This was one of the most frustrating days I’ve had since being in Ghana. So I thought it was worth writing a little story on. Last week my friend Jamie and I took an afternoon to go to one of the markets to get some guitar strings. My D string snapped about 2 weeks ago, so I’ve been itching to restring the guitar since. I told him I knew where one shop was in Madina. Since Madina is the closest market to campus, we hopped on a tro-tro around noon to make what was supposed to be a simple errand. We got off at the station, walked around until we saw the shop. Both of us have nylon string guitars, so nylons were what we were looking for. The owner of this shop said he had steel strings but no nylons. Okay so first attempt doesn’t work. Oh well. He pointed us in the direction of somewhere else that might have had them. After missing the road a couple times, we walked down the street that the shop was supposedly on. We saw a sign for music equipment, but the shop was nothing more than a small shack with some speakers that I’m pretty sure were broken. The guy there wasn’t much help either. We gave up in Madina and tro-tro’d back towards campus. Jamie got off there because he had class, but I stayed on to head into Accra where Makola market is. I was told in the past by people on campus to go to a place called Zungolen (not sure about the spelling but that’s how it sounds) to get guitar equipment. With help from some Ghanaians in the busy market, I found the place and was really excited. I asked for nylon strings, but sure enough, they didn’t have them either. The guy at the desk helped me out though and told me to go to a shop around the corner called Unibex. I went there, and thought I saw the light at the end of the tunnel when I could see stacks of strings against the wall behind the desk. I asked the lady for strings, she showed me what they had, then I asked “do you have any nylon strings? I’m looking for nylon.” She said “Ohhh no. The nylon strings, they are finished.” My heart sank. I asked when she would be getting more nylon strings, but she didn’t know (this didn’t surprise me at all). So I headed back to campus after a wasted afternoon (seriously, this search took around 5 hours). The only thing I can really take from this is that I know my way around Madina and Makola a lot better now.
That day at the markets was not a complete shock, even though it was very disappointing. I’ve learned to expect not being able to get what you’re looking for, especially when it’s something as specific as guitar strings. The market can be fun sometimes, but days like these can be exhausting. There’s just no organization at all, and there’s no telling if a shop will actually have what they advertise. This is especially common in restaurants. Sometimes, only half the menu is really available. I’ll ask for something and they’ll say “Oh, those are finished,” which means they are out of that until they get more, whenever the heck that may be. That phrase has become one of my least favorite things to be told here, but it’s also become an inside joke between all the obroni’s because we hear it so much. I really like getting things from the market usually because I can bargain for the price, but I have grown such an appreciation for the simplicity of driving to the nearest store at home in the US, walking in and looking in the labeled racks, or asking for something, and actually being able to buy it, using a debit card, or if using cash, being able to get change back no matter what size bill I hand them.
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