St. Louis

We had a nice uneventful trip to St. Louis. We made it on exactly one tank of gas. Yay. After checking in to the Motel 6 on the south side of St. Louis on I-55, we headed into St. Louis downtown to check out the arch and the downtown area. Lot's of nice trendy looking restaurants. Yet the downtown looks so dead.

After that we headed back and did some shopping at Target and Schnuk's grocery store which is pretty good despite the name. Back in our room, we had premade chicken, cous-cous, salad, and wine. Yummy. But Elena didn't like the cous-cous--it tasted stale to her. We had gotten it from Whole Foods in Madison. We also forgot to pick up a bottle of water. Those premade chickens are pretty salty.

February 3, 2008

St. Louis Or Bust

And we're off. In the next few minutes I'll pack up my laptop, put it in the car, then start our drive to St. Louis. Next post--from St. Louis.

Elena Returns

It's been a long time since I've updated my blog. I've been at home with my parents leading a life with nothing really travel related to blog about. But now Elena, who was in France and Morocco with me, is back. We'll rest up for a while. Then it's off to the Pacific Northwest.

Since it's snowy in the US, we are thinking of a route somethng like: St. Louis, Memphis, New Orleans, Austin, El Paso, Phoenix, Las Vegas, San Fransisco, Portland, Seattle, Vancouver. Sound good? It does to me, too.

Last Day In Africa: Accra To Chicago Via AMS & DTW

I got up and worked on blog text until about 9am.  Then went to Busy Internet.  They were in the process of rebooting all their computers.  Not good.  I asked the girl if this would less than or more than 10 minutes.  She said they're working on it.  "So that means more than 10 minutes..."

I left and got a cab to Osu.  Only GH¢2.  I'm getting better at this.  I went to the internet cafe in the Osu food court.  But I had a GH¢10 bill and nothing smaller.  The internet cafe at the food court couldn't give me GH¢9.  But no problem--I'm in a food court right?  I went to buy a pastry.  Nope--they can't break it.  I went to another place to buy an Orange Fanta.  Nope--they can't break it.  Then I realized that I actually had a GH¢1 coin, so I used it.  I didn't think I'd have these liquidity problems in Osu.

I went to Frankie's.  I figured since all I wanted was a small beer, I'd just go to their lounge.  But even though there is only a door separating the lounge from the restaurant, a small Star costs GH¢3.30 in the lounge and GH¢1.80 in the restaurant.  And there is no TV with CNN in the lounge.  So I went back out to the restaurant.  I watched more soccer then went to Ryan's Irish pub at noon.  I had a hamburger and a couple of beers.  I had a nice chat with a couple of men.  One left early after a while and then the other, who has been in Ghana for 14 years, and I compared our levels of travel savviness with stories of our travel experiences.

After that, I took a cab to my hotel where I just picked up my bags and then went to the airport.  I ate one last little bit of food at The Landing.  I had hummous and a Russian salad.  Maybe food with garlic and onions is not the best thing before a flight.  Oh well, I smell already.  I filled out my Ghana immigration card.

Than back to the airport where I went through immigration and then just waited for my flight.  There were a lot of white people carrying stuff sold by the merchants.  Wow!  People actually do buy that stuff!

Soon we boarded the big plane and it was nice because they had stairs at the front of the plane and at the back so I didn't have to walk all the way through.  Not bad.

It was a 6 hour flight and I was between 2 people.  Yuck.  Then a small time in Amsterdam.  They had a McDonalds but no Sausage McMuffin with Egg and that hash brown thing.  So I didn't eat.  Then a multiple hour trip to Detroit.

 

Immigration was pretty good.  No questions, really.  He typed forever, I suppose because he typed in my list of countries visited.  Then I got my bags and went through customs.  Naturally, I was smelly, unshaven, and jut got back from a trip to Africa--that means a full inspection of my bags.  I did it and it was thorough.  Lots of questions which were easy enough to answer.  I had only one thing that I was worried about--my prescriptionless prescription drug, Savarine--and they totally missed it.   Then after the X-ray security scan, they hauled me out for the full body scan which was kind of neat.  I had to stand on some foot prints and hold my arms up, then rotate 90 degrees and hold my arms a different way.  Cool, where I had a small hamburger at small fries at McDonald's to get my American fast food fix settled for the next several weeks.  Then a short flight to O'Hare.  I got my bags (whew) and went out to the Hilton lounge to get a beer and call my brother.  He was actually really close to O'Hare by coincidence and picked me up.  Then, because it started snowing a few hours before, it took us 3.5 hours to go 15 miles.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008 10:03 Chicago local time

