Today Ford got the bikes set up then we were on our way to get matching tattoos as a celebration for the beginning of our journey. Silvanus got us a taxi driver to take us to a good artist about 40 minutes away. We took a road that led us directly towards the ocean then we drove along the coast. People were taking siestas during the heat of the day and I noticed I started to crush on all the Ghanaian men. They were so attractive to me.
We opened the windows to get some fresh air but instead received dust in our eyes and the smell of exhaust that seemed to make our heads hurt. The paved road would end then turn into gravel and back to paved. Most of the trash I saw was directly by the ocean—bags and bags, overflowing heaps of them, mostly full of plastic bottles.
Our driver got pulled over for not stopping for the person trying to cross the road. A big black muscular Ghanaian police officer came running to the driver’s side. “Ay! What ah you doin’ not letting that olda woman cross da road?! Show me your license!”
He begins to explain there was no crosswalk and that it was an invalid reason to be pulled over.
That seemed to aggravate the officer even more. “Ah you stupid?!“
Immanuel tried defending the driver, only to be yelled at, too.
“Shut up!” the officer screamed, then again demanded the driver for his license.
Ford and I looked at one another, our eyes revealing how different the interaction would’ve been if it were in America. Eventually he gave in and handed him the license to which the officer let us go.
“So, uh,” I started, “are the police here bad or good?“
“They ah good here,” the driver said, “but that was not a valid reason to pull me ova. He only pulled me ova so he could see my license.“
He stopped to fill up gas while Ford walked 20’ away to have a cigarette. Meanwhile, my driver starts hitting on me.
“You like to have fun?” he asked.
“Yes, I love fun!”
“Mm, me, too.” He handed me his phone as if to put in my number. “Do you want to have fun with me in Ghana?”
Jesus, Ford really can’t leave me for a second.
He was cute, but I promised myself I wouldn’t get into any shenanigans while I was out here.
We arrived at the shop then Ford and I sat down on some tires outside next to a sign painted on a wall that read: DO NOT URINATE HERE. People walked by, covered from head to toe in heavyweight clothing. We were baffled by how they could take on such heat, let alone in jeans and not be breaking out in sweat.
“Is it because we’re white?” I asked.
Then it came time for our tattoo. It was probably the sketchiest place I had ever gotten a tattoo done, besides the motel. It wasn’t hygienic nor a sterile environment but I had tough skin and knew I’d be fine. We had a half assed idea of what we wanted to get but were open to changing it in the moment. Last second we decided on an outline of Africa with a cyclist riding on top. In the other corner, our cyclist names, ‘Zuri & Dubu.’
“This is going to look bad for both of us when we start dating different people,” I said.
Ford got his shoulder tatted first while the guy spoke to us about ‘what you give is what you get.’
“My religion is karma,” he said. “I believe if you do good, good will come back. I believe religion teaches a similar thing.”
Then it was my turn. Ford left me with the guy while he went to smoke a cigarette. There was some momentary silence before he started asking if I was really married to Ford. I knew it looked like a big age difference but I stuck with ‘yes.’ He didn’t drop it until I appeared serious with it. It felt so weird for me to lie, and honestly, I wasn’t that convincing.
“Did the taxi driver hit on you?” he asked.
I nodded.
He laughed. “Ghanians love hard. They don’t like you. They love you. And they will show you in an overwhelming way.”
After we got our tattoos, I privately asked Ford to please not leave me alone if possible because I really did feel quite nervous. I grew up with certain conditioning and I knew it wasn’t real but I was still naturally on edge because of it.
Immanuel had waited for us, so all three of us decided to go hang out at the beach and grab some food. We were led to the lawn chairs, as if to relax, but instead were immediately swarmed with people who were trying to sell us things—necklaces, wood work or people playing on guitar/clicking wooden instruments. It was quite intense and we did everything in our power to avoid them coming over to us. At one point, we even made it look like we were in the middle of an argument (it didn’t work).
Then, we saw white people walking on the shoreline. We were so excited we almost took a picture of them. Then one of the lifeguards approached us. He picked a conversation with Ford then gifted me an ‘OM’ bracelet. He wanted nothing in return. At first I genuinely thought he was just trying to be nice but last second he asked if we could buy him a beer.
“You don’t hafta trouble yourself to walk up there and buy it for me,” he said, “you can just give me da money.”
