"Side of the Road" Purchases - Part 2

Last Saturday, after a thorough weather check, we decided to walk back over to Switchback to see if we could find some patio furniture. This was attempted two weeks ago but failed miserably as right when we arrived, the sky opened up and dumped on us. The artisans were frantically trying to get their items under trees and tarps so it didn't make for the ideal shopping experience.

So off we went again. The last time we were headed that way, we noticed another shop where they had solid wood elephant carvings. We both thought they were neat but didn't stop for a price check or anything given the impending doom clouds that were rushing in to ruin our trip. This time we decided that if the elephants were still there we would at least inquire about the price. So we walk up and the gentleman says "Seventy-five. Seven Five. (pause) But I can come down on the price". So I said "Fifty". He says "Fifty five" and we agree. Dan pulls out 55 cedis and the guy says "no, Seven Five Zero." and we both look at each other and say "What? You said Seventy-five?!" So we left. Walked down the street laughing about how you can't just not include an important decimal place. The zero in the ten's place is certainly a relevant piece of information. Haha.

We turned the corner to pick out some patio furniture. We got a nice pair of bamboo chairs with foam cushions and a small side table for drinks/iPad holding when we choose to sit outside in the evenings. The seller put some extra sealant on the bamboo parts and we loaded them into two cabs to go home. Here's some photos of the new patio furniture (excuse the shadows... took these this morning):

We brought the patio furniture home and Dan took off with the cab driver again. We needed to restock our bottled water and get some groceries so he was just going to use the same cabbie for a couple hours. After we finished unloading the mountain of water, Dan got back in the cab and I asked where he was going next. He replied with "out". A man of many words, that husband of mine. I immediately figured he was going back to haggle with 'elephant-guy-who-clearly-doesn't-understand-math'. About a half hour and 400 cedis later, the apartment door opens and in comes Dan with a 100lb solid wood elephant, whom we have named Henry. Please see below for Henry in all of his 3-foot-tall glory:

Another successful day of shopping on the side of the road in Accra! The African souvenirs have already started!

Crafting Curtains

A few weeks ago, we went on the hunt for curtains for our apartment. While we knew the unit was unfurnished, it hadn't dawned on us that it did not come with window treatments either. The windows are fitted with a bar with brackets and little plastic tabs that slide in a track. The curtains that appropriately fit this setup would require the pleating and hooks (read as: not something we could just go to the store and buy pre-made).

Off we went to a home store, they quoted us an estimated cost and set up an appointment to come measure the windows. They came the following week and took the measurements on a Tuesday and said they would call with further information. No call on Wednesday or Thursday, and Friday we left for Lisbon. The next week Dan stopped in to check on the status and they said they had called me several times (I wouldn't know, I was enjoying Portugal and my Ghanaian phone doesn't have voicemail... haha). Regardless, Dan said that he was ready to pay and they mentioned that the cost per yard had gone up. It was now going to cost an extra 600 cedis for all the necessary window treatments (approx $225). This was quite irritating given that we had already received an estimate that we both thought they should honor... additionally, this is illegal in the States as a bait and switch. He left and said he needed to think about it.

The weekend arrived and we went to a clothing store that specializes in "Africa-wear". Dan's office wears African garb on Fridays and they've been giving him a hard time to get some. So we went to browse. While we didn't purchase any Africa-wear, what we didn't expect to find was tables upon tables of fabric by the yard available for purchase. Dan walked up, looked at me and said "so, can you make curtains?" Approximately, 10 days later, I had fitted all of the windows with curtains. Are they professional standard? Heck no. But they were about 1/4 of the price and in fun African fabrics rather than cheesy curtain fabric. And, maybe most importantly, they prevent people from seeing straight into our house in the evenings.

Here's some pictures of our new curtains:

Guest Post - Dan's Tax Away Day Experience

Received this invitation in my email one day earlier this month:

My initial observations: Hotel looks nice! Umm, this is over night? That seems weird.  We spent 8+ hours a day together, why would we spend even more time together?  Given things tend to run on “Africa Time”, I wasn’t surprised to see the emphasis on the departure time. Cocktails at 10AM? Hell yes.  Seems weird though because not many people drink here. Tax Olympics, huh? Turns out these are events requiring physical exertion from tax accountants. Me Time is conveniently during Happy Hour. Dinner is formal and goes till midnight? I sure as s*** hope that this 7AM Aerobics line is a joke or is optional. I take notice that there’s no emphasis on the departure time – my guess is this means departure is at 12:30.

