For over a month now, my mother has told me I should be expecting a package. In Ghana how the postal system works is that all packages (unless very small) are delivered to the main head quarters in Accra. You receive a slip of paper with your name on it and a list of a few items that your package contains.
Well I have yet to receive a package slip for a package that arrived March 9th, so I asked for the tracking number. Thus I went off to the central post office 45 minutes away from campus by tro-tro. When I arrived I had to wait a good 10 minutes before I even get acknowledged as human. The people that run the place are very cold and quite rude. However, I have taken many a trips there and have made my friends. It was not till I saw my older gentlemen friend and lady who loves to speak fluid sentences at me in Twi and I have no idea what she is saying. (Just to understand it wasn’t until I spoke Twi and complimented her a gazillion times that she even turned her twisted face into half a smile… but at least I can say we aren’t enemies.)
Anyways, the only lady I could remember her name (Auntie Caroline) was making herself look quite busy with some paper work. I greeted her and said “Auntie Caroline, How are you?!?” with which she responded … “How do you know my name, who told you?”
I informed her we had met before and she continued with her paperwork for another 10 minutes before listening to what I needed. When I finally told her that I did NOT receive a package slip and that I had the tracking number she informed me that her book with the tracking numbers and locations was accidentally left behind at home. She had brought it home to work on and forgot.
A brief interruption: I forgot to mention a key-role in my trip to the post office. I traveled with my friend Theresa and the porter or lady at the front desk of my dorm. The porters name is Peggy who is a single mother of two in her mid 40’s with the sweetest demeanor ever. However, I learned on this day that Peggy has a hot, fiery, and not-afraid-to –tell-someone-what’s-what attitude.
Continuation …
I was informed that because she did NOT bring her book with her that there was NOTHING she could do to locate my package and that I would have to come back tomorrow. I was upset but realized that it is Ghana and things don’t work the same as back home and as much as it would suck to go back, I would just have to do that. WELL…. Peggy didn’t like that ONE bit.
Peggy was soo upset. (It is very common for Ghanaians to get in heavily heated-arguments to the point where you think there will be fist fights only to end the conversation as if they were best friends) She thought it was crazy that the woman forgot to bring her work book to work. “You don’t just forget things like that and you have to concentrate very hard at remembering,” Peggy stated.
It was at this point when Peggy spoke/yelled in Twi at Auntie Caroline involving a head manager. Peggy told her that she should be fined or fired for such actions as forgetting such an important book.
It was only after this conversation that Auntie Caroline said she would call someone at home to help to look in the book and determine where my package may be. I accidentally wrote down the wrong number so had to wake my boyfriend up at 4am to check the correct tracking number (Sorry :( ). I was off by one digit and hopefully on my way to finding the package.
When I finally had the tracking number sorted out Auntie Caroline told me her phone was dying and that she must use my phone with the credit I have bought on it. She proceeded to call someone and he would call back in ten minutes. Fifteen minutes later he finally called in which Caroline spoke to him until my phone ran out of credit.
She then proceeded to ask for my name and went into the back room for 20 minutes. She finally came out with a package that was in U.S. packaging that held the potential to be mine. It was only when she asked another lady at a different window to come down by her that I KNEW my package had been found.
Next, comes the bargaining. When you get packages at this post office you must provide an I.D. and sign a million forms claiming you are the one picking it up and then you must pay the handling and taxes fee on your package. The fee is determined by how much the items in your package cost. So the lady tells me my package will be 9 cedi. That is more than I have paid for a package double the size of the one I am receiving. It is custom to have to open the package in front of the employees so they can look what you are getting to make sure the slip was accurate. (There is even one lady in particular that likes to snitch/steal food from you, if you have any in your packages. A friend of mine lost a few rice-krispies to this lady!) I told her I never pay more than 5 cedi a package and she gave me an awful look, muttered a few things under her breath and proceeded to fill out the form to tell me how much I actually owed.
In the meanwhile, Peggy is assisting another lady argue about the 150 cedi cost of her package that contained a digital camera. Peggy thinks it’s ridiculous to even have to pay to receive a package. If you receive electronics here, be prepared to pay A LOT of money. You may as well just go and buy the electronics here. Or as my friends have done, hide it in a box of Cheeze-Its.
Of course, while assisting the other lady, she continually made comments about how Auntie Caroline should get a fine.