Accra Again: Lost Luggage Day II

I recharged my phone overnight and got out my new SIM card.  Then I remembered something.  I have to unlock my phone.  I need a code I got from AT&T before I left.  Dammit.  That means I need to go to the internet cafe first.  I went to the busy internet cafe and with a little sleuthing found my unlock code in my email.  Then I popped my old SIM card and put the new one in, and voilà.  It asked for the passcode and I entered it.  I stepped outside and tried to place a call.  The first time you try to call, it registers the SIM so you have to redial.  But when it registered me, it told me I had only GH¢0.50.  That's like 3 minutes.  Busy Internet sells credit, but not this early in the morning.  Fortunately, I'm near Nkrumah Circle and I saw people selling credit.  I bought GH¢2 of credit from a guy.  His girlfriend was there, and she asked I'd buy her some credit too.  Sorry.

I called my airport plus extension and finally got a guy.  He said he'd look into it and call me back.  It was very loud with all the traffic, so I went back to my hotel room where I called again and explained the urgency of the situation--I'm leaving for the US the next day and need my baggage.  I got his name, Moses Glago.  He said he would visit the Virgin Nigeria office and get them to help.  I asked if I should be there too to answer any questions that might arise.  He said he didn't mind but it wasn't necessary.  So I walked back to Osu to wait for the call from Moses.

I had a beer at Venus in the Byblos Hotel.  Then out on the street met a guy (who says his artist name is a rather uncreative Black Africa) try to sell me paintings.  I told him I wouldn't buy anything but could look.  He tried to ask GH¢28.  I reminded him that I said I wasn't going to buy anything.  Then he gave me a painting for free and suggested I give him a donation (the left arm buffs the right arm, the right arm buffs the left arm, he kept saying).  I said that asking for a donation for a free item is the same as selling it and I wasn't going to buy anything.  Finally after about 5 minutes of this BS, I just gave him his painting back and left.

I got another GH¢1 of Tigo time, a Time magazine at Koala, and got a cab to the airport.  I found Moses.  Had he been to the Virgin Nigeria office? Not yet.  He had me write out a more detailed description.  Another guy with lost luggage asked for their phone number and they gave him the bad one so I gave him the good one.  I tried to go to the Virgin office, but it was closed and the security people told me to wait or come back later.  I went back down and peppered another guy with questions about the whole process.  My bags were not even in their system.  They didn't even know where they were.  They were not being tracked.  I said I want phone calls to be made and my bags located.  Another woman came in on the same 2 flights the same night.  Same story with them.

I went to Aerostar and had a beer while waiting for Moses to call.  He didn't so I went back and asked more questions.  The guy said they don't call.  They just use the email system.  I figured all I could do was wait and left.  A guy outside, Stephen, reminded me that I should go to the Virgin Nigeria office again.

Up I went.  There I met Olivia.  I explained the whole thing to her--Moses was supposed to talk with her (he didn't), I was leaving for the US the next day, the whole process in Douala was manual even down to handwritten boarding passes and my bags were not even in their system.  Then she did what the Aviance people would not.  She got out her phone and address book and started calling.  Of course, the first guy she called was Moses and made him come up and they had a brief exchange in their native language.  Within 5 minutes, a Virgin Nigerian employee had gone to an underground cage where baggage is kept and found both my bags and neither of them was slated to move anywhere anytime.  There was an hour to the next flight from Lagos and they would get my bags on that flight.

If I hadn't talked with Olivia, I would not have been able to return to the United States with my bags.  The Aviance people were worthless.  Worse that worthless.  They lied to me, deceived me, and made me waste my time.  If the girl who told me my bags would be on the next flight wouldn't have lied, and would have said that they weren't even in the system, I would have gone to the Virgin Nigeria office a day sooner and gotten my bags on the previous evening's flight.  Instead I was wasting my entire day--my last full day in West Africa--there and the frickin' airport because that stupid idiot girl lied to me.  I'm eternally grateful to Olivia.