After this invitation goes out, I hear most of the office making fun of a poor guy who lost one of the events to a girl last year. Note to self – do not lose to a girl under any circumstances or risk being taunted for the next 52 weeks.  Time to hit the gym harder.  And maybe take it easy with the Welcome Cocktails beforehand. Although, I’m looking around the office and most people are much closer to sporting a keg belly than six-pack abs. Much of this has to do with the lack of exercise and the preferred local cuisine – Carbs.

Another example of Ghanaians not allowing anyone to live anything down: One girl has the nickname Zebra.  Last year, there was the same emphasis on a prompt and timely departure and, surprisingly, the bus actually did depart on time. In order to depart, the bus must circle around the building. This girl, only minutes late, was standing at the Zebra Crossing (aka, cross walk) right in front of the building.  She called one of her friends on the bus who said the bus would stop to pick her up.  As she stood at the Zebra Crossing waving at the bus, the bus drove right by…

So we’ve finally made it to the event day…

Not wanting to have a nickname or miss the bus, I made sure to wake up early and make my way over to the office.  I showed up at 7:15, and noticed the flaw in the invitation.  The invitation assumed we would be on Africa time.  The invitation didn’t take in account that the bus driver could be on Africa time.  New departure time: 8:30 – not bad.

Not wanting to experience a Forrest Gump moment (“Seat’s taken” “Can’t sit here”) on the bus, I got before most of the crowd and expected to have a seat to myself to hopefully stretch out and nap for the 2 hour bus ride. Since this isn’t Alabama in the 1960s, people are actually quite friendly and someone actually wanted to sit with me.  This didn’t matter because once everyone was seated the master Tote stood up and made everyone switch seats so they weren’t sitting next to their best friend.  The “Tote” is someone who is essentially a stand-up comedian and the entertainment for the day’s trip. The seat swapping process was for  the Tote to shout to the back of the bus “Back of the bus, who do you want? Sheila or Hilda?”  Back of the bus would respond “We want Sheila! We want Sheila”.  Then the front of the bus would have their pick of someone in the back, and so on. So much for napping.  I ended up at the back of the bus.

Not surprisingly, our rooms aren’t ready when we arrive at 10:30.   It also turns out, cocktail doesn’t necessarily mean alcoholic.  Cocktail can also mean, juice, water and coffee.

We were broken into 4 teams for the Tax Olympics.  The Tax Olympics included your typical events: Bag race, carry an egg on a spoon, etc.  For one event, the relay race, my team decided I should be running in it.  I’m not sure if they just really wanted to see a white guy run or if they legitimately thought I would be helpful during this event.  Turns out I’m not the slowest person and I didn’t lose to any girls. Each of these events took twice as long as they probably should. Why? Because everything was argued about.  Rules aren’t clear? Argue about it.  Your team didn’t win? Argue about it.  Think you deserve points for something your team did during the event? Argue about it. 

I’ll point out here that there was no prize for accumulating the most points.

One rather unusual event had me convinced I was going to end up being medevac’d out of there.  The event involved two parts.  Part 1 involved blowing up a balloon, tying it, and holding it over your head – first team to finish wins some points – easy.  Debate ensues.  Debate concludes.  For Part 2, those of us with balloons were encircled by the spectators – it’s now the coliseum.  The goal of part two was for all the gladiators to run around and attempt to pop each other’s balloons.  Your balloon pops, you’re out.  Last man standing wins.  The catch? You have to continue to hold onto your balloon and you’re equipped with any sort of sharp object in the other.  Now I’m trapped in a circle of death with 11 other people running around stabbing at each other with pens, pencils, earrings, sticks, etc.  I now I have 2 goals – don’t lose to a girl, and don’t be impaled.  Those are very conflicting goals because accomplishing the latter would be as easy to dropping my balloon and letting it pop, but then I would fail the former goal.  I decided to take the approach of stay-the-hell-out-of-the-middle.  My approach clearly worked because hanging out by the edges and dodging any attempts to pop my balloon/disembowel me resulted in my being one of the last two alive. My opponent was about a head shorter than me, so he stayed well out of my reach, which meant I was in little danger from being eviscerated.  All of his jumping around resulted in him dropping his balloon and having it pop on the grass.  Game over.  No injuries.  Argument ensues.

