. There is no problem getting to the tower, one can drive right down to the base. More enterprising types could actually climb it too, as the ladders are still there.
When Omega was in operation, it was run by the US, and access to the station was severely restricted. This gave rise to many interesting theories about the "true nature" of the system. I have heard a few in my time in Liberia, mainly claiming that it was a gigantic listening device. The best theory however has been put forward by a Liberian acquaintance of mine. According to him Omega was " a system that could read the minds of people coming into Liberia by plane. And if someone with bad intentions for Liberia would have come in, the system would have discovered him. Then the airplane would have been sucked to the top of the Omega mast, and have been arrested there."
Hmm, somehow the system must have failed when Charles Taylor came...

A truck from Guinea overturned two weeks ago on the road to Voijnjama in Lofa Province. The accident claimed the lives of 22 people which were riding on top of the overloaded truck. Why the driver, who was only injured, lost control is unclear, since the stretch of the road were the accident happened is not particularly bad. But one can suspect that massive overloading, and the practice of disabling the break system instead of repairing air leaks were contributing factors. Since the cargo consisted mainly of cement bags and fuel drums, those riding atop were literally crushed when truck and cargo fell onto them.

 
In line with the local custom to classify trucks according to their number of wheels, it was described in the local press as an accident involving a "12 wheel" DAF truck. The classification of trucks according to wheels is one of the funny idiosyncrasies of Liberia. For some reason the locals seem to believe that every truck having the same number of wheels is capable of carrying the same load, no matter what design or which manufacturer.  There are six, ten and twelve wheel trucks on the local market. This concept initially tends to confuse logistics officers who are thinking in the more logical concept of payload. But, after a while they figure out that the since the actual loading is done without any consideration of maximum load figures anyway, the wheel concept is workable.
It is the people riding on top of those already overloaded trucks that pay the price from time to time.

from: The Daily Observer, Monrovia, Liberia, 8 April 2008

Throughout the week as we were driving around past schools, I kept noticing large groups of kids marching around on their playfields.  At first I was concerned that this was all they got for PE, but I later learned that part of the Independnce Day celebrations includes a marching competition by the local school kids.  Other than that, its just a big family day with lots of folks hanging at the beach.

Shelby, Chris & I made the trek to Dodowa, while Carly & Kristi tied up loose ends at the hotel.  Thanks to the holiday, traffic wasn't too bad and we met up easily with Sabina to make the drop-off.  We fely slightly bad because she had her car full of kids wth her and they had come straight from the marching demonstartions, so I hope we didn't disrupt her day too badly.  But, I think the center will enjoy putting the drinks, snacks and supplies to good use in their community.

Yesterday I gave you a list of shop names Girindre & I had created.  Today I share with you a list of ACTUAL shop signs spotted on the way home from Dodowa:

Glorious Touch plumbing

Gloriland Building materials

Lordy Pharmacy

Respect the Teacher Enterprises: Experts in House Painting

In Him is Life video shop and phone dealer

El Shadai lubricants and auto parts

Back in Accra we spent the afternoon emailing and packing before heading over to the Last Supper, back at Gauchos.  I can't believe this trip is over.  It was long and hard, but fun, especially due to the folks that were also working this trip.  We had a lot of laughs and it was nice to have final gathering together (though we were missing Rick who left the night before with the rest of the GHET). 

From there we drove to Korle Bu Teaching Hospital, which is the best hospital in Ghana.  Our visit started with a roundtable discussion about the healthcare workforce in the country, and then a tour of the facilities.  Being THE big urban hospital, every waiting room was quite full, and we were told this was the quiet part of the day.  We visited the children’s ward where in one spot they had three kids in a bed.  I asked Girin and Joe if it’s different visiting places like this now that they are fathers and both agreed it is infinitely different.  Prior to having to kids they were of course empathetic but still detached.  Now when they see these kids and parents suffering, it brings a whole new meaning to our guiding principle, every life has equal value.  Going through the labour and maternity ward, Carol commented on the “ovarian lottery” and said she can’t imagine having had her kids here.  And this is the best facility Ghana has.

