On another note, remember when I asked my mom about the change in my sweat smell? Because the smell of sweat is caused by bacteria and I was wondering if my sweat smelled like Africans because of my change of diet or because of African armpit bacteria. Well, she had an answer for me - apparently, she believes it's the latter option. My American armpit bacteria have been annihilated by the African armpit bacteria and now the newcomers have settled in and changed the entire scent scheme. Needless to say, I'm feeling kind of guilty. My poor little American bacteria had no desire to come here, then I force them into it and BAM, they're shoved aside, no ceremony to the loss. On the plus, apparently bacteria can hibernate for a long time, so maybe they're just hibernating until I get back home.
That said, here's my email to my mom.
I shall anxiously await your email to add to the blog. :) I do not look forward to the flight home. That said, it was really wonderful seeing you and I'm forever grateful that a. you're largely tolerant of me and b. that you're my mom.
Want to know the WEIRDEST thing I've learned about Ghanaians? So, yesterday Mustafa (our cook's son, he's a complete little firecracker who breaks everything he touches, but looks adorable and giggles all the while) came in the house with a white mouth and sticks out his tongue to show Stronggy and I. I ask what it is and Stronggy tells me that it's aielo. Aielo is...processed clay. Like from the ground white clay. And Ghanaians eat it. Dumbfounded I pressed him, "Like dirt? Why in the world would adults eat dirt?" He explains that it tastes/smells like it smells right after a rain (you know that nice smell, right?) and people like that. So, anyhow, today I went to the market and bought some. While Precious was getting her hair done I sampled it (under the careful watch of half a dozen women) and...mom, it's dirt. Grimy, dirty dirt. Ghanaians eat dirt. Not all Ghanaians mind you, but some. I don't know how to come to terms with it.
In other news (tragic news!) my flip flops of 3+ years have just broken. I'd be lying if I didn't tell you that I was in fact pretty saddened by the loss.
In other other news (also on the Ghanaians are strange front) I got the stories written by the 4th graders today. They're kind of boring largely, with a few really neat ones and, this one, which, in the States would have me running the kid to see a therapist, but, apparently it's cool here and not a big deal.
With no further adieu, The Hen and The Mouse.
(Note: I'll fix spelling, but nothing else.)
Once upon a time there lived 2 good friends called hen and mouse. One day hen told mouse that they should go and cut sticks to build a house. Mouse told hen that he had his own house so that if rain would fall he would go to his own house so he would not go. So hen went and cut the sticks to use to build the house.
When rain was falling his house was full of water so he ran to hen's house and said that hen should give him a towel so he can clean the water. After insulting mouse she gave the towel to mouse. The mouse said she should give her cloth.
And hen was insulting mouse. After insulting mouse, she gave the cloth to mouse.
So mouse said he would sleep on hen's bed and hen was insulting mouse. After insulting him, she said mouse should come and sleep. Then, when they were sleeping mouse called to hen and said that he and hen will get love.
So when they are sleeping mouse said, "I will sleep with hen." When they are sleeping then mouse said that he will rape hen. And he was raping her and his penis has cut into hen's vagina and they tight it and they are doing it and the penis has cut into hen's vagina and they tight. Once when they are doing it his penis cut into hen's vagina.
I have no idea what to do with this story. Precious said it's good because they've been studying rape in RME (religious and moral education).
Well, that's all. Love you!