After lunch, we had what was, in actuality, the most dangerous event – paddle boating.  The problem? No one can swim.  I knew people were worried (or maybe exhausted at this point) because there was no arguing and everyone was strangely quiet.  Everyone refused to get into the boat without a life vest.  No one drowned, no one argued. 

Someone decides to it’s time to play football (soccer) – Managers vs. Staff.  I’d like to say I was competitive due to my natural athletic ability.  Instead, I was competitive because I exercise regularly and am bigger than most others. There were a couple girls playing, but they were on the Manager’s team, so no risk of getting embarrassed there.  Additionally, expectations were pretty low for me being any good anyway.

My Me Time involved sitting by the pool bar, under a fan, downing water, enjoying cold beer and catching up on emails/work. 

After I get cleaned up and dressed in a 3 piece suit, it’s about 6:30.  30 minutes after the suggested 6PM photo time.  That should be a good enough buffer so I’m not the first person there, right?  Turns out – I’m the first person there.  7:00 rolls around – still waiting on the second person to come.  7:15 – finally people start arriving.  I don’t much care for pictures – it’s not something I enjoy participating in.  Ghanaians love pictures.  Unfortunately, everyone seemed particularly fond of taking pictures with the only white guy.  I started to get bored of taking the standard arm-around-your-neighbor-and-smile, so I started doing other poses like cross-our-arms-back-to-back. Unfortunately, this just makes everyone want additional pictures with the new pose too.  By 8:15 they insist it’s time for dinner so pictures come to an end.

Ghanaians typically don’t drink.  East Africans (Tanzania, Zambia and Kenya) make up for their Western counterparts’ lack of drinking and are renowned for keeping parties going till sunrise. The Kryptonite to the East African’s ability to party the night away on this particular evening is running around in the sun all day participating in the Tax Olympics.  Most people start heading back to their rooms around midnight. 

The next morning, on the 4^th wake-up call, I decide this 7AM aerobic thing wasn’t a joke and isn’t all that optional.  What was supposed to be an hour long session with a professional instructor turned out to be less than 30 minutes.  The instructor gave up on us because everyone was so exhausted/out of shape.  If she asked us to do 25 jumping jacks, by 15 half the group was done and by 20 people were on the ground. 

After breakfast the bus managed to depart at a rather timely 11:15.  I was napping  by 1:30 on our fantastic couch.

Accra Oktoberfest

This weekend was the Oktoberfest event here in Accra. It was held Friday evening after work til about midnight and yesterday from noon til about 11pm. The event was at the Goethe Institut (German Cultural Center) which is actually not far from our compound.

I actually ended up there Friday night with some friends. We had gone out to dinner and made the gametime decision to check it out. Dan was away at a work event so I was on my own for the night. Saturday afternoon, Dan and I went back for a couple hours when he got home.

We enjoyed the event but people who had been to it last year said that the 2013 installment was significantly more authentic. Last year they had German bands, dancing, people in lederhosen, the long banquet like tables making it look like a legitimate beer hall straight out of Munich. The venue for this year made that set up quite difficult just based on its layout. As a result there were different pockets of areas to sit, beer in one area, food grilling in another, and a local Ghanaian band in the back. While the band was actually very good, it just wasn't the German ambiance. We ran into a friend there who was born and raised on Cologne, Germany, and he was pretty disappointed with this year's event. At one point, he actually paid the event organizer to stop the Ghanaian band and play some legitimate German tunes (haha).

All in all it was a good time. We had some German beer and spent time with friends. The weather was lovely so we sat outside on a patio with a nice breeze. Around 8pm, Dan and I went down the road to Captain Hook's for some dinner. We had a MASSIVE seafood platter that they said was for 2 people, but we're certain it should have been listed for 3-4 people. We asked what was included in the platter, but we expected a small portion of each... not a WHOLE FILLET of each one! Swordfish, grouper, snapper, sole, tilapia, tempura prawns, lobster, etc. It was quite tasty, just way too much food. Just so that you could see the true size of this platter, here's a picture of it:

All in all, it was a nice weekend. We are planning to spend the rest of this evening watching NFL games and may have some friends over for dinner.

What?! No Halloween in Ghana?!?