I waited in the internet cafe at the airport and then heard the annoucement that my flight landed.  I tried to get in the back door to get my bags while there were on the carousel, but it would have cost a GH¢10 dash.  Dammit!  I tried with another guy but he couldn't get me in either.  In the end, the only thing I could do was wait at Aviance.  There was a new woman and I told her I wanted my luggage and that the girl who was there at the desk yesterday had lied to me about the luggage being on the flight.  Then I saw the girl who lied was there in another chair.

I sat down to wait.  A guy sat next to me--he was the guy who I gave the better phone number to.  He thanked me.  Then after about a half hour, my luggage came.  They have a customs officer right there in the room and I cleared customs.  He didn't look at anything of mine--just the other guy.  I just had to sign a ledger with information about my luggage.

Then I got a cab for GH¢5 back to the hotel.  Since it was late and I didn't much money left, I just ate at a local Chinese place up on Nkrumah Circle so I didn't have to spend GH¢6 on cabs to and from Osu.  The power at my hotel went out just as I was leaving and it went out at the CHinese place just as I was finishing up my meal.  So I avoided the bulk of the problems with the power outages.  Though, Ghana had had pretty reliable power until then.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008 8:51 Chicago local time

Accra Again: Dealing With Lost Luggage

My luggage was lost and they told me to call them around noon.  It was late morning so I decided to start already.  There is one difference between Douala and Accra--in Douala, there are plenty of businesses where you can use a phone to call people and pay by the minute.  Accra doesn't have many of these.  The sun had come out and I was still wearing the same shirt I wore on the plane and all night long.  I finally found a box.  But the number wasn't working.

I decided to try another box.  It took a long time to find one.  Again, the number wasn't working.  Ugh!  This sucks!  I went to M&J Travel which is near Osu and asked them if they could help.  All they would do is give me the number to Virgin Nigeria.  They remembered me.  When I was there, they thought McCain was going to win, but I had been monitoring fivethirtyeight.com, so I said the race was still leaning pretty heavily in Obama's favor.  She noted that in fact, Obama did win.

I walked back to the hotel.  There is a prepaid card pay phone at the hotel.  I asked where I can get a prepaid card.  "Oh, that phone doesn't work."  (Of course not, this is Africa.)  There is another one there on the desk.  "That one doesn't work either."  But the clerk offered to let me use a cell phone, but I'd have to get some MTN credits.  OK, that shouldn't be too hard.  But it was.  Usually, you don't have to walk more than half a block to find someone selling credits.  But I walked all over. I found another prepaid card phone outside a hotel.  I went in and asked a hotel employee if they sell card.  No, he said, check the gas station across the street.  I went across the street.  Do you sell Ghana Telecom prepaid cards? No, go down the street.  I was hot, sweaty and getting frustrated.  I found 2 guys out side a business that sells MTN credit, but it was closed (it was Saturday, after all).  They directed to another business, but it was also closed.  I wandered around some more, then finally found what I was looking for.

There are 2 ways to get time on your phone.  You can buy little scratch off cards and enter the number.  Or you can find people with credit on the phone and they can transfer some of their credit to another phone number--for a fee of course.  So these two women were there sitting under an umbrella with a sign showing how much it costs to transfer how much credit from their phone to mine.  I gave them the phone number of the desk clerk's phone and got about GH¢2 worth of time--about 15 minutes.

Then back to the hotel.  The phone number I was given is still out of service.  I couldn't get a human at the Virgin Nigeria office despite trying a few times.  Then the desk clerk called the airport.  From that we got the number to the bag reclaim desk.  So I now I had that number.  I called and explained my situation.  Then my time ran out.

An African couple came.  The man is a big guy.  He asked how I'm doing.  Not so well.  He and his wife live in Miami, but he is a chief (Nana) in Cape Coast and was here to do chief stuff.  He is also a travel agent.  He offered to help and gave some advice.  The most helpful piece of advice was to get a SIM card for my AT&T cell phone.  He said I should do everything through the hotel clerk, so I gave the hotel clerk GH¢5 to get me a SIM card.  He said I should go to the airport (I already decided I had no choice but to do that) and get names and if I needed help he knew people there who could help me.  But he had to run because he had chief stuff to do.

