Living in Africa

Going on art gallery crawls in Accra, Ghana, you can find many treasures, like the Yellow Splasher and the Pinhead Painter.

Here I was, in the throes of labor and in comes the doctor, wearing . . . no, not scrubs, not a white coat, but . . . .

One night my mate came home bearing a gigantic blood sausage, a gift from a Kikuyu farmer concerned about my failure to get pregnant . . .

Shopping in an African market: It’s not your American mall, but you can get your hair done, and where better to find dried shrimp by the kilo?

Are we speaking English in Kenya? I was annoyed with the response I received when I offered tea to two rain-drenched African girls. Sheesh!