Driving in Adum is a nightmare, and parking is even worse. Imagine a 12 theater Cineplex all getting out at 9 PM and all the cars arriving for a 9 PM start. As it happens, there is a fair taking up ½ the lot spaces and 100,000 people going to and from the fair at the same time, and they have used up all the theater parking spaces. This gives you a picture of cars butting in from everywhere and pedestrians barging in and out between all the cars, and most of them carrying the equivalent of airline luggage on their heads.
None of the intersection traffic lights work. They didn’t work last year. Perhaps the new system seems to work better: everyone just drives into the intersection and honks his horn. Because Ghanaians practice “close tolerance driving” (2 inches is enough), amazingly the traffic sorts itself out and keeps moving. By early morning both curbs have a buffer zone of headlight to taillight parked cars. Because the streets are narrow this leaves about the width of a single lane in Canada. It’s a two way street in Ghana until a taxi (which make up about 75% of the vehicles) drops off a fare and double parks. You simply pull into opposing traffic and drive on unless there IS opposing traffic (which there always is) so you sit on your horn instead. This horn blaring assists the taxi driver in soliciting the correct fare and quickly dispensing his client to nudge between parked cars—I think.
I know I will find a parking spot because I know that 0.01% of the parked cars are there on temporary business and will leave their parking space just ahead of my arrival. I have dropped Marlayne at Melcom’s Dept. Store and will meet her upstairs she says. She meant at Melcom’s, but one look at traffic and I thought she meant the afterlife!
I began circling the block deftly dodging pedestrians and potholes alike. Only twice around the block and I am convinced that Marlayne is finished shopping and worried about where I am. Mournfully I wish we had brought walkie-talkies. This will be my last circle of the block. I will drive to Patasi to park and take a taxi back to fetch Marlayne. Wait, wait, wait, I see back-up lights ahead. There is a meter-maid backing out a parked car and only 3 taxis between us. Praise the Lord, I am only a block and a half from Melcom’s! There are no meters. The ‘meter-maid’ puts a time slip under my windshield wiper and will extract payment before stopping traffic to allow me to reverse out of the angle parking spot.
Hurrying back to Melcom’s is like trying to get into the Coliseum, after the game is over and against the patrons leaving. Seeing a woman with about sixty 2-cup bags of water on her head, I give her 10 pesewas for a 5 pesewa bag, and she thanks me. I know by now Marlayne will need water also. Indeed, she is upstairs at Melcom’s and nearly finished shopping. As we are about to leave I realize that I have insufficient GHC funds. I inquired at one of the checkouts if they took USD and she needed GHC, but promptly rose from her chair, left her post, walked me outside the building and about 2 blocks up the street to the door of the Foreign Exchange Bureau! Again, a rather typical response consistent with the way we are treated in Ghana. I changed USD for GHC at a rate of 1 USD to 1.3 GHC and paid Melcom’s 34.75 GHC for a Sanyo toaster and miscellaneous plastic ware.
Large narrow wagons with car-sized tires are used extensively in Adum to move goods from marshalling areas to specific stores. One such wagon was being unloaded by two women, and its’ rear tire was close to my door making it a very narrow entry to the driver’s seat. I couldn’t help acting the comic. I opened the door against the tire and stood there looking puzzled and scratching my head to the obvious amusement of my audience. Turning sideways, back to the car, I put the first foot inside and stopped with a distressed look on my face. Every time I squiggled to get farther in I changed expression on my face from being hurt to relieved to surprise, enough to make even Jim Carrey envious, and much encouraged by the gales of laughter from my audience. I hung my chin over the top of the door as if being hanged and with such a distressed look they nearly tried to move the cart on my behalf. I turned my face sideways and slumped into the car with a big grin on my jib.
I am certain that such foolish antics would not be so well received in Canada.
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