So I headed to the airport (GH¢5).  I went to the Aviance counter where they handle lost bags.  The first thing I did was ask for the phone number.  She gave it to me but it was the same phone number I already had.  "That's your phone number?" "Yes." "I tried it--it doesn't work." "I know." "You know it doesn't work?" "Yes." "But that's your phone number?" "Yes." I stood there aghast.  "Why does your office have a phone number that doesn't work?" "It usually works, but there's a problem this weekend." The girl checked her computer.  She told me that my bags were going to be in the flight tonight.  I asked for her name.  She wouldn't tell me.  That should have been a red flag--she didn't want to held accountable for the information she gave me.  I would find out why later.

I went to Aerostar, a bar/restaurant near the airport.  I got a Star beer.  It's nice there--outdoor but shaded.  And reasonably priced unlike the places inside the airport.  Just GH¢2 for a big bottle of beer.

Then I got a cab to Danquah Circle in Osu for GH¢5.  I walked down to Ryan's Pub and a beer while watching Everton play Manchester City.  Finally I was hungry.  Ravi who I met at the airport in Douala recommended Indian Heritage as the best Indian food in Accra and it was pretty close to Ryan's Irish pub, so I went there.  But they open at 6:30.  So I went to a bar across the street, Honey Road, and ordered a beer.  Then this crazy guy who might be the owner or might just be the husband of one employee and the father of another one sat at my table.

He was talking crazy.  Asking me all types of weird questions.  Like "Kunta Kinte: what color is he?" "Black." Easy enough.  "Who was the first man on the moon?" "Neil Armstrong." "Wrong!" he asserted and said some Russian name.  "Stevie Wonder: What color is he?" "Black." "Where was Kunta Kinte from?" "The Gambia" "No--from Africa."  "Who took him to America: black men or white men?" "White men." It went on like this for about a half hour.  He was extremely offended that I didn't know Kofi Annan was from Ghana.  He asserted that there are no scientists born in America.  Naturally we talked about Obama.  Finally, 6:30 rolled around and I was anxious to end this craziness with this meaningless questions.

The Indian Heritage was good.  I got a spinach like dish recommended by Ravi and samosas and rice and a garlic naan and a chicken dish.  Yummy.  I couldn't even finish it all.  They did something funny with the bill.  They left the chicken dish off and then had me pay for it in cash downstairs.  How odd, but I went along.  Then they help me get a cab (it's a bit off the main drag so not many cabs come by) and for GH¢4, I got back to my room.  I fell asleep until the desk clerk called and told me I should come and pick up my new SIM card.  So I did.  Then I went back to my room, exhausted since I didn't sleep the previous night, and died on the bed.

Monday, December 15, 2008 8:03 Ghana local time

Douala To Accra Via Lagos

I got up early on my last day, Thursday the 11th, to go to Delice.  They had pain aux raisins but no chausson aux pommes.  So I had a lighter breakfast than I expected.

Time was low, so I returned to my hotel and packed.  I still had an hour, so I went out in search of a close internet cafe.  They were all either closed, or had no connection.  Then I found one that was open and while I was reaching for my money to buy some time, several square blocks, including theirs, lost power.  I just got a moto-taxi back to the hotel.

The cab to the airport cost me CFA 3000.  Not bad.  Lonely Planet said CFA 2500 and CFA 3000 at night, so I didn't get reamed too bad.  On the way, we passed a bar called the Barak Obama.  I'm not sure if they misspelled his name for copyright and legal reason or if they just didn't know to spell it.  Interesting, either way.  Barack Obama sure has captured the popular imagination in Africa.

The way the airport works in Douala is that the cabs don't take you right to the departure doors like at most airports.  Rather, the drop you off by a bunch of men who grab your stuff and charge CFA 300 per bag to take your bags up to the departure area.  Whatever.  I had fun by having only a CFA 5000 bill to pay the guy and made him run all over looking for change.  I was pretty early, and it's fun to make people work for their money when they provide a service I don't really want anyway.