In the end I got my package that had been sitting in the shelves of the post office for a month in a half for 5.9 cedi. I was handed my change and receipt the fastest I have ever got it before. I said very friendly good-byes as I was fearful that they were all very mad but I wanted to leave a good lasting impression. They were pleasant but Auntie Caroline handed me my receipt and told me “You come back by YOURSELF next time!”
I thought the journey was just about over but Peggy was still a bit fired-up and proceeded to tell us that we just needed to be more “forceful” next time. We informed her we are NOT Ghanaian and if we did act in such a manner, we would get ignored for longer even probably told to leave. She was again, shocked to hear this.
Then as we were finally leaving she got the attention of the manager again and told him a piece of her mind about the service and what improvements should be made. In particular, she thought it was nuts that you could bargain on the price of a package and instead there should just be a fixed price.
Overall, it was a success if not for the help of wonder-woman Peggy of whom I will be getting Ghanaian food cooking lessons from tomorrow.
More to come, only 16 days remaining!
~Stacie~
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Night Market
Well, it’s officially reaching the end of my trip here in Ghana and man it’s been a dream!
24 days and continually flying by …
Last Friday was the last actual lecture I will have here. The university gives you a week off and then exams start the 26th through May 16th. I have one the 29th, … and last one is the 11th. I am fairly nervous about my exams. They are on the entire semester and we haven’t even so much as had a quiz on any material. Thus, this leaves the exam very broad and open-ended. Also, for my African Literature class we are supposed to complete three exam essays within an allotted time limit of three hours. I hate writing essays and the questions we will have to answer are going to be ones that I could answer in a paragraph and be done in ten minutes. So overall, it should be an interesting experience.
However, today I am going to write about the “Night-market.” I should’ve explained this within the first week I have been here. So the “Night-market” is the place I go to get food every day that is a block from my dorm. It runs all day long so it being called a “night” market is just its name. It is open until 10pm on the weekdays and midnight on the weekends. There are about 15-20 stalls that sell a variety of food and supplies. There are the stalls that sell buckets, locks, packaged cookies & crackers, sandals … you name it. These same stalls also normally sell bread and egg-sandwiches. The egg-sandwiches were good at first but now are quite OLD. But they are convenient to grab on your way to class and are more catered to the international crowd.
Then there are the “whatever-you-want-thrown-in-a-bowl” stands. You start off ordering rice and you order it in the amount of how much you want to pay, not by scoops. The lowest you can go is 50 pesawas (change) and I normally can never finish that amount. Then you proceed to add, either, noodles, salad, coleslaw, plantain, meat, sausage, chicken, or gari (a powder-like filler) on top of your rice. It’s finished off with spicy sauce on top. When I first got here I thought the sauce was the hottest I have ever had. Now, I find myself asking for more and more sauce.
Behind the stands are numerous tables that you can sit at. There is water and towels for you to clean your hands with before you eat. I actually never do that because I always eat with a spoon. There are certain food items and certain times people just eat with their hands. When you go to the market at night the stands with the food are lit up but the places behind that you eat at only have the glimmer of light radiating from the stands. Basically, you eat your bowl of random things in the dark. For the first month I was here I would always use a flashlight to see what I was eating to make-sure no bugs were in my food. I have since gotten over my fears.
Then there are the more traditional stands that sell either Fufu or Banku. This type of food is a ball of dough placed in the center of a bowl that is surrounded by soup. They are many choices in soups that you can order. Both of these foods are eaten solely with your fingers.
The Fufu is a doughy substance that traditionally is supposed to be swallowed and not chewed. I however can NOT manage this task and continually have a gag-reflex every time I swallow a small bit of dough. I have only had Fufu once and never cared to try it again. The dough itself had no flavor and was a smooth texture like pizza-dough. A local Ghanaian was enjoying watching me try to rip pieces of this slimy dough apart. He was trying to show me the proper way to eat it, as I was failing miserably. I couldn’t manage to rip pieces off accurately. When I ate it, it was served in pepper soup. The pepper soup was sooo hot my eyes instantly teared-up. Thus,I left quite a bit behind. There are other types of soups you can order.
Groundnut soup is by far my most favorite. Groundnut is the same thing as peanuts, so groundnut soup is peanut-butter like soup. Banku is served in the same fashion as Fufu. However, Banku actually has a sweet taste to the dough and is a different kind of consistency, more like cookie-dough.
