Chapter 15: sankpala plugs in

yes, i survived the elections....and once again 'tis time for a tale....

well guys, seems that santa claus ended up getting his fat ass over to third world this year - just in time for christmas.....chief maliguna has power. that's right. power. i have electricity at site now - sankpala has stepped into the 20th century (ghana time, remember...). as luck would have it, this all started because sankpala lay along a path coming from tamale - the almighty source of electricity - to the incredibly small but tribally important sister-village-to-sankpala-despite-the-fact-they're-savage-gonjas village of kusawgu, about 15 km from my front door. evidently the uber-chief in kusawgu wanted some reading light (ha), and the recently reelected political party (n.p.p., as you'll remember - good ol' j.a. kufour) figured it could catch a few northern votes if they turned on the lights up around these parts. you can call it what you will - bribery, what have you - but i'm not complaining one bit. i have electricity now. i have a single light bulb that hangs down from the center of either room of my hut; and - most importantly - i have a fan. i don't think i can even begin to explain how great this is, having a fan - it makes my hut of mud a home of mud. so - thank you, president kufour: i no longer sweat my sheets at night.

i suppose i've jumped ahead of myself a bit here - i should probably back up and catch you all up to date on what i've gone through over the last two months, right? all right then, so this is the story about how i actually got to dodge revolution, spend a white christmas back in america, and triumphantly return to the not-so-dark-continent-anymore-due-to-recent-technological-advances village of sankpala. enjoy....

in the last episode, as you may or may not recall, i was forced to stay at site during an imposed 'standfast' that took place during the country's second-ever democratic elections. the popular party up here ended up losing to the incumbent ruling party (surprise surprise), and more or less everyone was pissed off. warriors from my village deemed it necessary to beat the bejesus out of a local minister or parliament. in yapei, a river town close by that is the gateway to my only means of escape in time of disaster, they thought it'd be smart to burn all the ballot boxes and attack the local voting administrators. in tamale, tanks were rolling and soldiers were advised to more or less shoot 'in the general direction' of where rocks and bullets were coming from, regardless of whether or not crowds of innocent bystanders were around the rioters or not.

i was looking forward to the plane ride home to the snowy lands of michigan.
now, i'm not the smartest guy in the world - as some of you probably know - but i, personally, would deem it necessary for a country in a time of political unrest to maybe - oh, i don't know - CHECK passengers' carryon luggage before they were to board a flight within said country. at the tamale airport, they didn't deem this necessary:

ghanain security officer: [waves metal detector over white man's trousers] "you carry weapons?"
white man: "uh, no."
ghanain security officer: [motions to carryon bag] "what's in this?"
white man: "some cds....a book....a cd player"
ghanain security officer: [motions white man to move along] "ok, enjoy your flight."

call me crazy, but if was the very notion of flying in an airplane piloted by ghanains was scary enough, then the factor of nonexistent security (especially in a time of revolt) was a wee bit disconcerting. anyway, long story short, i flew down to accra, boarded an airplane for amsterdam, and got the hell out of africa.....

did you know on international flights now they have little t.v. screens in the back of the seats ahead of you? and you get to choose what you watch! t.v. shows, new releases, classics, video games....the dutch really know how to get down on their airplanes. the same, unfortunately, cannot be said for they're partners in crime, crappy-ass northwest airlines. very disappointed in their selection there. i won't even begin to go into the food - mainly 'cause there have been innumerable crappy jokes made about airplane food and i'm not about to join their ranks - but let's just say that somewhere along the line, on the way back to africa after the holidays, i contracted giardia - which sucks. google search that one. it really sucks.

i landed in detroit, michigan during the afternoon of dec. 16th, and promptly froze my ass off. 43 friggin' degrees. i came off the plane wearing some busted-up blue jeans, a t-shirt, and flip-flops. to say i was cold would be a horrible understatement. the family and kris were there, and on our way back from the d-town metro i managed to convince the car to pull over at a bennigan's in order to destroy my stomach with greasy, fat-filled food. this was glorious at the time, but all the warnings that i should have heeded about overindulgence came out to be truthful. not having drank ANY dairy in over 14 months, i decided that white russians would be the beverage of choice. and, for good measure, let's throw in a monte cristo (which took me two days to finish). long story short, my digestive system - from the stomach to the butt hole - was pretty pissed at me. was it worth it, though? you bet your ass it was....

let's see, where to start....well, they've got this thing called tivo now. that's nice. i watched a lot of that. i spent a lot of time watching t.v. a lot of time. also, apparently carbohydrates are really really bad and come from the devil, 'cause everything out there now - as you all know - is lo-carb. so THAT'S why americans are fat. huh. who knew. carbs.

i have a nephew now. my stepsister had a kid. it doesn't look like me. i guess that'd be creepy if it did. anyway, that little bastard and i used to be rivals on the hough family web page, but we're cool now. i tried feeding him, but babies don't like apples or beer evidently. i'm not too good with babies, and i don't think he cared for dirty uncle brian too much, so we kept our respective distances but more or less buried the hatchet between the two of us. for the record, however, i only crap my pants when i have malaria....and i can differentiate between edible food and bright, plastic squeaky toys. how many friggin' mass emails have you sent out over the last few months, blake? huh? that's right.....know your place.....

