Two interesting things happened to me today that was worth
to make a blog post about: Penis enlargement and racial profiling Dickhead. These
two things don’t, and wouldn’t, have anything to do with each other in term of
relevance, except that they both happened to me today.
First, penis enlargement. (Quotes are 90% accurate on the account that
my short term memory isn’t great, but I tried my best to remember and recall
every single juice details).
I hitched a ride with a friend into the main road. It’s
normally is a five minute ride, and I often make random chit chattery just to
kill the time. Before we started, he got a phone call. Lots of laughs took place.
After he hung up, he casually explained to me the nature of the call, as you or
I would do when you are with company after a phone call.
Friend: “My brother was just calling because he wants to
increase the size of his penis.”
Me: “Hmm…wow that is…
is that possible here?”
Friend: “No, it’s not. He wanted to know if he could use
some herbs to increase the size, but you cannot. His wife is complaining that
she does not feel him when he goes in. She gave birth sometime ago. And I said,
eh, that the wife should go to the clinic, there is medicine for her, but not
for him.”
Me: “Well, it’s understandable that after she gives birth,
she might… Medicine for her? What kind of medicine? To reduce the size of her
vagina?”
Friend: “There are some medicines for the lady, after they
give birth, you know, because of whatever reason, or she doesn’t sit correctly
after the birth, that she could insert inside to reduce the size, so the man
can feel when he goes in. So I said, he can’t increase his size, but she can go
and get the medication. For me, eh, after my wife gave birth, I complained
because I didn’t feel when going in, and she got the medication and inserted.”
Me: “And now you are fine?”
Friend: “Yes, now we are fine. “
Me: “Well, that’s good. I think if there is really a way to
enlarge the penis, I think everyone would do it already.”
Friend: “Well, my own is not big, but I know what to do with
it. If a lady complains that mine is small, then she should also try to reduce
the size of her own (vagina) to fit me. Some women, eh, they do it too much,
and then it would pain them when the man goes in.”
Me: “Do what too much? Use too much of the medicine”
Friend: “Yes, inserting the medicine too much. Like if you
only need to insert 2 or 3 times a month, and they do it 5 or 6 times, the size
is reduced too small, and the man will pain her when he goes in.”
Me: “So they overdose.”
Friend: “Yes, you have to play with the lady before. African
men, some of us don’t know how to play with the lady and just go in. You have
to play with the lady so you don’t pain her.”
Then the conversation took an awkward turn when he started
talking about his sort of mistress, and we reached the road when I had to catch
a car.
Some days, I literally wear dirty sacks as clothes and still
get hit on left and right with marriage proposals. Some other days, I am virtually
a sexless creature for projection of sex stories, but maybe this has nothing to
do with my ping-pong sex appeal and more to do with trust and integration? I
would like to think so.
I also think that I learned something super valuable today.
Did everyone know about a pill that you can insert to shrink your vaginal wall?
What? I for sure did not. That feels as safe as a pill that enlarges your
penis. Never mind, I actually don’t know how I feel about all of this. Give me
a feel years to think about it.
Second, Dickhead.
Then I took a trotro to Wa, looking forward to some
electricity and internet time, but before I quite made it to my destination of
both, a car pulled up to me on the street and a man waved for me to come over. As
a personal rule in Ghana, I don’t submit to summons, since that is a Ghanaian
habit that I find rude and annoying. I promptly ignored the man, even as he
sent a street seller to tell me to come over. Yeah right, dude. Finally, he got
out of his car and walked over to me. I’m just going to go ahead and call him Dickhead.
Dickead: “Can you read?” And showed me his I.D. It said “something
something Immigration Office.”
Me: “Yes, okay? What can I do for you?”
Dickhead: “Who are you with?”
Me: “American Peace Corps. Do you know it?”
Dickhead: “Yes, I know most of the Peace Corps workers. But
I haven’t seen you.”
Me: “Well, maybe because I live in the village, but I have
been here for two years.”
Dickhead: “Have you come to our office?”
Me: “No. I never needed to.”
Dickhead: “Do you have the paper work to be here?”
Me: “I don’t have anything with me right now.”
Dickhead: “Bring them to my office tomorrow.”
Me: “Uh… that’s not going to happen.” Dialed Peace Corps.
So today was a Sunday, and I went to Wa to spend the night so
I could go to another PCV’s site for a program early Monday morning. I had no
desire or intention to return to my site for my “paper work” and decided to
call my Safety and Security Officer instead. While I waited for my SSO to talk
to Dickhead on the phone, I realized two things.
1.
I am awfully arrogant against Ghanaian authority
under America’s auspice.
2.
I was being racial profile as an attempt to get
a bribe.
The first one is a natural Fight or Flight response. In time
of possible harassment, I mostly Fight, because I know that they are in the
wrong, and I am stupidly stubborn in the face of danger or challenges. In this situation,
I knew that I did nothing wrong, and Peace Corps would have an answer for
whatever questions are being thrown at me. Dickhead was in plain clothes, and
to me, did not look like the kind of guy who would work on a weekday, let alone
a weekend, so for him to do actually do his job and question a “questionable
character” without any interior motive was obvious not plausible. He wanted to intimidate
me, and honestly it wasn’t his fault that men of any size don’t scare me,
especially sleazy ass mother fucker. I even enjoyed it a little bit when I handed
him my phone so that my SSO could talk to him about me and my reasons for being
in Ghana.
The second realization was a lot more obvious. I am Asian.
To 99 percents of Ghanaians, I am Chinese. Within recent time, there has been a
lot of problem in Ghana concerning illegal Chinese immigrants doing illegal
gold mining. Despite Chinese engineers building roads throughout Ghana and
business men all over the street of Accra, in general, the Chinese don’t receive
very good receptions from locals. People watch a lot of Bruce Lee and Jackie
Chan pirated DVDs and have gotten in the habit of shouting racist ching chong
noises as imitation of a Chinese language when any Asian person walks by. Sometime
I don’t know if they love or hate Bruce and Jackie.
Right before Dickhead found me on the street, I was walking
behind four white women who were obviously tourists base on their short shorts
and skimpy strap tanks. He didn’t stop them. He stopped me because he probably
thought that I was illegal and would give him a hefty bribe to get out of a
sticky situation. You can’t blame him really, it was Sunday, church was just finished,
he probably was hungry and wanted chop (Ghanaian English for both eat and
taking bribe).
Too bad he picked on the wrong Asian and got an earful (and
probably a new asshole) from my SSO, who seemed to know everyone in the rank in
the Immigration Office. I tried to show him my Peace Corps I.D and a copy of my
Passport that I happened to have in my bag, but he wanted to see my visa, which
was in my actual Passport. I told him that he could drive me back to my village
in his private car and we can get the paper or otherwise, he can eat my dick (okay
I didn’t say that second part).
At this point, after talking to my SSO, Dickhead realized
that he wasn’t going to get lunch money, so he slowly backed off. To save face,
he continued to tell me that I should carry my info with me, or at least the
copy of my visa. He even mentioned that he had met all the Upper West Peace
Corps volunteers in an incident almost two years ago – when I wasn’t around. We
settled and parted ways.
I don’t know which was my favorite part, that I didn’t have
to fight my own battle, or that a money grubbing official got burned trying to
get some grub money. I was mainly confused as of why he thought a small Asian
woman would be an illegal immigrant gold miner. But there is a fair chance that
I always look like a boy. I was a bit surprise that I was not upset at the situation,
but I think it is due to the fact that at this point in Ghana, being upset about
these things would just make me sweat more.
Then I went and finished off season 3 of Park and Rec. I
just started the show 2 days ago. I don't have season 4.
