After being in Ghana for almost three months, I have adjusted pretty well to most things while putting my foot down on many, which I will share soon but today I feel the urge to share my thoughts on one thing in particular and surprisingly that topic is drinking. In New York, a drink of alcohol is a constant in most of our lives. Meetings with friends are usually done over what? Drinks. Weekend brunches would be pointless without girlfriends and what? Drinks. Happy hour would barely be content hour without what? Drinks. Celebrations would be incomplete without toasts to our accomplishments, I mean there’s a reason it is bad luck to toast with water, just saying.
Here on the other side of the world things are quite different. Some words have different meanings, each handshake is accompanied by a snap, men can walk hand in hand down the street and no one would bat an eyelash however a lady can’t enjoy a scotch without gentlemen breaking their necks in confusion. In some parts of the world its quite impressive when one comes across a lady who knows her ales from her ciders just not this part.
 It has been conspicuously suggested to me countless times that I should consider having a malt instead or perhaps a Smirnoff ice or maybe switching to wine instead as to not draw the wrong impression from people as women don’t indulge in certain behaviors in Ghana, like being intoxicated in public. I just couldn’t understand ‘I think its time to wine for a bit.’ Don’t get me wrong I love wine perhaps more than I do beer, when I’m out in NYC my alcohol drink of choice is always a sauvignon blanc on warm days, a glass of cabernet on the chilly days and a glass of prosecco when the mood strikes me; However I have always preferred a nice chilled glass of beer on extremely hot summer days and being that Ghana is full of “hot summer days” I’m sure you could understand why I prefer to indulge in the carbohydrate laden beverage.

why men could damn near kill themselves and their intestinal lining with the locally brewed gin (known as apeteshi.) At first I was a bit peeved, not really caring what conclusions or judgments came my way, I’d go out, armed with my feminism tucked neatly in my purse then carefully placing it on the table right next to my pilsner. I’d drink what the guys drank, laughed at the same jokes they did while the other ladies sat with quiet attitudes of superiority. Till one day I walked past a mirror and realized, in the past two and a half months I have consumed more carbs than a Los Angeles Residence consumes in an entire year and a half. That the day I said to my self

Given my expanding waistline I decided on a truce, I’d give up beer choose wine, although which delivers a stronger buzz than beer, so I’m not too sure what it is about wine. However I came to the conclusion it was just the sight of a woman indulging in the same alcohol beverage as the guys was unsightly as women are supposed to be feminine and beer isn’t. I guess the wine glasses provide a more feminine touch than beer does, but little do they know, my cute curvy glass of wine packs more of a punch that their ale. In the end we all win, I don’t drink my entire carbohydrate intake, I look lady like in public as to not embarrass my company and I have also learned what our African mothers have known all this while, win silently while he is distracted by the shiny trophy


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