My first soft peanut

by Hannah S. (Germany)

A leap into the unknown Ghana

The doors behind the customs officers slid open and gave way to yet another wall. Stepping into the hot block of humidity that engulfes this place did not knock me over, like many warned me it would. For some reason, my body welcomed the intense warmth and softness of the tropical air. Kotoka International Airport. I did it. I actually pulled off this impulsive visit; following my natural curiosity. "Your curiosity will kill you one day," someone told me once while I grimaced, trying to swallow some unknown very greasy yet remarkably tasteless food. A way too negative and discouraging advice, if you ask me. Obviously I have chosen not to believe it. "Taxi! Taxi! Madam, Taxi?!" Shouts everywhere, a busy swarm of taxi drivers making their way towards me out of the waiting crowd, grabbing my arms and suitcase. Welcome to Accra, Ghana. That's when I finally saw the familiar face I was looking for appear between them. Just a few weeks ago we had worked together at a festival in Germany. That was when the three Ghanaian artists insisted on inviting me to their country. Three young men, not total strangers but still. Yet, there was something about their entertaining attitude, their music, their language that fascinated me and I could not help but trust that this would be a good experience. We greeted each other and made our way to the car. It was time to get rid some of the layers I had needed on the chilled plane. Even though I was already enjoying this climate in comparison to German December standards, the hoodie was too much. The midday sun was grilling the parking lot. With rolled down windows we left the airport grounds and the warm breeze - no, let me correct myself - the hot breeze (I did not know until then that a breeze could be this hot) streamed across my face. There were quite unfamiliar scents in the air. Not necessarily unpleasant, but I could not quite make out the various ingredients. It was different from the strong spicy flavor that I know from warm Mediterranean summers. Plants were in there, definitely, but also a big portion of ... exhaust fumes. Not the nostalgic occasional "Greek motorcycle stench", but something more dense. As we approach the first traffic light after the two modern roundabouts next to the airport, I can see why. We are now facing a stream of cars and battered vans, the latter packed with people fanning their sweaty faces. As I find out later, these are the local buses, "trotros" as the locals call them, or "trosky". While I am taking in the traffic, the noise and the black fumes, I can also see a handful of beggars sitting by the roadside close to us. Some are children, some physically handicapped elderly people, which are also accompanied by children. The person approaching our car is not one of them, however. It is a woman balancing a big silver-colored plate on her head. I now realize there are so many of them, men, women, and children, scurrying inside the heavy traffic, conducting business, selling all kinds of things. This particular one was selling meticulously stacked ... peanuts! One by one in big circles on top of each other, forming an incredible neat pile, which I cannot believe is not moving an inch as she hurries towards us before the light changes. Of course I want to try, duh, and she swiftly hands us a small plastic bag she had already prepared and collects the money from my friend. Ghana Cedis, the currency that consists of mostly bank notes, even the ones, usually very soft and almost ripped from numerous daily changes of hand. Mental note: I have to find an ATM to get cash of my own. The traffic light turns green and I take out my first peanut - groundnut, as they call it in Ghana. It is soft! "These are the steamed kind", my friend explains. I don't know what to expect from soft, slightly damp peanuts, but I pop it into my mouth and ... it's delicious! Curiosity is definitely a filler. ;)