Front Porch on a Summer Evening

Its 6:10pm on Friday, its about 85 degrees with a slight breeze. I’m sitting on a wicker couch with throw pillows eating short bread “Munchee Biscuits.” Today was the first time all week I got back in from the field before 5:00 (it’s the start of a 3-day weekend here) so I kicked off my Chaco’s and was thumbing through a Ghana travel book. I dozed off to the street noise below; funny it used to be overwhelming now its lulling. From my vantage of our second story store front the noise is composed of radios from surrounding street vendors, drums from the nearby church, children playing in the courtyard on the other side of our building, and car horns from every vehicle navigating the obstacle course of pedestrians, bikes, parked taxis, and random animals crossing the street. Oh, and the truck engine-screams of insane drivers who haven’t realized they’re in Africa and just-in-time delivery does not exist. Anyway, the important thing was that when I woke up I and realized how relaxed I was looking at the green jungle hillsides—hazy from all the smoke and car exhaust—I remembered, oh, this is what summer nights feel like, now about the pool...