Ok, ok... Let's admit that this isn't all that surprising. With as Christian as this country is, I can't say I'm shocked that they don't celebrate a little Pagan holiday that is chock full o' costumes and candy.

Those of you who know me well know that these three months from October to Christmas are pretty much my favorite. I love decorating our house for this time of year and Halloween is the kickoff to the season. So when we packed up our items back in San Francisco, I made sure that the Halloween and Thanksgiving decorations were in the air freight. Yes, we may not have half our wardrobe or our real bed, but you better believe I've got pumpkins and turkeys out the wazoo.

So without further ado, here are some of our favorite decorations for this spooky special occasion.

Note: Sunday's post may be a little late as we're attending Accra's Oktoberfest on Saturday evening and it may take me a bit to send/upload the photos.

Lisbon Part II - The Souvenirs

Let's be honest that some of the best parts of traveling are obviously the experiences, but also what you choose to bring home as a small reminder of the trip itself. Sometimes the souvenir is a practical item that will get day to day use, other times it's something that is only brought out at a special time of the year. Regardless of how often the token graces your life, it's always a warm reminder of a trip you took and the experiences you shared with family and friends.

These are the trinkets that we brought home with us as a reminder of our three-day escape to Lisboa. Note: Lisbon is known for its intricate tilework, ceramics, and oddly, sardines. We tried to get incorporate some of these into our trinkets.

Cork coasters with fun painted tiles

Small handpainted ceramic bowls for snacks or spices when cooking

Handpainted Cable Car canvases from a local artist painting in a plaza 

(I liked the yellow car, Dan preferred the red, so we got both and decided that they should be hung side by side. Both a reminder of Lisbon and San Francisco)

Last but not least: Growing up, my momma always bought Christmas tree ornaments from places we traveled. The weekend following Thanksgiving, we got out the Christmas stuff and began decorating the tree. It was so much fun to unwrap ornaments and be reminded of a specific trip or the store where we bought that particular ornament. In college, I decided to take up the same tradition. Everywhere Dan and I go, we try to find a Christmas tree ornament (or at the very least a magnet or something that we could put a string on to make it into one). This was the "ornament" purchase for our trip to Portugal:

That's all for now! 

Our Weekend Trip to Lisbon

Last week, we realized that Monday, October 6th was the Muslim holiday, Eid-Al-Adha. This is one of the bank holidays observed in Ghana... we're still not sure why as approx 95% of the country is Christian. Regardless, we happily took the extra day to the weekend and decided on an impromptu trip to Lisbon, Portugal. (To be fair, we had planned to go at the end of October for Dan's birthday, but the extra "free" day made it too hard to pass up).

We took the red eye flight out of Accra on Thursday night arriving at the crack of dawn on Friday morning. Ate some breakfast at the hotel, chugged some coffee and hit the road to start soaking up the city. We actually benefitted from our early start as we got to see almost all the monuments and sights before the rest of the tourists were up and moving. Since Dan hates waiting in line more than anything (aside from maybe my Steelers), this was a welcomed surprise.

We spent much of the weekend sightseeing, eating delicious food and drinking surprisingly reasonably-priced Portuguese wine. I think it's safe to say we would recommend Lisbon to anyone. It has all the European charm of the bigger tourist cities, but at a fraction of the price. We were shocked at how reasonably priced things were, especially dinners and wine at well-respected restaurants.

Things that we learned about Lisbon/Portugal:

• Portuguese as a language may look similar to Spanish, but it is NOT pronounced anything like it. It sounds more like a Russian/German blend than Spanish.
• After dinner coffee comes in teeeeeny tiny espresso-like cups
• Lisbon is San Francisco's sister city. They have a Golden Gate Bridge/Bay Bridge combo and cars like the F-train that go around the city.
• While it is very walkable, the streets are all tiled so a bit slippery and uneven. Also, the underground metro was impressively efficient and clean.
• While Port is a bit too sweet for us, we learned that we actually really enjoy Madeira (the other of the sweet wines for which Portugal is known). This was especially enjoyable considering I grew up in Madeira Beach, Florida, and attended Elementary and Middle schools of the same namesake.
• That's it because we don't want to give it all away... you should go experience it for yourself!

And let the photo montage begin:

 Front of the train station

 I'm kind of obsessed with these lamps

 Many buildings are covered in beautiful tile work

This is a monument in the Placa da Comercios. We were told that this is where all commerce was done in Lisbon long ago because all the ships would dock here from Africa and unload. 