I got there and this guy told me that my plastic weaved bag has to be wrapped.  I said I'd get it wrapped if Virgin Nigeria told me to wrap it.  He told me would wrap it and he started.  I asked him combien ça coûte?  3000 Francs.  C'est fou! I said.  D'accord, 2500 Francs.  Non, c'est fou.  But he kept wrapping.  Pour quoi vouz continuez à emballer quand nous n'avons pas une marché?  Je ne peux pas payer sans une marché.  Another employee in a yellow reflective vest was watching this with an interested look.  The guy kept wrapping.  I kept telling him stuff like "je ne payer une prix folle.  Vous douvez negocier une prix avant vous faisez le travaille." But he kept going.  When he finished, he asked for CFA 2500.  Non!  J'ai dit que je ne payer pas 2500.  Mais vous avez continué.  Je ne comprend pas pour quoi vous prefere à faire le travaille avant negocier une prix.  Je pense que c'est fou." I told him I'd give him CFA 500.  The yellow vested employee was enjoying watching this.  The wrapper wasn't happy at all.  He asked for 2500 again.  I reached down and touched the tape. "C'est combien?  50 Francs?" and then I touched the plastic sheet thing we put around the bag and asked "Et ça, c'est combien?  50 Francs aussi?" He was looking angry and just looking around.  "500 Francs, c'est ne pas bon," he said.  I reminded him again the price he stated was crazy and he should have stopped and negotiated a deal with me but he didn't.  Finally, I upped it to CFA 1000.  He just kept looking around with this disgusted look.  He did that for a couple of minutes.  I held the CFA 1000 in my hand ready for him to take it.  "Est-ce que vous gaspillez votre temps ici?" I asked since he wasn't doing anything--just looking around waited for me to cave in, I suppose.  Then after another couple of minutes, he finally wandered off.  I'm not sure what he was going to do.  He refused my money and walked away.  The yellow vested guy eventually left too since the show was over.  A guy from India was watching as was a Chinese girl.  But their French apparently wasn't up to being able to enjoy the spectacle as fully as the guy in the yellow vest.

After about 5 minutes, the wrapper guy came back. I renewed the offer of CFA 1000.  He took it and left.  The yellow vested guy came back a few minutes later as well and asked if I paid the guy.  I told him I had.  Then I asked "normallement, c'est combien?" He said CFA 1000--exactly what I paid.  Not bad.

I was the first to get my boarding pass.  The system was totally manual.  My boarding pass was hand written.  My seat assignment was done with stickers.  The luggage tags were written out by hand as well.  Hmmm...  I hope my luggage makes it with this hand written stuff...

I went through security and had to pay a CFA 10000 (US$20) departure tax.  Then I needed to fill out a departure form and hand it to immigration.  Security was fairly high.

The guy from India, Ravi, and the Chinese girl and I hung out together for the next three hours as we waited for the plane to take off.  He knows Africa pretty well since he is here with sales for agricultural equipment.  We talked about African economics and development and culture.  There was an Africa guy listening to us who was probably interested in our opinions of Africa even if they weren't terribly optimistic.  They, after all, have enormous culturally based problems to overcome.

We boarded the plane and it wasn't long before we were in Lagos.  Near the end of the flight, they handed out the Nigerian immigration form.  They said that even if you transit, you need to fill it out.  However, as soon as I landed, I went to the Virgin Nigeria transfer desk and got a boarding pass for the next flight and that flight was right there in the terminal, so there was no need for me to go through Nigerian customs.

I had been worried that we might not make it in time for the next flight, but it turns out that the plane to Accra is the plane I was on, so our delay was its delay.  I got on, again through pretty high security.  They were smart and gave us our Ghanian immigration forms as we boarded so most people would have them filled out even before we took off.  The plane started to back up.  Then it started to go forward again.  Hmmm....  Wrong way.  The pilot announced that there was a problem with something.  We waited about 20 minutes and then 2 white men in yellow vests came into the cockpit.  Another 20 minutes elapsed and the pilot announced that they were going to deplane.

