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Google, over the past decade it has become the essential dating tool for most people. With the ease of a few keystrokes, google can tell you all of of the wonderful awards and charity work your potential mate has done, show you their previous work history and addresses and helps you discover that perhaps your seemingly perfect mate has a long wrap sheet and unpaid child support...... but at least he still photographs well in times of duress. Whatever the case maybe, google is there for you.
It is unfortunate though, that google doesn't seem to provide the same dating assistance when living abroad, especially in Africa. You see, Westerners seem to be the only people to name their children with no rhyme or reason. This means that in many Eastern societies you find the same name over and over again. I guess its great for the simplicity of remembering names, but horrible for the desperate woman stalking a potential mate via google.
I mean, really how many people can be named Kofi, Kwame and Justice? And do they really all have to have the same last name?
I just thank God, that I am African-American woman, which gives me the super sleuth gene. You know the one that makes you hunt down second and third cousins, as well as an old elementary school friend of your current lover. After all, I need to be able to make generalizations about you before the first date; I am 32 and ain't nobody got time to find out six months down the line you are crazy.
So wish me luck, Lord knows that I need it.
Until next time smooches.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Buying Borders
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Recently, I had the once and the lifetime experience of crossing four African borders in one day....with no passport or id. Yes, in hindsight, it wasn't the brightest thing I have ever done. After all, although I do plan on having a racy memoir, getting arrested and detained at an African border indefinitely is not something I want to include as a highlight of my life. Especially, since I have already been arrested, twice. And if you ask me that is enough for one lifetime.
Alas, somehow I made it down the sunny, highway lined with beaches, coconut and palm trees into the commercial center of Nigeria, Lagos. Why, you may ask? Because in Africa everything is for sale, including borders. In all honesty, I was actually amazed at how easy it was to cross over the borders and come back.. without looking like a resident of any country and speaking just enough pidgen English to answer basic questions.
In fact, my country of origin confused many of the immigration officers. "Where are you from Nigeria or Cameroon?", the immigration officer in Benin asked. My answer, " I dey fo Ghana-o." At the Nigerian border, they thought I was Liberian and at the Togo border, well, they were just confused and couldn't quite understand where I was coming from or why. However, since I was going to Ghana and not staying in Togo they let me pass, with one simple question." Do you have a Ghanaian passport?", "Yes," I immediately lied. "Let her go," the man responded. And I crossed the border, as the immigration officer chided me never to travel without my id again. You have to love the patience of the African immigration officer.
The hardest border to cross over was actually Ghana. As we attempted to cross the border from Ghana into Togo at the unauthorized point I was immediately called out. "You, come." the officer said pointing to me and my friend. So I slowly walked over wondering how I could mask my American accent. "Where are you from?" "Ghana" I responded. "No, you aren't," he said. Now, of course, I have to be passionate about my heritage, so I instantly replied in my best Ghanaian accent, "Me, I am Ghanaian. I have just grown up outside."
Now we probably could have easily crossed thereafter, but unfortunately my friend, who speaks several local languages told the gentleman she didn't speak any English. The trouble with the lie...he asked her the question in English, not a local language. So after having our luggage searched and told we wouldn't cross the border a gentleman entered. As he lectured us for five minutes he carefully studied my face. Then he says we should go, when we walked outside I noticed he was preparing to walk with us.
As he led us into the immigration officers' compound, I instantly become paralyzed with fear. After all, where were we going? Realizing an arrest may be near, I start telling the officer he should just lead us to the buses and we will go back to Accra. No, he insists, we will cross. So as I think about who I will call to verify my identity. I suddenly realize he is walking us across the borders...Ghana and Togo. Of course nothing is for free, so I collected his phone number and we have since been on two dates....yes, he still thinks I am Ghanaian. I am waiting to see how it all works out before I break the news to him he has been deceived. Yes, it is ratchet, but I am ok with that.
On the way back into Ghana, I was again stopped at the illegal border thanks to an unscrupulous taxi driver and a rude guide. The trouble this time was not because I was an American, it was because the illegal border guide didn't speak to the immigration officer. After all, if you have ever visited or lived in Africa, you know the greeting is very important. So after begging his forgiveness, the guide effectively led us back into Ghana and I was safe.
Now would I do it again, definitely not. But was it an interesting experience...most definitely. In fact, I would say it was a rockstar experience.I mean, lets be honest, how many Americans can say they rode a motorcycle to cross over the Nigerian border? Me, that is who.
Until Next Time Smooches.
Alas, somehow I made it down the sunny, highway lined with beaches, coconut and palm trees into the commercial center of Nigeria, Lagos. Why, you may ask? Because in Africa everything is for sale, including borders. In all honesty, I was actually amazed at how easy it was to cross over the borders and come back.. without looking like a resident of any country and speaking just enough pidgen English to answer basic questions.