Lisbon's replica of the bridges of San Francisco. It's the color of the Golden Gate and has the two suspensions (and is quite long). But the anchors look more like the Bay Bridge with the X's...

Convent de Carmo - There was a sizable earthquake in 1755 that required much of the city to be rebuilt. This convent's roof was lost but never rebuilt making it open air. We think there was a concert hosted here the night before as they were taking lots of equipment out when we arrived and the cables were likely holding speakers.

Thanks for the lovely weekend getaway, Lisboa. We loved you.

So... What's in the BOX?!

Excuse the terrible Seven reference... But I bet you're wondering, after Dan's guest post on Thursday, what the heck was in that box? You know, the one that was a bit more spherical than rectangular by the time he actually got to leave with it? Actually, here's photographic evidence and no, we did not open it.

So what was so important that we had to have it shipped from the US? What are the things that make us think of "home"? What are the household essentials that couldn't be located here in Accra?

• Honey Nut Cheerios
• Goldfish - Dan is obsessed with cheese flavored crackers, which is odd because he doesn't really like cheese
• Cheez-Its
• Shakeology
• A Dishwand with sponges (the one where the soap goes in the handle)
• Chlorox wipes
• Swiffer Dusters
• A Swiffer handle for the wet Swiffers that I brought (not pictured. If you're thinking "why in the world does she have the wet pads but not the handle, the answer is the handle is in the luggage that was supposed to come with us initially but got lumped in with the sea freight. So in a couple months I'll have two!!! Is there such a thing as too many Swiffer products? I think not.)
• Damp Rid - safety precaution with the humidity here so we don't ruin all our clothes
• Clinique makeup - yes, I had my makeup shipped from the States. Unnecessary? maybe. Sorry I'm not sorry.
• Popcorn kernals for the air popper
• Harvest Yankee Candle
• Worchestershire Sauce - because... burgers on the grill.
• Low Sodium soy sauce

And those, my friends, were the contents of the first care package. Stay tuned as there is another en route from the other set of parents with more American goodies!!

My Customs Experience - Guest Posting from my husband, Dan

This is the story of Dan's attempts to retrieve our first care package sent from our family in the States. 
Theme: What should take 10 minutes will take 45-60.

On Friday, I had our driver Jeeves (aka Richard) take me to the customs department at Kotoka airport.  There's a man standing at the entrance who charges 3 cedis to lift open a gate.  Surprisingly, he has change for a 5.  We drive around amongst a bunch of customs "offices" which are converted storage containers.  The area is pretty deserted and I think (foolishly) "wow, I must be one of the first people here, I'll get through this pretty quickly."  I did get out of there pretty quickly, because they don't work on Fridays.

Safe bet they aren't working Saturday or Sunday - so not even going to attempt.  At this point the reader may wonder why our protagonist didn't try calling?

I'll stop here to note that phone technology here is equivalent to the 1950s.  There's no call waiting, no voicemail/message machine and no automated systems. You call, it rings, someone picks up.  Or, you call, it rings forever, you lose patience and give up.

Monday. Round 2.  Gameplan: go in the afternoon.  Taxi drivers love tie-wearing Obroni's like me, so I had no trouble finding a taxi to make me the 200 yards from my office to the customs offices. 

Why not walk?

1) No sidewalks

2) It's hot, like Africa hot.

We drive up to the gate (where Mr. 3 Cedi still stands) and encounter a handful of people running to the cab asking if I'm getting a package.  I pay Mr. 3 Cedi to lift the gate again and as we drive around the make-shift "offices," one particularly enterprising man chased the taxi. This time the place was swarmed with people.  "Now this is more like Africa."  It turns out the enthusiastic gentleman is named Francis and he is donning a name badge that looks official enough. He might actually be there to help me and not steal my packaged cereals and/or passport and/or money.  

"Do you have a copy of your ID card?"

"I've got my passport"

"Let's go make a photocopy"

We walk behind the "offices" into a small shaded opening where there are 3 guys sleeping next to a copy machines.  Francis yells at one of them, he gets up and makes a copy of my passport for me.  I give Francis says to give him "some coins".  I think "Gladly, these things are heavy and pretty much worthless from a value perspective."  I give him about 1 cedi, and again, shockingly, get change.  Good, more coins!

