A Typical Morning In Ghana

I've been meaning to put this up for awhile but had wanted to add some punctuation and take out a few of the more vulgar words. Turns out that I can't be bothered to do so as it would take valuable time away from doing things like wandering aimlessly around ancient European towns and touring the Prado. Life is too short for grammar or censorship.

The following is pretty much a typical morning in the life of the dysfunctional family I stayed with. The only thing that changed in four weeks is that the rooster's wake up call was replaced by the equally early and much more disturbing sound of goats bleating. I heard a baby pig get butchered in India and it was no where nearly as awful (granted I got to eat it later). I can't even begin to phonetically create a word that accurately represents it's horrific-ness, but the best way to describe it would be to say it's like the sound you expect to hear coming from something being slowly and systematically beaten to death. I believe it was simply mating season.

Anyways, hopefully it makes sense.

My Second Morning in Ghana:

4am-ish (maybe earlier): fuckin' rooster
6am-ish: fucking rooster
7am: expletive expletive rooster expletive rain expletive
7:30: would you like your coffee? yea, that would be great. but please I'll just grab it. No, no, no. please sit. ok ok.
7:35: she went to get bread, wait ten minuets.
7:40: 3 year old grandson does something wrong, is reprimanded by grandmother, ignores, young aunt goes to stop him, he attacks with feet and fists.
7:50: coffee arrives with bread. Thanks, oh and i forgot to say thank you for the eggs yesterday, they were great. you want some today. oh no, don't worry about it. No no, eggs are coming.
8:15: awesome egg, tomato and onion omelet.
8:20: Can you show me how to do the laundry. Bring it and I'll do it this time. Half-assed attempt to insist on doing it myself, followed by ok, but just this once.
8:30: it is pointed out to me that the male duck has mounted the female duck.
8:45: grandson annoys large duck. duck bites kid. kid runs to porch crying.
9:00: I think I am supposed to be at the school. Wait we will take you when we are done.
9:15: dog who has been ignoring the world, at times half covered by dirty clothes, and empty buckets, must feel naked without them, wakes up and begins snapping at flies. a kitten follows suit. soon both are consumed by attempting to consume flies.
9:30 the washing is done, the ladies have gone inside to eat, and avoid the grandson who had just taken to whacking things with a long, narrow piece of plastic tube and then crying whenever one of the young aunts grabs the other end and tries to control him.
9:35: having forgotten the previous encounter with the ducks, the grandson starts acting uber hyper and running around them with a toy pistol.
9:38: with a flurry of wings and quacking the male duck jumps onto the boy's side, latching on with his webbed feet, wings still beating and tries to bite the boys back.
9:38 and 10 seconds: both boy and myself realize that while he can go toe to toe with his aunts, he is no match for the fury of a pissed off white duck with a red face.
9:38 and 12: tears and screaming ensue.
9:38 and 13 seconds: I hop off the porch and whack the duck with my book. duck hisses while the boy clings to my leg before I hoist him onto the porch and he goes running to his Grandma.
9:50: The incident has been forgotten.
9:55: the ducks are fed. why do you keep them around, what are good for? they keep the snakes away. fair enough.
10:15: Leave for school.