The Key

The hubster and I just returned from a 10-day trip to South Africa.   We had some great experiences there and took a ton of pictures so I was thinking I would do an entire blog post about our trip. I mean who doesn’t like stories and photos of great food, beautiful coastlines, wine tasting, forests, friends, running (okay, some of you may not really be that interested in that or any of the other things I mention) and PENGUINS. But then yesterday happened here in Accra.   A “normal” day here is hardly ever dull and yesterday was the perfect example of how a seemingly small task can morph into a day-long ordeal.

The day started with a run – not atypical for me, but my lovely running group here has slowly dwindled down in the last few weeks.   All my friends here are in their forties and have school age children and when school lets out for the summer all the expat families take off. We visited two of my friends while we were in South Africa, let’s call them RF1 and RF2, where they are both spending the entire summer with their families. Two other running friends, RF3 and RF4 are staying in town because they both work full-time here but RF3 is on a trip to the US and the RF4 is in Germany. That leaves my nearest and dearest friend here, RF5. She and her husband, RF5H, have been the best friends one can ask for both to me and the hubster. We have run together and eaten together countless times in the last 10 months.   They are a lively family of 5 from Israel and have lived in Accra for 5 years and love to travel and experience the country and they feel like family to us. And they left.   Last night. For 6 weeks to Israel, Norway and Sweden. RF5 returns a few days before I return to the US, for good.   So when RF5 and I finish our run we give each other tearful, sweaty goodbyes.   I have a hard time imagining my life without RF5 in it everyday.   So my day starts with this deep sadness. I miss her already.

Onto the rest of the day…Last month the hubster and I agreed to house a doctoral student from Stanford for a month while she is in Accra doing fieldwork for her dissertation. She arrives this Sunday and we needed to get an extra key made because I unfortunately lost one of our keys one day while I was out walking.   Getting a key made in the US is easy and I had already been warned by one of the hubster’s colleagues (who also lost his key) that there are few places to get a key made in Accra. This is a city of over 2 million people and they are no locksmiths?  I have the name of the place where the hubster’s colleague went and around 10 AM, I call an Uber and venture out to get the key made.   I have already told myself that this might not go smoothly so I put on my patient and understanding hat for the day rather than my uptight American type A one.

The place (Key Doctors and Solutions) is in an area that I have never been to and the Uber driver gets a little lost including driving down a dead end street and insists that the place is on the street. I don’t really know or understand how the maps on Uber works or why the driver’s map and my map are not the same, but on my app I can see that the place is around the corner and after some discussion he gets me there. I have him drop me across the street sure that I am in the right place because I can see the bright yellow sign for “Key Doctors”. I step into a dirt courtyard and look around – I can’t tell if the buildings are living structures or businesses. It looks deserted except for a woman sitting in a plastic chair breastfeeding a baby. The door for the shop is next to her. There is a grate across it.   I ask her if she knows if they are going to open (sign says open 8AM – 5 PM). She shakes her head. Points to the sign and says, “Call them. Not coming. They moved.” I call the number. Nice guy answers. I tell him I am at the shop and he confirms that they have moved but he tells me, “It is close by and I will send the location to your phone.” Got it.   I try to copy and paste the location into my Uber app (street addresses are not really a thing here) but it seems like it is not the right place but decide I can figure it out when I get in my Uber. I thank the lactating mom for her help and find out the baby’s name is Francis and then go back to the street to wait for my next Uber. While waiting several taxis drive by with the traditional honk and turned up hand to see if I need a ride. One taxi driver goes by and yells out his window, “Your Uber is not coming!” I smile and laugh as does he. I guess an Obroni standing on the street with her cell phone is a dead giveaway that she is waiting for an Uber.

