Fufu

Here is the first evidence that I have existed in Ghana, since I have yet to take any photos of myself:

I am turning the fufu (staple dish usually made from yam or cassava, yam in this case), while Awine pounds it. If I lose the rhythm, I lose a finger. I believe that this method of making food could be an integral aspect of the HARD CORPS (see previous blog post).

The woman that lives next door, Vivian, came over and was shocked to see this and insisted I bring my camera so she could take a picture. Apparently man Ghanaian men refuse to turn the fufu, because they are afraid of getting smashed (and I am sure partially because it is considered woman's work). She also said that white people can't even watch when she pounds fufu because they don't want to see her smash a finger. I just wanted my dinner done sooner. This has become my favorite food here.

In other news, Tamale is experiencing some unrest. I heard of it last night as there were some gunshots. This is nothing new to me, living in Seattle's Central District, but still surprising here in Ghana. On the way to work this morning I saw a couple clouds of big black smoke, which turned out to be burning homes. It turned out to be political violence (yeah, a month and a half after the peaceful election) and one of the staff members that lives in the conflicted neighborhood couldn't leave his home this morning to come to work. I imagine this should be over pretty quickly.