The sun is setting on my first full workweek and it feels good. Around 5:30 it starts to get a little cooler and here in Labadi there is a breeze from the ocean which, with the aid of the ceiling fan on maximum level 5, actually pushes me over the edge from tolerable to comfortable. I think the music has something to do with it, though.

I came here with a beautiful 12-outlet surge protector thanks to Mom, and I managed to blow it out within two seconds (literally) of plugging it in. As an aside, always check whether your new “voltage converter” is also an wattage amplifier. And if it’s rated for 1200W or more, don’t plug anything into it besides some ridiculous hairdryer; or else your shiny new grey surge protector will make a loud POP and you’ll start swearing. When I finished swearing I began to think about replacement and quickly discovered that, in Accra, “quality” is separated from “electronics” by a huge chaos of junky plastic and wire called “China”. But perseverance paid off and I found a surge protector closer to the “quality” side and crossed my fingers and plugged everything in and minutes later I was falling asleep to Daniel Barenboim playing Chopin nocturnes. And since then (knock wood) I have not passed many minutes in my room without an aural elixir.

At the moment it’s the David Grisman Quintet and it makes everything a little nicer. A lot nicer.

The learning curve at work is steep and a little scary but also exhilarating. With the help of a couple Tufts students studying abroad in Accra, we have defined 15 markets comprising over 1000 businesses and have at least attempted to administer around 80 surveys. Also this week has transported me back to the mathematical universe: we have a piece of statistical software that helps to design cluster randomized trials (of which our interest rate sensitivity study is one), and although it does crank out some really pretty graphs, they’re entirely unintelligible without some basic understanding of statistics. So I sharpened my pencil and hit the books (that is, the 200-page manual for the program, which contains a kind of introduction to stats). It is embarrassingly fun and refreshing to scribble nonsense Greek letters and try to derive simple equations. So now the graphs are starting to make sense, and slowly the powerful beam of mathematical clarity is illuminating the treacherous terrain of our study and its potential to produce meaningful results. Hopefully we can gain some footing soon.

While I have been scratching out square roots with my pencil, across the office Stanley has been doodling. Stanley is one of the National Service Personnel currently employed at Opportunity International. Every Ghanaian who attends university is required to serve one year through the National Service program, which places him at a government agency, a school, or, if there are some left over, a business. This year there was an excess and so it is that Stanley has a desk and a chair but no real assignment, since he has not yet been trained by OI. So until he goes to Kumasi to complete the two-week training program he has agreed to help me out.

Yesterday we went out in the morning so he could take the reins on the survey process (that he speaks English and Twi is more than a little helpful) and maybe also the project of defining markets. I think it’s the first time I have been a delegator and an instructor in a business setting and it’s a little awkward to tell him what to do. He’s more of an expert than I am as far as Ghanaian business practices are concerned, and is probably equally a non-expert in the science of surveys. But we’re making a go of it. If it proves to be a truly African arrangement, he’ll leave for OI training as soon as he gets really good at conducting surveys.

In other news, I went to Peter’s house again to give him some information on community banks in Accra. This time there was much less fanfare and Peter was decidedly sedate. I think his coolness might have been due to the fact that I interrupted TV time. When I walked in he, Emilia, and three other men were sitting silently around the inner room in the glow of the set and the spinning multicolor light. They were watching a South African soap opera called “Generations” which seemed a lot like US soaps, except that it depicts both black social circles and white ones that rarely intersect. This way they can retain a multicolored audience.

Peter spoke slowly and quietly, and didn’t try to start conversation, although he still did radiate confidence and kindness. When I asked how his business (of renting apartments) was going, he described his newest plan: to open a snack bar by the road. Using his fryer (I don’t remember whether I mentioned that before—it is a plug-in, self-contained deal that also serves as a conversation piece in the living room) he plans to turn out samosas and spring rolls along with the usual Ghanaian fare (fou-fou, banku, kelewele). I assured him that his would be the only snack bar offering such a variety of foods and that I’d be there on opening day to try all of them. NB: this time there was no water-sharing ritual.

Finally, I had my taste of home last night when Justin and Matt (American, big wheel at OI) and I ate dinner at Champs, the sports bar at the ritzy Paloma Hotel. Inside is pool tables, a dart board, big screen TVs, various jerseys hanging from the ceiling, and even a sports-themed menu (“Sandwedges” instead of sandwiches, etc.). Also, true to US sports bar form, the food was mediocre at best. It’s funny the way that one extraneous ingredient can turn an otherwise good attempt at a particular cuisine into a complete joke. In the case of my chicken fajita salad, that ingredient was cucumber-dill salad. Luckily we hadn’t come for the meal, but for the beer and trivia contest. But the rest of the night was a success, as we won trivia (to the tune of 300,000 cedis = $35, which paid for a big dinner and a bunch of beer). Unfortunately, the winning trivia team is responsible for the following week’s trivia challenge. So we’ll have to return to Champ’s at least one more time. The good news: last week’s winners drink free.

Thanks for all the emails and pictures. It is great to hear from all of you. Keep me posted on goings on stateside and elsewhere, and be well. Love, Jake.