With my photocopy and other paperwork in tow, I follow Francis behind a barbed wire fence and past some well armed guards.  Because, nothing needs protecting more than my Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Crackers - Cheddar Flavored.  

Inside is pretty much what you would expect a customs office in Africa to look like.  Boxes strewn about everywhere with half the people laying on top of them resting.  More uniformed people are inside.

Francis and I walk past some of the stacks of boxes and down a narrow gap in the cardboard jungle to the UPS office.  Well, Francis thus far has earned a tip and hasn't attempted to scam me.

Unfortunately, the only guy that works at the UPS office is on break.  So Francis and I stand around and more people come by looking for Mr. UPS.  I can't understand them, but based on context and volume, I like to think everyone was saying "Where the f*** is Mr. UPS? Tell him to get off his break and get his ass over here!"  

To kill the time I start talking with Francis asking about how this all works.  Turns out the pile of boxes were in some order, despite it looking like chaos.  Each shipping vendor has their own little designated area where their packages are stored waiting to be picked up.  He tells me that all the official looking people here actually open the boxes and compare it to the packing list.  No sooner than he mentions it, 4 people tear open a giant box and start unwrapping all of these computer parts from someone's box.  Francis also tells me where to go for shipments from FedEx, DHL and the post office.  Turns out Francis still hasn't tried to scam me and he's telling me useful information.  Bigger tip.

Mr. UPS shows up and everyone immediately storms into the UPS kiosk to try and get up front.  Luckily Francis isn't too big and he slips by into the front.  Way to go Francis!

Francis gives Mr. UPS (aka the Break Taker), my paperwork and he pulls out a binder filled with packing slips and starts to look for mine.  During his search I look about the room and wonder just how long it's going to take for someone to locate a brown cardboard box in a warehouse of brown cardboard boxes. 

Mental note: use colorful packing tape for ease of identification.

25 cedis later, Mr. UPS gives me a box that I can imagine once had corners and was probably "box" shaped.  It's now a little more spherical.  

Francis and Mr. UPS exchange some words and now we have to go talk to someone else.  I can tell she's important because she's wearing a very fancy uniform and has her own office.  We're waiting outside and Francis says "we have to talk to the boss."   Damn it Francis, what did you do?! Tip diminishing.

The "boss" has a glare that would make pit bulls wet themselves.  She says something to a subordinate who says something to Francis.  Unfortunately Francis didn't respond fast enough because the subordinate tears one of my documents from Francis's hands - ripping it in the process.  Well, as long as they let me bring the goldfish to jail, it might turn out okay.  

The subordinate and boss lady chat briefly and then Francis and I are instructed to wait by a desk.  Eventually subordinate comes over, orders someone to open the box (which I suppose is for the second time), and has Francis start shuffling through all the items.  

"What's wrong, don't you like Ghanaian food?"

"Well I haven't been able to find Goldfish here"

"What's this?" Holding up the dish wand

"You put soap in the handle and use it for washing dishes"

"Too good to use your hands?"

"...."

"Who sent all of this to you?"

"My mom" (oh shit, it was actually my mother-in-law, but I can't change the story now).

"Ah, so your a mommy's boy"

"Well, I'm an only child so she wants to send me stuff from the states"

She says something else and Francis tries to repack everything into what's left of my "box".  

Now we have to actually go talk to the boss lady.

"What's your name?"

"Daniel Cavazos"

"Where do you work?"

"PricewaterhouseCoopers"

"Oh so you're an accountant?"

"Yes ma'am"

"How long have you been in Ghana?"

"About 5 weeks"

"How long will you be in Ghana?"

"Two years"

"Two years! You must love it here"

"It's been great"

<subordinate interjects> "His mommy sent him food"

"Hahaha, you're a mommy's boy! How old are you"

"29" shit, not sure why that came out, I'm only 28 - hopefully they don't look at my passport and do the math

"Ah, you must still wear diapers with how nervous you look"

*nervous laugh*

Boss lady says something subordinate

Subordinate: "She's done with you, now say thank you"

"Thank you"

We show a receipt to about 4 other people before getting the box back to the taxi who waited for me.  I got my package and didn't end up in jail - so I give Francis a decent tip.  He gives me his number and tells me to let him know when I'm coming to get a package and he'll help me.  

We'll see.

About an hour later, I get back to the office with dried goods and the remnants of a box.