In fact, my country of origin confused many of the immigration officers. "Where are you from Nigeria or Cameroon?", the immigration officer in Benin asked. My answer, " I dey fo Ghana-o." At the Nigerian border, they thought I was Liberian and at the Togo border, well, they were just confused and couldn't quite understand where I was coming from or why. However, since I was going to Ghana and not staying in Togo they let me pass, with one simple question." Do you have a Ghanaian passport?", "Yes," I immediately lied. "Let her go," the man responded. And I crossed the border, as the immigration officer chided me never to travel without my id again. You have to love the patience of the African immigration officer.
The hardest border to cross over was actually Ghana. As we attempted to cross the border from Ghana into Togo at the unauthorized point I was immediately called out. "You, come." the officer said pointing to me and my friend. So I slowly walked over wondering how I could mask my American accent. "Where are you from?" "Ghana" I responded. "No, you aren't," he said. Now, of course, I have to be passionate about my heritage, so I instantly replied in my best Ghanaian accent, "Me, I am Ghanaian. I have just grown up outside."
Now we probably could have easily crossed thereafter, but unfortunately my friend, who speaks several local languages told the gentleman she didn't speak any English. The trouble with the lie...he asked her the question in English, not a local language. So after having our luggage searched and told we wouldn't cross the border a gentleman entered. As he lectured us for five minutes he carefully studied my face. Then he says we should go, when we walked outside I noticed he was preparing to walk with us.
As he led us into the immigration officers' compound, I instantly become paralyzed with fear. After all, where were we going? Realizing an arrest may be near, I start telling the officer he should just lead us to the buses and we will go back to Accra. No, he insists, we will cross. So as I think about who I will call to verify my identity. I suddenly realize he is walking us across the borders...Ghana and Togo. Of course nothing is for free, so I collected his phone number and we have since been on two dates....yes, he still thinks I am Ghanaian. I am waiting to see how it all works out before I break the news to him he has been deceived. Yes, it is ratchet, but I am ok with that.
On the way back into Ghana, I was again stopped at the illegal border thanks to an unscrupulous taxi driver and a rude guide. The trouble this time was not because I was an American, it was because the illegal border guide didn't speak to the immigration officer. After all, if you have ever visited or lived in Africa, you know the greeting is very important. So after begging his forgiveness, the guide effectively led us back into Ghana and I was safe.
Now would I do it again, definitely not. But was it an interesting experience...most definitely. In fact, I would say it was a rockstar experience.I mean, lets be honest, how many Americans can say they rode a motorcycle to cross over the Nigerian border? Me, that is who.
Until Next Time Smooches.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
David Baldwin Barnes- The Legacy
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Well, folks, as we all know I was giving up this blog to do brokEntrepreneur.wordpress.com. But over the past few months, I have realized that certain things just aren't appropriate for the other blog. In fact, I feel like it censors me, like I have to make everything relevant to the topic. So in order to appease all 26 of my fans I am coming back to goneiighana, so that I can continue to share personal experiences with people. But dont fret I will also be doing brokEntrepreneur.wordpress.com as well...yes, I am greedy, but the fact of the matter is I just really have a lot to say, especially now.
I find myself fortunate in life because in my 32 years on this earth, I have never had a close friend or relative die. I mean, yes, my grandmother did die in 2011, but she had lung cancer and was 76. So although it was a shocker, it wasn't really a shocker.
But last week, death came knocking on my front door delivering the news that David Baldwin Barnes, was dead. Now, some of you reading this blog know David, but for the others that don't let me give you some background.
I met David almost five years ago in Washington, DC. My first thought was, "Damn, who is this foooinnne, skinny brother?!?!" It was unfortunate for me at that time he had a girlfriend. But that never stopped me from admiring him or becoming his friend. Fast forward two years later, David and I both lose our congressional jobs. Me, I decide to move to Ghana. David he decides to hang in there...at least for a little while. But eventually, he decides Ghana should be his new home. Now, I can't take all the credit for this decision considering his best friend, Chris, was already on ground in Ghana doing farming, but I know I definitely helped influence him. We spent hours talking on skype and I even convinced this boy to cut his locks. Which, if you knew David, was a feat in itself. So he arrived in Ghana, January 21st, 2012, bringing me my fat girl snacks- Butterfingers and Starbursts.
He and his friend Chris lived in the boonies, aka the cut, aka the village (well sort of), so we never really saw much of each other. Occasionally we would randomly bump into each other in town or exchange phone calls if either one of us was in need of information or we had some other random request. But somehow as fate would have it, we spent New Years Eve together.
You see, Accra is the size of a matchbox so there is less than one degree of separation; especially if you have lived abroad. So, although it was surprising, I was not shocked that David was dating a friend of friend.So we spent the weekend together and we laughed. Ok, I am lying really it was my friend and I that had great laughs at the expense of Kuukua, his girlfriend, and David. It was unfortunate that Kuukua and David decided to arrive in Busua late. Therefore, when they arrived the only room at the guest house left didn't have a private bathroom. Considering the bathroom was like a camping latrine from a horror film, its no surprise they wanted to use our private bathroom. What did surprise them, is that we charged them. That's right, we made them buy us each a beer. The look on David's face... priceless. It took him half the trip to get over it, but by New Years Eve we were all chummy again, sitting around the bonfire and then later watching fireworks and dancing on the beach, ringing the New Year in.