I asked the check in girl if there was a bar a restaurant in the terminal.  She said there was, but it was only going to take 10 minutes--that they were just recycling the air in the cabin.  Well, the security to get on the plane was high, so the board process would be at least another 30 minutes.  So off I headed.  Lagos has a pretty nice bar in that terminal.  I asked if I could pay for a beer in Euros and ordered a Star.  While I was fishing out a bill, a guy next to me whipped out a N500 note and plopped it down.  So he bought it for me.  He is a South African white guy (2/3 of the people in the bar were white) who works on an offshore drilling rig.  We chatted and he asked if I wanted another beer.  I said I better go check the status of my flight.  No line up.  I asked the girl who told me 10 minutes.  This time she said there was a problem getting at the part.  So it's safe to have another beer?  She recommended a coffee--strong and black.  Hmmm.... This sounds like it's going to take a while.  Beer #2.  More chatting with Basel.  Then Basel had his flight so he left.  I went back to the same girl.  She was there with another guy and they were joking and having fun.  I asked for an update.  The plane was going to be replaced by a plane still in the air coming from Abuja.  It was 10pm.  She said we'd take off at 11pm.  The man said no way.  I agreed with the man.  He said we was a mechanical engineer and there was no way we'd be off by 11.  I said I was an electrical engineer and I agreed with the mechanical engineer.  The girl said she had a degree in engineering technology.  Then she and the guy started negotiating a bet.  But I laid out a timeline and convinced her we wouldn't make it.  I apologized to the mechanical engineer for ruining his sure bet.

Since I now knew we had time, I decided to whip out the laptop over a third beer.  The bar there has free WiFi.  So I was on the finally on internet for a while.

At about 11:15 I headed back to the plane. Almost everyone was boarded.  My timing was perfect.  I caught the tail end of the boarding process.  The flight was short.  Virgin Nigeria has one particular food-this sort of ground beef wrapped in a spiral of pastry that comes in a long white box with a goofy hinge.  It's horrible.  I wouldn't feed it to a dog.  But that was my meal on the second leg.

We landed and I went through immigration.  After I got through, the officer called me back and took my passport again.  I'm not sure why.  But there were no problems.  I waited for my luggage.  But it didn't come.  Crap!  And it was past midnight already.

I filled out a form at the lost luggage area.  Then headed out to get a cab.

As soon as I left, a guy asked if I wanted a cab.  Yep.  I told him where I was going--the Date Hotel.  GH¢15.  GH¢15?!  That's ridiculous.  He said it's a fixed price and could show me.  He reached into a car and grabbed a piece of paper.  I told him that having a piece of paper isn't a fixed price list unless it's posted in the vehicle.  OK, how much would you pay?  GH¢2000.  They didn't like that.  So I left.  A little further out are the real taxi cabs--the yellow ones with numbers.  One of them offered to take me for GH¢7.  No way--too high.  I said I would just spend the night there in the airport and turned around.  He called me back.  Again I started at GH¢2.  We finally got to GH¢5 from me and GH¢6 from them.  I stood firm until they gave in.  So I went for GH¢5.  Later I would ask my hotel desk clerk and a couple from the US I would meet at Ryan's Irish pub and they would tell me that GH¢5 or 6 is about right.  Gee, I'm getting better at this negotiating thing.

But, the Date was full.  I looked at their calendar and pointed at the circle around the 12 and said that it was me.  He apologized.  I got out and headed north.  Now it was close to 1am.  There I was walking in Adabraka at 1am.  I passed the Niagara Hotel and they had rooms, but the price was too high.  He agreed to come down from US$55 to US$30 since it was already 1am.  Still too high.  I left to go to the Busy Internet cafe.  I had apparently left my book there at the Niagara and the desk guy followed me in a cab to return it to me.  Very nice of him.  The cab took me to the Busy Internet cafe and then it had to take the desk guy back to the Niagara.  They charged me GH¢4 for that.  Oh well.

I was on the internet all night.  Then at 6am I left.  I tried a few other hotels but they were booked up as well.  It turns out I did the right thing my just going to the internet cafe.  Finally, I went to the President Hotel and just left my laptop there behind the desk while I headed out to Osu.  I was hot and sweaty and knew Frankie's would have AC, cold water, and pastries.  I walked there and got a bit lost, but not too lost.  It was too early for pastries.  But the water was refreshing and the coffee wasn't bad.  I was feeling better already.

I left and walked through Osu and found a guy who tried to sell me these bracelets with my name on them in African colors.  I decided to pick up a couple.  He had me write the names.  It's an interesting process watching them put the name in.  They made a misspelling and had to back track.  I went off for a while. When I returned, there was another misspelling, so they had to fix that.  Then about a half hour later I returned and picked them up.  Only GH¢5 for both of them.  Not bad.  Other vendors tried to get me to buy stuff.  But they weren't successful.

What was I doing while the bracelet guys were misspelling names?  That the topic of my next post.

Monday, December 15, 7:12 Ghana local time