I finally met my Ghanaian roommate and boy does she know how to make an entrance. At around twelve thirty a.m. I heard a knock on my door and a loud, high pitched "hey girl, let me in, it's your roommate!" Caroline had arrived.

Caroline is much like a Ghanaian barbie- petite, and wrapped in pink. In Ghana, one might say she is "portable," which refers to anyone or anything that is cute and small. Caroline's boyfriend makes just as strong as an impression. He loves me because I am from Los Angeles, home of the Lakers and dozens of Maseratis. He gives me a long schpiel about how he likes Maseratis and Kobe Bryant but he does not like Lamar Odom because Lamar Odom married Chloe Kardashian and Chloe Kardashian is just jealous of her sister Kim because Kim is prettier. Oh really? I say. Yes, I watch E News, he firmly replies. I still do not know this man's name because he insists that I call him Kobe- surprise surprise.

She keenly notes that the Americans are rather poorly dressed and so she will take me shopping to get a proper wardrobe since I am apparently lacking all fashion sense. Yesterday she made "light soup" on our porch, filling the room with garlic and ginger. Last night I came home and she had cleaned my side of the room, made my bed, and ironed my pillow case. So begins my semester living with Caroline.

love from room 109,
m