So when I got the news last week that David died in a motorcycle accident last week in Accra, Ghana, I instantly broke down in the ugly cry. At first so many emotions ran through me, especially that of guilt. How could I play a pawn in destiny's cruel fate to take David's life? After all, David would have never thought about relocating outside of the country if Chris and I weren't already abroad. But now, one week in I know it was his destiny.
You see David did everything bigger and better than everyone else. He dressed better than his other colleagues, his infectious personality made his 6'4'' frame look bigger than life and his wide smile could be compared to no other. Therefore, I am not surprised that David decided to go out in a way he would be forever remembered. After all, die in your sleep in old age...Nah, that was way too boring for David.
It doesn't make losing him any easier, but knowing David, he is loving all of the attention-even from afar. As his friends and family celebrate David's life this week may we all learn the importance of doing things your way, in your own time and to your own standard of perfection. That is the way David lived each day of his life and I hope to live my life the same. After all, living a life where you follow your dreams and overcome fears and obstacles, is what David would have wanted for all of us. So today I will chase my dreams harder, laugh a little louder and love even harder all in the memory of the great David Baldwin Barnes.
We love you and miss you.
I find myself fortunate in life because in my 32 years on this earth, I have never had a close friend or relative die. I mean, yes, my grandmother did die in 2011, but she had lung cancer and was 76. So although it was a shocker, it wasn't really a shocker.
But last week, death came knocking on my front door delivering the news that David Baldwin Barnes, was dead. Now, some of you reading this blog know David, but for the others that don't let me give you some background.
I met David almost five years ago in Washington, DC. My first thought was, "Damn, who is this foooinnne, skinny brother?!?!" It was unfortunate for me at that time he had a girlfriend. But that never stopped me from admiring him or becoming his friend. Fast forward two years later, David and I both lose our congressional jobs. Me, I decide to move to Ghana. David he decides to hang in there...at least for a little while. But eventually, he decides Ghana should be his new home. Now, I can't take all the credit for this decision considering his best friend, Chris, was already on ground in Ghana doing farming, but I know I definitely helped influence him. We spent hours talking on skype and I even convinced this boy to cut his locks. Which, if you knew David, was a feat in itself. So he arrived in Ghana, January 21st, 2012, bringing me my fat girl snacks- Butterfingers and Starbursts.
He and his friend Chris lived in the boonies, aka the cut, aka the village (well sort of), so we never really saw much of each other. Occasionally we would randomly bump into each other in town or exchange phone calls if either one of us was in need of information or we had some other random request. But somehow as fate would have it, we spent New Years Eve together.
You see, Accra is the size of a matchbox so there is less than one degree of separation; especially if you have lived abroad. So, although it was surprising, I was not shocked that David was dating a friend of friend.So we spent the weekend together and we laughed. Ok, I am lying really it was my friend and I that had great laughs at the expense of Kuukua, his girlfriend, and David. It was unfortunate that Kuukua and David decided to arrive in Busua late. Therefore, when they arrived the only room at the guest house left didn't have a private bathroom. Considering the bathroom was like a camping latrine from a horror film, its no surprise they wanted to use our private bathroom. What did surprise them, is that we charged them. That's right, we made them buy us each a beer. The look on David's face... priceless. It took him half the trip to get over it, but by New Years Eve we were all chummy again, sitting around the bonfire and then later watching fireworks and dancing on the beach, ringing the New Year in.
So when I got the news last week that David died in a motorcycle accident last week in Accra, Ghana, I instantly broke down in the ugly cry. At first so many emotions ran through me, especially that of guilt. How could I play a pawn in destiny's cruel fate to take David's life? After all, David would have never thought about relocating outside of the country if Chris and I weren't already abroad. But now, one week in I know it was his destiny.
You see David did everything bigger and better than everyone else. He dressed better than his other colleagues, his infectious personality made his 6'4'' frame look bigger than life and his wide smile could be compared to no other. Therefore, I am not surprised that David decided to go out in a way he would be forever remembered. After all, die in your sleep in old age...Nah, that was way too boring for David.
It doesn't make losing him any easier, but knowing David, he is loving all of the attention-even from afar. As his friends and family celebrate David's life this week may we all learn the importance of doing things your way, in your own time and to your own standard of perfection. That is the way David lived each day of his life and I hope to live my life the same. After all, living a life where you follow your dreams and overcome fears and obstacles, is what David would have wanted for all of us. So today I will chase my dreams harder, laugh a little louder and love even harder all in the memory of the great David Baldwin Barnes.
We love you and miss you.
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