Driving around Accra, many of the shops, taxis & buses are named with religious connotation.  My favorite so far is the Clap for Jesus shop.  Girin today started writing down many of these catch phrases and started a competition of who could come up with the best shop name.  Our top contenders so far:

Trust in God Insurance

Bread of Life Bakery

Love thy Neighbour Family Planning clinic

Jehovah’s Mighty Hand massage parlour

Why Life? Coffin Shop and funeral parlour

Our final event of the trip was lunch and another roundtable over the brand-new Ghana College of Physicians and Surgeons.  This building just opened in December and we would be their first big event – while this fact was not so good for us, in the end it will have been an excellent training exercise for the staff their.  One thing we’ve been encountering along the way is the notion of getting things done on “international time” versus “Ghana time”, and let alone “American time.”  Luckily Kristi had gone ahead to make sure everything was set and when we came in the room it all looked great.  But as lunch and the roundtable started, their attention to details and little things kept popping up:  They brought exactly 25 plates and sets of silverware – when we needed a couple more it was quite the request.  There was no garbage bin anywhere.  We had set each spot with microphones due to the noise of the HVAC system, but folks still couldn’t hear so then they sht off the AC (in the middle of the afternoon).  As the room strated warming up, we then had to open windows to get some breeze, but that also brough tin the noise from the streets.  Sigh – it was one little thing after another.  Not the best event to end our fabulous time on, but it still went fine.  More importantly, I shattered my previous high score on Brick Breaker while trying not to nod off.

From the roundtable we stopped by an open market on teh way home to do a little shopping, but I didn't get anything there - I don't like all the haggling and all that.  Back at the hotel I snuck in a quick run on the treadmill before working on getting everyone out the door to the airport.  I couldn't believe they were all leaving - the six days they were here flew by so much quicker than week one.  Sadly, getting them to the airport was only half the battle.  Once they arrived it turned out that BA had oversold its business class, leaving Carol & Gina with coach seats.  Luckily Carly was at the airport to help and we got Lisa on the phone from our travel office, but the best we could do is economy plus.  And Candy switched seats with Gina which was super nice of her, so Ithink they all landed in London safely and somewhat rested.

Back at the hotel, we celebrated their departure with a bottle of wine and plans to sleep late!

West Gonja is a Catholic Mission hospital, serving a large community, complete with a surgical area and maternity ward.  We started with roundtable meeting between our staff and theirs - the conference room was so hot I literally almost passed out but managed to make it through.  Then we toured their facility, which was a fairly large compound.  One of the most interesting things was the solar panels provided by the Austrians to light the operating room.

From West Gonja we had to head back on the bumpy, dusty road over to Savelugu to see the Guinea Worm Eradication program led by the Carter Center (http://www.cartercenter.org/health/guinea_worm/index.html).  What made the drive back especially difficult is that the AC in our car wasn’t working very well – I think it got maxed out on the initial drive and maybe the filters got clogged with dust.  So Shelby & I both just tried to conk out for a bit in the back seat and ignore the fact that our AC was noisy but not producing much.  Guinea worm is a really horrible disease, and hopefully close to eradication.  First we visited a local water source complete with a filtering program.   It was so hot when we got out of our cars - we later confirmed it at 105.

Then we headed over to the clinic.  See this beautiful girl?  See the creepy worm coming out of her leg?  Thats why we're here and doing the work we do.

Landing back in Accra we were all looking forward to cool clean showers at the hotel before dinner, but Tachi changed up the game plan and asked we go straight to dinner at Captain Hooks.  I was so grimy, but oh well.  After dinner we surprised Rajeev with a birthday cake since he’ll be flying on Thursday and not really able to celebrate – he was genuinely surprised by it which was fun.

Our first stop was EcoBank, a regional bank throughout west Africa and slowly moving through the rest of the continent.  We arrived at the bank a few minutes early and checked in at the reception desk.  20 minutes later when nothing had happened, I checked back in with the receptionist - "oh, his office is in the other building."  Right.  Next door we went, now 15 minutes late, and they kept us waiting an additional 10 minutes.  Finally we got it in.  The is an example of our phrase of the trip:  TIA = This is Africa.  When the unexplainable happens, TIA.

Next stop was the US Embassy, where we met with Susan, the chief Econ person, currently on a 2-year post in Ghana.  The US Embassy is a huge compund, fairly new - just opened in June 2007.  It looks like a huge american government building.  Entering security we had to present our passports and surrender any electronics (cell phones, ipods, cameras).  Crazy.  Susan was an interesting person to meet.  She is actually from the Eastside and went to UW.  She is also a former Olympic figure skater, having competed in the 1976 and 1980 games for Italy.  I can't believe she grew up in the northwest though - she had this incredible frenetic energy that had both Alex and I thinking she should be a New Yorker.

