My host mom owned a restaurant of sorts. In Ghana I believe it might be called a “chop bar.”
We simply called it the shop.
“Is Lizzy at the shop?”
“Oh, I’m just going to the shop real quick for dinner, then I’ll be back.”
“I’m gonna run down to the shop and talk to Lizzy.”
The shop was only a couple minutes walk from the house. You simply walk down the lovely dirt road until you hit the main road, and right across the street is Lizzy’s shop.
She pretty much only served Ghanaian dishes there, but she really tried hard to find things I’d like.
Here is “Maa Lizzy’s”:
The television (located in the corner of the shop on a plastic chair) was usually on all day. It was pretty static-y, and would become more so as big trucks drove by. Don’t ask me why a truck would affect the TV, but it did. Most of the time I was there the world cup was on. Ghanaians LOVE football [soccer]. (As a side note—the day Ghana beat the US was a very sad day indeed for me. I had talked up the US big time, and so I got a lot of “I told you so”s from my family and friends when we ended up losing...). Then in the evenings, in addition to the TV being on, the radio was usually turned on as well.