A typical shopping adventure

With Jason had gone away I figured (as well as hijacking the blog (although I'm still limited to writting in italics)) I should indulge myself in some girly shopping. Thankful some of the Aussie girls were also in need of some new clothes so we headed off to Makola Markets.

The markets I think can be pretty much described as crazy awesome.

Crazy:

Now when I say ‘markets’ what I really mean is a city block that’s jammed full of people – most trying to sell something.

 

The basic layout of the street goes:

proper shops

a bit of a footpath

people with stalls set up on the side of the footpath

road

a line of ladies with their hands full of clothes

line of buyers

cars/motorbikes/trucks/carts/cyclists/people with giant bundles on their head.

Of course these are all blurred together so in the end it just feels like there are people and things everywhere

 If you want to get the best deal you basically need to walk along the road – trying not to get hit by the cars/motorbikes/trucks/carts/cyclists and people with giant bundles on their heads all the time scanning the piles of clothes the women are holding, trying to assess if there’s anything good and if it’s in your size, while also trying to avoid pick-pocketers and outspoken thirteen year old boys who insist they’ve got the perfect bra for you. (sure buddy – I don’t really want to know if you do).

 

Awesome:

The up side is that if you manage to successfully pull off this manoeuvre you can get a pretty good new work skirt or top for around 3-6 cedis (a couple of Aussie dollars).

Of course the other good way to get some funky new clothes is to get them made. There are a few challenges involved, the first of which is picking out a colourful fabric from the thousands on offer.

The next important thing is to find yourself an awesome tailor. There are plenty to choose from with a tailor on almost every corner of the city. One of the other Aussie girls wanted to introduce us to hers (as he is apparently Ghana’s answer to chic). And she was right - I knew from the moment Eric walked in the door with a stereotypical fashion designer attitude and a blazer made up of small squares of different bright, out-there African fabrics that he was definitely the man for the job. I'll let you know how my dress turns out.