Chestnuts Roasting

The exams have been graded, the scores recorded and to the beach I run. I considered myself properly prepared for a very un-Christmaslike Christmas. Having spent the last few years in San Francisco, I am used to the un-White Christmas paradigm and it ceases to bother me. Other volunteers complained ceaselessly about it “not feeling like Christmas”. To them I say: Well, sometimes Ghana doesn’t even feel like reality so why would you think Christmas would be the exception. I spent Christmas with a few volunteers at one the many paradisiacal Beach Resorts, massaging my toes in the sand, wrestling with the brutal Ghanaian surf, and of course drinking beer. What else should a Christmas be but extreme relaxation? This objective was most certainly achieved.

This is the hammock in which I spent the majority of my Christmas Eve. No complaints.

A picture of the Tree House you can sleep in, if you so desire and I do.

When you have nothing to do, doing nothing somehow the thing you want to do least, so my friends and I made a plan that upon waking one morning we would walk the beach down to a place we called “The Big Rock”. It is literally just a big rock but it gave us enough structure that the day seemed like busy one (by West African standards at least).

This is a picture our successful arrival at the Big Rock. Yes, glory was in the air.

Standing on the Big Rock looking back.

Who could complain about a Christmas Eve sunset like this?

Happy Holidays to All.