I’d forgotten how Murphy’s Law rules West Africa with an unrelenting, almost dizzying attention to detail.

My week started in true happy-go-lucky West Africa fashion: I walk over to the school to speak with the head teacher to see if they’d be interested in organizing any animation/ story-telling workshops over the next two weeks, and he says, “sure thing, how many students can you handle?” And 30 seconds later I am running the actual session.

Tuesday West Africa again surprised me, this time by the fact that not one artist showed up to my workshop. Ditto Wednesday. My Thursday 10AM appointment to visit some art welders and woodshops showed up Friday at 5pm, two hours after my Friday 10AM ride to Accra finally departed, with me in it.

So, week 2 as the “resident” (read: only) artist at this art institute consisted of 1 workshop with kids and 4 days of sitting around waiting for people to show up. And now I am in Accra, but my clothes were forgotten back at the institute, so I am wearing nothing but a borrowed towel and unbrushed teeth, knowing that tomorrow I get to put my two day old clothing back on and still not brush my teeth. And two day old West African clothing is a sticky and smelly prospect.

I hate to bag on the place, you know I love you, but listen to me for a second, I do not have Peace Corps time this time around.

We shall see in what creative ways my hopes and plans get dashed this last week.