Haircuts and karaoke

One doesn’t go to Africa to find a Filipino karaoke party. But sometimes it just finds you. More on that in a moment. In the meantime, I can relate that tropical heat is, in fact, hot. Upon stepping outside the air seems to have a kind of mass of its own, like yogurt, say, and it lays on you and drips off. And this is, by all accounts, the cool season. So I had no choice but to liberate my head of hair. Goodbye Hardy Boys hair, hello free top.

I can also confirm that both the chicken and the pork are deliciuos, and the hot sauce bona fide, at the Tasty Jerk. They are well matched with a large Gunder beer. I can’t tell you where it is or how to get there, so perhaps there is something unfair in my sharing the recommendation. But unfortunately I must seize this rare opportunity to use the words “tasty” and “jerk” together.

We took the day off today, and did little that took us out of the compound; when you awake at 10 the afternoon can disappear quickly. I whiled away some time researching the origin of the constellation of bites I somehow acquired overnight, but decided they gave my skin an added decorative touch that is not without its charms.

This brings me back to the Filipino karaoke party, about which I don’t quite know where to start. It was your typical house party, I suppose. But it was a real United Nations of drunks and bad balladry. We made sure the U.S. was well represented in both categories. But the hosts were very hospitable, providing food and drink to any and all who came. Shawn thanked them with a rousing rendition of Gloria Gaynor's “I Will Survive.” To promote continued positive relations, I steered clear of the microphone.

In addition to the hosts, who are in Ghana in varying business capacities, those in attendance included a representative from the Danish embassy, a passel of former Peace Corps volunteers, development workers of various stripes and a revolving cast of others.