As we ate our food, some kids stood in a line in front of all the lawn chairs as if they were warming us up for a show. They started out dancing then quickly threw in some acrobatic moves such as standing on someone’s head with one foot then using each other to do backflips. Even the littlest of kids were doing impressive handstands and cartwheels. They were all getting a kick out of my facial expressions. One little kid, around 8 years of age, took a fire stick and shoved it into his pants directly over his crotch. When he saw my ‘what the fuck’ reaction and laughed as he tried again. That time, he held it a few seconds longer and accidentally set his pubes on fire! Everyone in the audience broke out in laughter when his friends helped throw sand in his pants to cool him off.
The rest of the time, Ford and I both partook in the joy of sexualizing the attractive Ghanaian people, both of us falling in love with their shapely features. We were both looking in either directions at people we fancied, pointing out how they walked or the way their eyes were shaped. Then, I spotted a godly looking man on a horse close to the water. We locked eyes and I quickly broke it.
“Oh my god,” I breathed as I forcefully tapped Ford’s shoulder. “We made eye contact.“
“Well he’s coming towards you,” Ford said. “You should talk to him.”
“No! Are you crazy?! He’s like a fucking gazelle.”
Next thing I know he’s standing over me, going in to shake Ford’s hand. When he shook mine he tickled a finger onto my palm. My eyes widened and my face turned beet red because I knew what that meant.
“Hello, welcome,” he said.
“Would you like a picture with my horse?“ he asked.
Don’t say you want to ride his horse. Whatever you do, don’t say you want to ride his horse.
I stood there stunned and said, “No, thank you.”
Ford clenched his teeth and whispered, “Freyja, do you want a picture with the guy?”
“No.”
He started walking away.
“Okay fine!” I blurted.
The guy laughed and started to place me next to his horse.
“Can I take a picture with you instead of your horse?”
He thought it was cute and agreed to it. I was cheesing. He knew I loved it so he pulled me tight towards his hips then leaned his head onto mine. I bit my tongue. All I could think about was how this was going to be the longest month of my life to be surrounded by all these godly sculpted chocolate panther-like men and not be able to taste any of them. I knew I could but I didn’t think it was respectful to go screw around while I was with Ford, and also because I heard HIV was quite prevalent.
“Isn’t it great not being married?!“ Ford joked.
I sat down and stared at what I wanted to be my future husband riding away on his horse. I started fantasizing about him, suddenly getting extremely horny. Right at that second, a random woman started massaging me.
“Sista sista,” she said as she dug her knuckles into my back.
I squirmed out of her grip as it felt weird getting touched by a woman when I was in the middle of having sexual thoughts about a dude.
Then, Ford fell in love with a girl wearing camouflage pants. She, too, looked like a gazelle.
“Why are you looking at that girl?!” I joked.
“Hey! You’re cheating on me, too! If you want him so bad then go ahead and just run away with him.”
We burst out laughing. “We are so out of their league,” I said. “They deserve each other.”
We got going then used our first toilet outside of Nego Lodge. There was a man sitting inside the structure who appeared very serious when we came in. Unbeknownst to us we had to pay, we started walking towards the toilets.
“Ay! You owe me money,” he said.
“Oh! Sorry.”
We gave him some but he just said, “More. More. More.” He didn’t tell us how much and so we kept giving him all of the coins we had. I could tell he was trying to rip us off by the energy that her daughter was giving him.
Ford went into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. We all saw him pull out 100 cedi.
“Ya ya just gimme 100 cedi,” the guy said.
“I just have to pee!” Ford said. “I’m not giving you 100.”
“You ah a funny guy!”
“Yeah, I’m not a stupid funny guy!“ Ford joked back.
He let us go through, brushing us off. Then, we took a taxi back. In the heat of the traffic, a little girl came up to our window and placed her hands inside. She looked healthy but she begged us for money, putting her puppy dog face on real hard. “Please,” she said, gesturing for food and water. She stood there despite us politely saying no, staring back at us until I broke out in sweat.
When we came back home, I saw a bunch of kids who spotted me and stared. As soon as one saw me, they all ran up and started pointing at my arms.
“Tattoos,” I said.
“Ohhhh!“ they celebrated.
I helped them pronounce the words as I pointed to the drawings. “Snake. Octopus.”
They pointed at other parts of my body seeing where I had more ink on my legs. They were so stunned by my appearance, then found more things that caught their attention such as my macramé rings.
“Macramé,” I said.
“Macramé,” they repeated.
Then, they noticed my lipgloss and fell in love with the sparkle. I pulled the gloss out of my pocket then put some on and puckered my lips. They mimicked the motion of my puckering. Then, they kissed my arms all over and hugged me close. First time I actually fell in love with children rather than trying to push them off of me.