It is hot and humid and crowded. The smells of fresh produce mingle with body odour and open sewers. Animal parts of all descriptions lie on slabs of wood, bleeding into the dirt, covered with flies. I buy a hand-made shirt.
Chris asks me to buy a Bonnie Raitt t-shirt for him at the concert. He doesn’t care what it looks like, only that it must be white. He is looking for something to wear when playing squash and the club has an all-white rule for squash attire. There are white shirts at the merch table but the black ones are so much nicer. I buy a black t-shirt for Chris.
As a thank-you gift Juliana gives me a batakari, the traditional top from northern Ghana. I struggle to fit my head through the opening, feeling awkward. Apparently there is a program encouraging Ghanaian men to wear batakaris on the first Friday of every month. This is the first Friday of November. Adomako takes my picture as I sweat profusely.