These stands that sell Fufu and Banku make the food that very day and can be watched. It is amazing to see the strong men with their huge biceps take a very long piece of wood and mash up the casava to create these dishes. At the same time a woman is using her hands in between lifting the “masher” to gather and condense the dough. They call it pounding Fufu or Banku. In some of the villages/towns we have visited locals will invite you to help pound the Fufu.
Also, on a quick side note … A common phrase here is “You’re invited!” This means that the locals are telling you that you are more than welcome to come and eat their food with them. Normally, this means from the same bowl that they are eating with their hands from. I have never once taken up on their offers. However, it has become a joke between local ISEP friends and I because the concept of sharing the same sandwich you took a bite out of, seems a bit crazy. They also often ask to be invited to your food. However, they ask and we say yes but no one I have met has been serious enough to sit down.
Outside of these stands there are other random ones. Some serve yam chips that are served with a hot sauce. The yam chips just taste like large fried potatoes. There is a kabob stand that serves, chicken, beef or veggie kabobs. My most favorite stand is one that serves my favorite food called Red-Red. This type of food is beans served in a thick stew with Gari ( a powder like filler) that is accompanied with fried plantains. I practically eat this EVERY day. Not that there is much variety here.
Other stands sell vegetables, and the best tasting and cheapest fruit you will ever find. I love the pineapples and mangos. In American prices, it is like 0.75 cents for a whole fresh pineapple that is cut-up in front of you. It’s like heaven!
The sad part of this booming community is that the people who work in these stands live, breathe, and eat in their same four-by four stall. They sleep overnight on the cement ground in their stalls only to wake-up early every morning and meet the demanding needs of others. I personally have become good friends with a few of the vendors. I am sure that they never get close to any of the international students who come and leave constantly every semester. But they get a large flow and good business from them considering that their stalls are right outside the “International Student Dorms.”
The vendors who I have got to know each have their own story. It is Linda who is the pineapple lady that works with her older mother selling fruit but gives the best prices. It is the Laruba sisters (one who is delightful, and other who has had better days) who try to charge ridiculous prices to the foreigners. It is Henry who is always smiling, telling me I am his faithful customer when I buy bread. Then there is most delightful always smiling Vivian. She is the most commonly known to all, for her fast and delicious egg/veggie sandwiches. Her dilemma involves not only her arthritis in her back but, trying to send her 18 year old daughter to college when she only manages to sell egg sandwiches at a set standard of 0.65 pesawas a day (about 45 American cents). Also, she attends to her two other children, adorable little Lisa and her timid middle son. My heart goes out to these people who day after day scrape together the smallest amount of change in hopes for a better tomorrow, a better future.
So my thoughts are left here … We complain about the increasing prices of food that are still by far affordable for most. BUT do we ever stop to think about those who go all day living off 5 dollars a day to feed their whole family. Not to mention, all the other necessities that go into daily living especially the chance in rising above this poverty that lives in educating their children. Unfortunately, only to end a long days work, by closing their eyes and resting their heads on the dirty, cement pavement hoping and praying for a miracle of a few more cents tomorrow.
~Stacie~
24 days and continually flying by …
Last Friday was the last actual lecture I will have here. The university gives you a week off and then exams start the 26th through May 16th. I have one the 29th, … and last one is the 11th. I am fairly nervous about my exams. They are on the entire semester and we haven’t even so much as had a quiz on any material. Thus, this leaves the exam very broad and open-ended. Also, for my African Literature class we are supposed to complete three exam essays within an allotted time limit of three hours. I hate writing essays and the questions we will have to answer are going to be ones that I could answer in a paragraph and be done in ten minutes. So overall, it should be an interesting experience.
However, today I am going to write about the “Night-market.” I should’ve explained this within the first week I have been here. So the “Night-market” is the place I go to get food every day that is a block from my dorm. It runs all day long so it being called a “night” market is just its name. It is open until 10pm on the weekdays and midnight on the weekends. There are about 15-20 stalls that sell a variety of food and supplies. There are the stalls that sell buckets, locks, packaged cookies & crackers, sandals … you name it. These same stalls also normally sell bread and egg-sandwiches. The egg-sandwiches were good at first but now are quite OLD. But they are convenient to grab on your way to class and are more catered to the international crowd.