 After the embassy visit, we went to Le Tandem for lunch and then over to this big Artists Gallery to do some shopping before our final stop of the day, the Bank of Ghana.  Again we arrived a few minutes early which was valuable as it was quite a maze of stairs, halls and elevators to get to the Deputy Governor's office.  Once we finally made it up there at 3:00pm, his assistant greeted us with a stern "We expected you at 11:00am."  We both made a couple of apologies as I pulled out my packet of notes to check things out.  Luckily Carly was on the top of her game as always and had provided me with printed confirmation letters for all three meetings, including this one, signed by Anna, saying they would be delighted to see us at 3:00pm.  Anna responded with a big "hmmmm..." at her mistake.  This final meeting was the most productive of the day I think, and Professor Bawrumia was very engaging.  More improtantly, he had some very cool cuff links - pink and black blown glass it seemed, which matched his black suit and pink tie.

It was neat to sit in on these meetings, and I really appreciated that Alex not only invited me, but engaged me in the conversations as well, especially when it came to global health stuff. 

Back at the hotel, the evening was spent hosting a roundtable discussion with some of our grantees, and then into bed early for our 5:30am departure to Tamale the next morning.

The Kakum National Park is home to a tree-top Canopy walk, which was built by USAID in the late 90's to promote eco-tourism.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kakum_National_Park

The canopy walk consists of seven rope and plank bridges, suspended amongst big giant trees.  You head across  the top of the rainforest as the bridge gently wobbles, looking down at the vegetation below.  We hoped to also glimpse some of the elephants that live below, but no such luck - they are good at hiding.  It was a really fun little hike and adventure.

After lunch at a nearby hotel, our next stop was the Elmina Castle, the primary junction point for the Atlantic slave trade: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elmina_Castle  This was a heavy visit, filled with lots of horrific tales contrasted with a beautiful setting.  Our tour guide was great, providing lots of useful information as we walked through the place, but man was it hot.  Alex was definitely regretting his decision to wear jeans today.

Once we were done, we had to endure another long car ride home.  While I have definitely enjoyed the opportunity to scour so much of the country, I am defintely starting to tire of the long car rides - I'm scared to calculate how much of this trip I've actually spent in a car/van.  Speaking of which, here's what our motorcade looked like yesterday, 4 vans and 1 SUV - not conspicuous at all:

Back at the hotel I couldn't wait to shower as it had been a hot sweaty day.  Just as I shampooed up, I ran out of water.  This has been happening sporadically to other folks but I had so far avoided it.  It seems Accra is having a major water shortage, so the hotel has water being delivered constantly, but they sometimes just can't keep up with the demand.  Tonight I was in conundrum because I was short and time and what water I did have was hot, not cold.  As I waited a couple minutes minutes pondering my options, the cold water slowly trickled back in and I was able to finish rinsing off in time to help Shelby herd everyone into the vans for dinner.

Since they had been cooped up all day in a meeting room, we went next door to the Palm Royal hotel's Ghanaian Village, a tropical outdoor spot reminiscent of Hawaii.  They seemed to have a good time, and Girindre even showed off his dance moves twice, first with Candy and then with Kirsten.  After dinner, we set-up shop in the "office" as usual to ready ourselves for the next day.

(Note: I took some shorts viedos but I apparently can't post them without purchasing a "space upgrade" so you'll have to wait to see those.)

Once the performance was over, the Chief invited us back to his "palace" for three minutes.  Given our long visit the other day, I truly hoped he would hold true to his 3-minute promise and he did, so we we could hit the road back to Accra.  Because we had arrived late, this also cut down me & Shelby's chance to discuss our book drive with our new friend Mohamed, but we did manage to get his email so we can start working on that.

What should have been a two-hour ride back turned into a horrendous three-hour journey.  Because of time, the delagtions had to go straight to dinner with no break and no freshening time, but apparently dinner wnet great.  I meanwhile headed to the airport to pick up the rest of the GHET who was now arriving for the actual retreat.  Luck was on our side and their plane landed 30 minutes early, so we scooped them into the vans and and back to the hotel pretty easily.