Besides, there are many things left for me to see and do here in Ghana, especially since I am now fairly well adjusted and comfortable with operating here.

In fact, I am somewhat worried about adjusting back to American life, and I'm convinced that the culture shock of my homecoming will be more severe than when I arrived in Ghana.

Perhaps my favorite aspect of life here is the apparent chaos and disorganization of how everything functions here. In the States, busses operate on relatively strict schedules, and all vehicles are assigned specific routes.

Furthermore, bus stops come complete with a sign informing passengers of when to expect their next ride. Also, most streets are named and carry signs that exhibit this fact.

Here in Ghana, it takes a certain amount of trial and error as well as the helping hands of a few accommodating Ghanaians to figure out where you're going. Even the simple task of understanding exactly what route the mate is shouting for took some work.

Figuring out the names of the bus stops is also tricky, when I consider that very few have posted names and that I still have trouble correctly pronouncing many.

The uncertainty of when the right tro tro is going to arrive has both tested and strengthened my patience.

That being said, I am sad to be leaving so soon after figuring out the system enough to move about the city with relative confidence. I had a story idea of being the mate for a day, but the task still seems far too overwhelming for me at this point. Maybe when I return some day.

Riding the tro tros has also given me a good idea of Accra's layout. I am certain that I am more familiar with Accra than I am with Portland, the largest city in my home state of Oregon that is a mere two-hour trip from where I live and a place I have visited countless times.

On a recent trip to Makola Market, two of my roommates were looking for cigarettes. From my previous two visits, I remembered a stall that carried a decent selection, though it was not located near anything related to tobacco. A Ghanaian friend of ours started leading us in the wrong direction, so I suggested that we head in a different one. Somewhat annoyed, he said that maybe I should lead the way.

I should clarify that I have a dismal sense of direction. The locations of many places I have visited numerous times still elude me. Regardless, I led them to the hidden treasure they sought after only a brief walk down the wrong alley.

This triumph of navigation was a magnificent exception in my long history of wrong turns and wasted petrol. Small as it was, this victory is one I will remember fondly the rest of my life. Thanks Ghana!

The organized chaos of Ghanaian life extends into the act of driving as well, though I have not and most likely will not have that pleasure before I leave. Underneath the apparent disorganization I have observed a certain protocol, however.

It seems that after waiting at a naked junction for a certain period of time, it is okay to simply nudge one's way into traffic, creating an opening to proceed. While clothing said junctions with traffic lights or stop signs would probably make things more efficient, I have to say it would be sad to see the extinction of kente automobile weaving.

I will miss sitting in a junction criss-crossed with cars, listening to the cacophony of yelling drivers and blaring horns.

One part of life here than I still have not adjusted to is the absurd time that banks close. The 3 p.m. closing time makes it impossible for those with jobs to run errands after work. This results in a lackadaisical approach to work that I feel economically hurts the country. Keep in mind that I have very little knowledge of social and political sciences as well as economics, so take my previous and proceeding statements with a sizable grain of salt.

Ghanaian life is an interesting blend of the modernity with tradition. I like the fact that Fridays are African Wear days, and I am still happy that I have yet to see a McDonald's here. That being said, from my conversations with Ghanaians, there seems to be a romantic idea of America and its citizens.

As another former British colony with over four times the post-colonial history, the U.S. is a natural place to look up to. I think that the perception most Ghanaians have of Americans is skewed, however, as only certain types of Americans come to Ghana in the first place. Ghanaians seem to have a great interest in international news, politics, and history.

I believe this interest stems from the relatively recent independence of Ghana. Americans (and I'm speaking in perhaps over-generalized terms) have become complacent after years of relative stability and prosperity and are more concerned with celebrity gossip than with the state of their country. I for one cannot exclude myself entirely from this categorization, though I'd like to think I'm better than average (don't we all?).

Pre-collegiate public education teaches American students very little about the histories and cultures of other countries unless we bombed them. Even Ghana, with its strong tie to slavery in the West, remains virtually unknown to the average American. American misconceptions of Africa also dwarf the misconceptions of Americans that I have observed here.

The most absurd thing I have ever heard came from a good friend of mine who recently joined the military and is scheduled to depart for Afghanistan at the end of the year. He thought it was an unsafe idea for me to visit Ghana. Apparently meeting with Afghani warlords as a member of the U.S. Army is far more sane than walking the frighteningly mean streets of Accra.

Despite the worldly knowledge of Ghanaians I've encountered, I still worry about Ghana's future. While it seems to be improving, the heavy reliance on exporting raw materials and importing finished goods is hindering this advancement.

Dr. Michael Williams in the Sociology Department at the Legon Campus feels strongly about this, so I can't pretend to take credit for arriving at this conclusion myself, though my observations have reinforced this idea.

This neo-mercantilism is in effect making Ghana an unofficial colony of the West and China. It makes absolutely no sense to eat rice and chicken imported from the States, and I urge Ghanaians to ignore the numerous billboards that advocate this consumption.

The media is also crucial in improving Ghana. While there is a great deal of media pluralism, the reliance of poorly-paid journalists on "transportation money" seriously hurts objectivity. Of course, there is no easy solution to ending this facet of journalistic culture.

This reliance stems from economic issues. If the economy improves, media houses will earn more revenue; with more revenue, media houses can increase journalists' pay; increased pay will decrease the reliance on transportation money known in Ghanaian parlance as soli, meaning solidarity. Economic improvements would also afford journalists more tools and resources.

The difficulty in securing interviews and obtaining responses from potential interviewees is also hurting journalism by increasing the reliance on the GNA and reinforcing the practice of regurgitating press releases and speech transcripts with no critical analysis.

Because I opted to rant about my observations instead of performing standard reporting work, I have only one first-hand experience with this phenomenon, though my colleagues interested in reporting have shared their numerous frustrations with me.

I had the idea of writing an update on the current relationship between the tro tros and the busses that were introduced in 2002. I looked through old newspapers from the time to get a sense of what the public transportation climate was when the busses were new, but I wanted current information. I have yet to hear back from the Ministry of Roads and Transport nearly three weeks after I sent the e-mail.

Granted, I haven't been very diligent in following up, but I at least expected an automated response thanking me for my inquiry and informing me of a time frame in which to expect a response. I am fairly certain I will hear back from them after returning to the States.

I have three mosquito bites on my left index finger, and even this short amount of typing has caused my finger to swell to the size of a delicious sausage; so I will conclude my tirade.

I am interested in hearing what readers think about my opinions, so please e-mail me your comments and questions at . Oh, and I'm still waiting for those Red - Red recipes.