Then there are the “whatever-you-want-thrown-in-a-bowl” stands. You start off ordering rice and you order it in the amount of how much you want to pay, not by scoops. The lowest you can go is 50 pesawas (change) and I normally can never finish that amount. Then you proceed to add, either, noodles, salad, coleslaw, plantain, meat, sausage, chicken, or gari (a powder-like filler) on top of your rice. It’s finished off with spicy sauce on top. When I first got here I thought the sauce was the hottest I have ever had. Now, I find myself asking for more and more sauce.
Behind the stands are numerous tables that you can sit at. There is water and towels for you to clean your hands with before you eat. I actually never do that because I always eat with a spoon. There are certain food items and certain times people just eat with their hands. When you go to the market at night the stands with the food are lit up but the places behind that you eat at only have the glimmer of light radiating from the stands. Basically, you eat your bowl of random things in the dark. For the first month I was here I would always use a flashlight to see what I was eating to make-sure no bugs were in my food. I have since gotten over my fears.
Then there are the more traditional stands that sell either Fufu or Banku. This type of food is a ball of dough placed in the center of a bowl that is surrounded by soup. They are many choices in soups that you can order. Both of these foods are eaten solely with your fingers.
The Fufu is a doughy substance that traditionally is supposed to be swallowed and not chewed. I however can NOT manage this task and continually have a gag-reflex every time I swallow a small bit of dough. I have only had Fufu once and never cared to try it again. The dough itself had no flavor and was a smooth texture like pizza-dough. A local Ghanaian was enjoying watching me try to rip pieces of this slimy dough apart. He was trying to show me the proper way to eat it, as I was failing miserably. I couldn’t manage to rip pieces off accurately. When I ate it, it was served in pepper soup. The pepper soup was sooo hot my eyes instantly teared-up. Thus,I left quite a bit behind. There are other types of soups you can order.
Groundnut soup is by far my most favorite. Groundnut is the same thing as peanuts, so groundnut soup is peanut-butter like soup. Banku is served in the same fashion as Fufu. However, Banku actually has a sweet taste to the dough and is a different kind of consistency, more like cookie-dough.
These stands that sell Fufu and Banku make the food that very day and can be watched. It is amazing to see the strong men with their huge biceps take a very long piece of wood and mash up the casava to create these dishes. At the same time a woman is using her hands in between lifting the “masher” to gather and condense the dough. They call it pounding Fufu or Banku. In some of the villages/towns we have visited locals will invite you to help pound the Fufu.
Also, on a quick side note … A common phrase here is “You’re invited!” This means that the locals are telling you that you are more than welcome to come and eat their food with them. Normally, this means from the same bowl that they are eating with their hands from. I have never once taken up on their offers. However, it has become a joke between local ISEP friends and I because the concept of sharing the same sandwich you took a bite out of, seems a bit crazy. They also often ask to be invited to your food. However, they ask and we say yes but no one I have met has been serious enough to sit down.
Outside of these stands there are other random ones. Some serve yam chips that are served with a hot sauce. The yam chips just taste like large fried potatoes. There is a kabob stand that serves, chicken, beef or veggie kabobs. My most favorite stand is one that serves my favorite food called Red-Red. This type of food is beans served in a thick stew with Gari ( a powder like filler) that is accompanied with fried plantains. I practically eat this EVERY day. Not that there is much variety here.
Other stands sell vegetables, and the best tasting and cheapest fruit you will ever find. I love the pineapples and mangos. In American prices, it is like 0.75 cents for a whole fresh pineapple that is cut-up in front of you. It’s like heaven!
The sad part of this booming community is that the people who work in these stands live, breathe, and eat in their same four-by four stall. They sleep overnight on the cement ground in their stalls only to wake-up early every morning and meet the demanding needs of others. I personally have become good friends with a few of the vendors. I am sure that they never get close to any of the international students who come and leave constantly every semester. But they get a large flow and good business from them considering that their stalls are right outside the “International Student Dorms.”
The vendors who I have got to know each have their own story. It is Linda who is the pineapple lady that works with her older mother selling fruit but gives the best prices. It is the Laruba sisters (one who is delightful, and other who has had better days) who try to charge ridiculous prices to the foreigners. It is Henry who is always smiling, telling me I am his faithful customer when I buy bread. Then there is most delightful always smiling Vivian. She is the most commonly known to all, for her fast and delicious egg/veggie sandwiches. Her dilemma involves not only her arthritis in her back but, trying to send her 18 year old daughter to college when she only manages to sell egg sandwiches at a set standard of 0.65 pesawas a day (about 45 American cents). Also, she attends to her two other children, adorable little Lisa and her timid middle son. My heart goes out to these people who day after day scrape together the smallest amount of change in hopes for a better tomorrow, a better future.