i didn't get to see too much of the college gang during my month-long holiday break - sorry for being lame, guys....i didn't have a car. i talked with a lot of you, though, so you knew what was up - next time i'm back i'll buy a car with my readjustment allowance from peace corps and actually get away from the tivo long enough to say hi and all that. hopefully your guys' holidays were pleasant. most of the high school crew i got to hang out with while i was back, even if it was only once or twice - and that was good. to all those who i didn't get a chance to hang out with, to sum up my christmas vacation, i put on ten pounds (gone again now - thanks, ghanain cuisine), i wasn't tan (thanks, malaria meds), i had malaria while i was back (thanks again, malaria meds), and i was constantly freaking out about just about everything under the sun throughout my entire stay at home. that's it. more or less you didn't miss anything at all. don't feel bad.

everybody's in bands now too - and that sucks 'cause i wish i was in a band now too. actually, i'm recording some tracks with some local tamale musicians, but that doesn't really count, does it. i'm the token white musician. radical. those of you who aren't in bands seem to be married, have intentions of getting married, and/or have babies. this makes me feel old. being an uncle also makes me feel old. not being able to figure out all the latest technology and silently cursing riffraff youths who wear baggy pants also makes me feel old. shitting my trousers when i have malaria makes me feel really old. i'm done now.

new year's was at my dad's house. that was fun. my parents had their friends over, and my brother chris has some friends over, and i had friends over, and kris had friends over. we all had friends over and we had a swell ol' time. not much to really say about that except i think its awesome that drunk people like to sing and like to think they can sing really well when they're drunk. i won't make fun of such people 'cause i'm probably the worst of the lot. i bring the jamz.

i went on a road trip down to atlanta after new year's to visit zack smith. went down there with demay and seloske and kimmel. that was a fun trip. we got to go to a zoo and a basketball game. not much to really say about that except that driving down to atlanta takes a long time, kimmel still loves the jets ("j-e-t-s! jets! jets! jets!"), and smith isn't afraid to drop $1500 on a buy-one-get-one-free shit-zoo dog. speaking of dog, i just ate one last night at it was delicious....

suddenly, it was time to head back. four weeks went by fast, but i was already anxious to return. cabin-fever, or something along those lines. this time, however, i was bringing someone with me. in case you guys didn't know this, the ol' ball n' chain - kris - flew back with me to ghana (different flights, but same time). i won't go into traveling details - besides a bus breaking down for five hours on the 12 hour drive back up north from accra to tamale, it was fairly uneventful - but more or less we safely and securely made it back up into the homeland in one piece.

moving back into the hut was another story. a month's worth of dust accumulated during the month of harmattan (when the winds from the sahara bring pure hell down upon the northern regions of the country), and it was patiently awaiting kristina's broom and dustpan. yes, she had a fun time cleaning that up. i fixed a door, though - man job, you know. EVERYTHING was covered in dust. disgusting. the dishes, the bed, the clothes, the books, the floor where it'd sure be pretty sweet to put furniture on if i could afford it, etc. everything. she cleans well, though - a talent i lack. no problem though, 'cause that door's fixed.

the dagombas were happy to see me, and i them. the dead chief had his funeral, so now a new chief has been enstooled and there's no more chieftaincy dispute. hooray. the forest reserve was burnt down while i was gone - consequently by my old counterpart mohammed, who happens to be the guy in charge of PRESERVING the forest reserve. (my chief gave me free reign to go over to his house and seek justice, which i plan on doing tomorrow with a few of the elders and warriors). alhaji - my landlord - gave me a light bulb and i had lights (as previously mentioned). i was also electrocuted - which hurt. kris and i were smart enough to send three care packages ahead of us with items that we didn't want to have to cram into our luggage. unfortunately, one of these packages contained tampons and i was forced to explain to the customs officer in tamale what tampons were and what they were used for, in front of a bunch of dutch girls at that. if you ever want to see a muslim squirm real bad, just explain to them what tampons are used for. exaggerate the whole blood leaking thing too while you're at that. its bad enough you use the word 'vagina' - bud a bleeding one at that......holy crap. that was a fun day......

i can't really think of much else at this point. that was my holiday break, there and back again. its dusty and the winds are still rampaging across the flatlands. kris seems to be adjusting eerily fast. my fan and lights rule. the fire festival and the damba festival are coming up within the next month, so the next chapter should be fairly entertaining hopefully. damn - i know i'm forgetting something. oh well. i pray you found this enjoyable to an extent: my break was enjoyable, and for those i saw while i was back you probably know this.....and probably found this email really boring (sorry). for those i didn't see, like i said before - next time. i'll be home by thanksgiving at the latest.....if they don't kick me out of the country before that. actually, that's something i forgot to mention in this letter....me and peace corps hq officially don't like each other now, but fortunately i can talk my way out of just about anything, so here in ghana i remain. ha. well, in closing, i wish everyone the best and all that hooplah. keep up the good work in the states - if you need me, you know where to find me....over here in God's country.

until next time.....

col. brian j. hough, a.k.a. chief maliguna
9th royal donkey cavalry regiment
sankpala, n.r.