Journal entry from Kokrobite

For a change of pace, I decided to post some stuff straight from my personal journal:

Kokrobite, Ghana
May 10th, 2008
Saturday

Big Milly's again, in Kokrobite. Baking in the sun. Three naked children with skin as dark as night are running in and out of the ocean, the water on their backs glistening in the sun. It's about noon time with the sun directly overhead. Spent a good part of the morning in Stephon's shop learning to play the big wooden bass drum. He's a 29 year old Togolese man who moved here 2 years ago. A very patient drum instructor. My sweat is spoiling this page.

Later:
Still baking on the beach. My skin turning more red by the minute, but not burnt. I'd never admit to that. We tried to find out if we could stay another night, but the loft is full and there is only one tent (with holes) left. Not to mention that I only have 5 cedis left. I owe 1.50 to a man I bought jewelry from, and about 2 to get home. There are many annoying men on the beach today. [Don't make eye contact.] Little girls with heavy baskets of fruit on their heads walk by me trying to sell. They have this pigeon strut, gained by much practice at carrying the large baskets on their heads. They move their eyeballs skillfully from side-to-side, scanning the area for thirsty mouths that are craving the sweet juice inside the oranges and pineapples. A man just came over and asked if he could take my picture. I say no. He asks why, unable to take the rejection. I tell him that I don't know him and I don't want him taking my "Piktcha." "Oh, but you are nice," he says. "Go away," responds the born-and-raised New Yorker that has taken over my usual self.

Later:
The boy is slicing open coconuts. I really wish I didn't have to leave here today. There is a wonderful breeze from the ocean, effortlessly lifting my tangled hair into the air. My skin feels warm and crisp (but not burnt). I love when my skin feels this way. I really wish I wasn't out of money. Pasta aubergine sounds amazing right now. Guess I'll have to settle for a beef khebob and "pure water." Stephon is walking up, better sign out.

My patient drum teacher, Stephon, and I. This picture was taken a couple of weeks ago.