So my thoughts are left here … We complain about the increasing prices of food that are still by far affordable for most. BUT do we ever stop to think about those who go all day living off 5 dollars a day to feed their whole family. Not to mention, all the other necessities that go into daily living especially the chance in rising above this poverty that lives in educating their children. Unfortunately, only to end a long days work, by closing their eyes and resting their heads on the dirty, cement pavement hoping and praying for a miracle of a few more cents tomorrow.
~Stacie~
Monday, April 12, 2010
Bead Factory and 1st Ghana Cocoa Farm
This weekend we went to a bead factory in Somanya in the eastern region where they make traditional Krobo African beads. The place we visited was called Cedi Bead Factory named after the creator “Cedi”. These African beads are very important in traditional culture. They are used as a symbol of family status and used on special occasions especially during the “coming of age” ceremonies held in April and May.
We got to walk step-by-step through the entire process of making a bead. It was amazing to see how much work goes into making beads.
You first start off by making the molds, which are made from hard clay found in the bottom of rivers. These molds have indents of the type of bead you are trying to create. Depending on the size of the beads, you can have between 10- 30 holes per mold. The next step is to crush the glass into very fine powder. They use all sorts of glass bottles. Red and blue are the rarest type to find. Next, you pour the desired color (even alternating colors) that you want into the mold. Then, it’s off to fire the molds in ovens that are made out of termite mounds. Once they are done in the ovens, holes are poked into the glass with Cassava stems (a type of root commonly cooked and eaten here). They are then cooled and washed with water. After they are dried some are painted, only to be fired again. When the process is all over, they are given to women who string them.
The final product is necklaces, bracelets, and waist beads. Waist beads are a common old tradition. They are small thin strands of beads in many colors and are worn by females on their waists. These beads are only supposed to be seen by their husbands. They are thought to be “sexy.”They start off worn on babies to measure the amount of weight they are gaining to make sure they are healthy. They have become less common as time has gone on, but are coming back into style being worn on ankles, wrists and even around the neck.
In the end, there was a small shop filled with the different assortment of beads strung in many different ways. The owner gave us each a “free gift” after we had made our purchases. I got a blue, yellow, and white bracelet as my free gift.
Next, we went on to Mampong to the first cocoa farm in Ghana. We toured the plantation. The most interesting thing about cocoa was how it grows. Cocoa starts off on pods that look like fruit. The pods grow on trees, however not like normal fruit that comes off branches; these grow right off the trunks of the tree. The reason for this is that the cocoa only grows where it is shaded. And there are leaves that sprout from the trunks and thus the pods grow in that spot. Sometimes, they grow on the branches but normally they have to be protected from the sun.
We all got to harvest the cocoa. There is long pole with a sharp hook on the end that reaches up to the tops of the trunk and to the high shaded branches above that yield the cocoa pods. So we took turns cutting down the cocoa pods from the towering trees. Once they are down, you gather them and cut them open. When you cut them open, it’s contains white, slimy, mushy seeds. It is common here to suck on the insides until the flavor is gone and spit them out. It tastes very sweet, almost like a mango.
Once they are cut open, the next step is to place the insides on leaves and cover them for about 3 days. After 3 days you uncover the leaves, and place them in a drying rack in the sun. About a week later they turn into little brown “coffee-like” seeds. Finally ready to be sold off.
The final process is packing the brown seeds into sacks and selling them. Here in Ghana, when it comes time to selling they have no choice but by law, must sell their produce to the government. Then the government turns around and sells it to the market (cocoa companies). It seems like that in itself, is the biggest problem that cocoa farmers have. It is impossible for these farmers to ever make more profit than the set price. They have no choice or input on the price other than what the government gives them.
Thus in turn, many of the farmers/producers have started a smuggling process to Ivory Coast. As a result, about 6% of Ghana’s production is smuggled. The reason for the smuggling is that Ivory Coast provides better prices and the money exchange rate is much higher therefore overall, there is much profit to be received.
Other than the corrupt system of price-fixing , I was upset … that there wasn’t just simple Hershey bars on the tree. Instead it took many long months to finally get the end product. What’s more, they didn’t even have real chocolate at the end of the tour to taste!! Although, we did get to try one of the brown “coffee-like” seeds and it tasted very rich and dark with NO sugar.