The Uber arrives. I tell him that a taxi driver said he wasn’t coming. He also thinks this is funny. I show him the map of where I need to go and it is not the same place that the Uber app shows so he takes my phone and follows my Google map. He says he is amazed how fast my phone is.   We are on our way. We are going through areas of Accra that I never knew existed – also the new shop is not “close by” – it is about a 30 minute drive in any area called “New Town”.   As we approach the pinned location I see the large yellow sign again for the Key Doctors. The Uber drives pulls in – the shop is in an old shipping container (common here) and it is very new looking inside. I hand over my key and ask if they can make me two copies. They look through their blank domestic keys (as opposed to car keys) and they have a blank that is similar but short. They ask that I take a seat in one of the two plastic chairs while they find the right key.   Five minutes go by and one of the guys comes to me with my key and the short key and tells me, ”This key is too short we cannot make a copy of your key.” I ask, ”Okay, then is there somewhere I can get a copy made?” Another guy in the container pipes up (this guy seems to be the one I talked to on the phone and the boss), “Oh we can get the key made for you this afternoon and have someone deliver it to you.”   Excellent.  He asks where I live. I say, “Airport Residential.” He asks, “Near where?” I say, “Koala Airport.” This is a store in our neighborhood and one of the few landmarks anyone knows in Airport Residential. He continues to ask me some more specifics about where I live and I ask him if I should just send him the location just as he sent me theirs. And with that question, all 5 employees inside the store start laughing hysterically.   I look at them confused and the boss goes on to explain, “You see, madam, our driver cannot read a map so it will not do any good.” I laugh because I have found this true of many Ghanaians including Uber drivers.

We agree that the driver will call me when he gets to Koala and I can either give him directions from there or walk up and meet him. While I wait for my Uber to pick me up the boss and I chat and he tells me that he thinks it is a shame that so many Ghanaians cannot read a map. He says he wishes they taught kids in school how to read maps. He asks me, “How will they ever be able to go anywhere else but their neighborhood if they cannot read a map?” Yes, good point.   My Uber comes. It is now 11:30 AM. While in the Uber I call the hubster to let him know what I have been up to for the last few hours but also to ask him if he can meet me at the apartment (his office is close luckily) to let me in as now I do not have a key. Of course he agrees, but first he has a bit of an anxiety attack about me leaving my key with someone. The hubster has some weird obsession about keys and always needing to have them close by. I try to explain to him that it is all good – the Key Doctors and I have an agreement and I am confident that I will see my key and the copies at some point. He is skeptical.

First, I have the Uber drop me off at the market (not Koala) and I do some grocery shopping and then get another Uber home. I call the hubster to let him know I am close. Four Uber rides and two and half hours later I get back home still without keys but I have food and a guarantee from the Key Doctors that I will have keys later that day. The hubster makes it home to let me in and I make some lunch, do a little French homework and then take a short nap. I don’t know if I am tired from waking at 5 to run or from the emotional goodbye with RF5 or the running around for the keys but I have the best nap I have had in years.   Afterwards, two out of three of my kids call me and I tell them about my crazy morning. I think they are bored with my stories.

Around 3 there is a pounding on my door. It is our building superintendent and he has a guy with him, a ladder and a handful of light bulbs. We asked about 5 months ago if they could put stronger wattage bulbs in our kitchen as it is really hard to see especially when we are doing dishes. We also have a bulb out in our bedroom and we have asked a couple of times this month if they could put a new one in and reminded them about the kitchen bulbs (for the nth time). We can’t reach the fixtures since we do not have a ladder or anything that gets us close to the fixture so we have been at the mercy of the maintenance staff. Today is our lucky day.  About the same time the guy is changing the bulbs I get a call from the Key Doctors letting me know that they have successfully made the keys but that the driver has not yet picked them up but he will call when he gets close to my apartment. Around 4 PM I receive an invoice from Key Doctors via text. At 5:15 PM I get a call from the driver. He is at Koala. For a second I think about giving him directions to our compound or at least the German Aid office down the street but I remember the hysterical laughter from his colleagues and think it might just be best to meet him at Koala.   I hoof it up to the market – a five or ten minute walk. I get to the parking lot and don’t see anyone lurking around. I call the driver. Me: “I’m here at Koala.” Driver: “Me too.” I laugh at the absurdity of this conversation. Me: “I am the white lady in the orange shirt.” I see a guy now waving at me from behind a tree with a cell phone to his ear. I have found my guy. He hands over the keys. I pay him and walk back home.

I arrive home around 5:30. The hubster is already home from work and he is beaming because he has already discovered the brighter bulbs in the kitchen. Better late than never I suppose. I test the new keys – both work. We sit down and have a glass of wine and celebrate the small victories of today. Things here may not happen quickly or efficiently but they do usually eventually happen. Can’t wait to meet our temporary roommate and give her a bright shiny new key.

Hiking with RF1 and her family along the coast of South AFrica

Boulders Beach – Penguins

Cape Point

Baby Penguins

The beautiful southern coast of South Africa