I learned a lot and have come to respect the long journey of chocolate making. I guess this just gives me more reason to eat more of the HORRIBLE tasting chocolate ... I just don’t know how I am going to survive (poor girl!).
Well, when Matt visited he brought me some Cadbury chocolate eggs…
… Hell I guess Ill force myself to eat some more!
*****Miss everyone, ONLY one month till I am home!*****
~Stacie~
We got to walk step-by-step through the entire process of making a bead. It was amazing to see how much work goes into making beads.
You first start off by making the molds, which are made from hard clay found in the bottom of rivers. These molds have indents of the type of bead you are trying to create. Depending on the size of the beads, you can have between 10- 30 holes per mold. The next step is to crush the glass into very fine powder. They use all sorts of glass bottles. Red and blue are the rarest type to find. Next, you pour the desired color (even alternating colors) that you want into the mold. Then, it’s off to fire the molds in ovens that are made out of termite mounds. Once they are done in the ovens, holes are poked into the glass with Cassava stems (a type of root commonly cooked and eaten here). They are then cooled and washed with water. After they are dried some are painted, only to be fired again. When the process is all over, they are given to women who string them.
The final product is necklaces, bracelets, and waist beads. Waist beads are a common old tradition. They are small thin strands of beads in many colors and are worn by females on their waists. These beads are only supposed to be seen by their husbands. They are thought to be “sexy.”They start off worn on babies to measure the amount of weight they are gaining to make sure they are healthy. They have become less common as time has gone on, but are coming back into style being worn on ankles, wrists and even around the neck.
In the end, there was a small shop filled with the different assortment of beads strung in many different ways. The owner gave us each a “free gift” after we had made our purchases. I got a blue, yellow, and white bracelet as my free gift.
Next, we went on to Mampong to the first cocoa farm in Ghana. We toured the plantation. The most interesting thing about cocoa was how it grows. Cocoa starts off on pods that look like fruit. The pods grow on trees, however not like normal fruit that comes off branches; these grow right off the trunks of the tree. The reason for this is that the cocoa only grows where it is shaded. And there are leaves that sprout from the trunks and thus the pods grow in that spot. Sometimes, they grow on the branches but normally they have to be protected from the sun.
We all got to harvest the cocoa. There is long pole with a sharp hook on the end that reaches up to the tops of the trunk and to the high shaded branches above that yield the cocoa pods. So we took turns cutting down the cocoa pods from the towering trees. Once they are down, you gather them and cut them open. When you cut them open, it’s contains white, slimy, mushy seeds. It is common here to suck on the insides until the flavor is gone and spit them out. It tastes very sweet, almost like a mango.
Once they are cut open, the next step is to place the insides on leaves and cover them for about 3 days. After 3 days you uncover the leaves, and place them in a drying rack in the sun. About a week later they turn into little brown “coffee-like” seeds. Finally ready to be sold off.
The final process is packing the brown seeds into sacks and selling them. Here in Ghana, when it comes time to selling they have no choice but by law, must sell their produce to the government. Then the government turns around and sells it to the market (cocoa companies). It seems like that in itself, is the biggest problem that cocoa farmers have. It is impossible for these farmers to ever make more profit than the set price. They have no choice or input on the price other than what the government gives them.
Thus in turn, many of the farmers/producers have started a smuggling process to Ivory Coast. As a result, about 6% of Ghana’s production is smuggled. The reason for the smuggling is that Ivory Coast provides better prices and the money exchange rate is much higher therefore overall, there is much profit to be received.
Other than the corrupt system of price-fixing , I was upset … that there wasn’t just simple Hershey bars on the tree. Instead it took many long months to finally get the end product. What’s more, they didn’t even have real chocolate at the end of the tour to taste!! Although, we did get to try one of the brown “coffee-like” seeds and it tasted very rich and dark with NO sugar.
I learned a lot and have come to respect the long journey of chocolate making. I guess this just gives me more reason to eat more of the HORRIBLE tasting chocolate ... I just don’t know how I am going to survive (poor girl!).
Well, when Matt visited he brought me some Cadbury chocolate eggs…
… Hell I guess Ill force myself to eat some more!
*****Miss everyone, ONLY one month till I am home!*****
~Stacie~
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