Oct. 3, Saturday - Accra
Here's the problem with keeping a travel blog: If you slack off for a few days, the next thing you know you have half a book to write and you never have enough energy to write it all. So instead, you procrastinate to the next day, and … you can see where this is going. So here's my desperate attempt to catch up.
The trip to Cape Coast was fantastic. On Tuesday our bus arrived safely and pulled in at the bus station, right next to the large billboard with a detailed break-down of accident statistics in recent years. Uncle Yao, a 61-year-old former professor at Cape Coast University, picked us up. Uncle Yao reminds me of some colorful character out of some classic book that I may have read... someone so unique and unforgettable that he's hard to describe. So I won't bother. But it's enough to say that he grows his own food and eats three garlic cloves and three carrots a day so that his hairline won't recede, which seems to have worked so far.
We spent the day visiting various people who Tom had gotten to know during the years he lived in Cape Coast, mostly in the 1980s. We spent our evening at the home of the Bartells. Cecilia is a precious lady in her 80s, and her husband Victor turned 89 on Wednesday. They warmly welcomed us into their home and fed us some great food. I was stuffed after two plate-fulls, but Victor told me that I had to take thirds unless I could tell him where in the Bible it said that I shouldn't eat the food that's in front of me. “Man should not live on bread alone....” did the trick. Desert was fresh fruit, which in the states is considered a fruit salad but here is desert because it tastes must sweeter, much fresher.
The next morning we woke up, had breakfast at our hotel, which included sparkling grape cider (after a while, you don't bother to ask), and headed off to Kakum National Forest. There we went on a guided tour on the canopy walk. We walked along a narrow bridge from tree to tree, about 100 feet up in the air. You could see the whole rain forest. We spotted bright red butterflies and took in the view. Definitely a highlight.
Then we went to the Cape Coast Castle, famous for its Door of No Return. It's also one of the places Obama visited in July, and the six billboards outside of the castle featuring Obama made that clear. If you go the Ghana, be sure to go to the castle. It's a spectacular place to visit both structurally and historically (some 400+ years old). But more importantly, the guided tour brings you into the underbelly of both the castle (literally) and the history of colonialism and the slave trade. A trip down to the slave dungeon will give you a new perspective on the inhumanity of slavery.
We headed back to Accra that afternoon, watching Nigerian soap operas played on the bus on the way. It was good to be home... home? It suddenly felt that way after the Cape Coast trip.
Al and I had been looking forward to Thursday for some time. Tom had a handful of people he was going to meet with at the Baptist Guest House where we are staying. Meanwhile, Al and I spent the day exploring Accra. It's a city full of life, and I think we captured about as much of that life as you can in one day.
We started off in the morning with about a two mile walk from the guest house to and through a street market called the Osu Market, stopping by a fair trade store called Global Mamas, picking up some souvenirs there and also from some outdoor vendors. The roads were clogged with traffic, but we managed to maneuver our way around. On a map of Accra, we saw a large place called the International Fair Trade Center. Looked interesting, so we took a taxi there. The taxi driver was a cool guy. He told us he had seen Al and I walking around town three times in the last few days. Apparently we were the talk of the taxi driver community (there's white people around, but very few of them walk around, preferring instead to hide in tourist hotels or take taxis. Their loss.). We got to the trade center, entered the gate, and... nothing. The place was deserted. Turns out it's a fairgrounds of sort, and the circus was not in town. In fact, nothing was going on at all. So the same taxi driver took us to the arts center, which he said is where all the tourists go to do tourists shopping. Why not. As we pulled in, our driver warned us: “Just so you know, when you get out, people will swarm you.”
“My friend! My friend!” We instantly had many, many friends. It felt great to be popular, but slightly overwhelming. I made it clear I was on a mission and only was interested in certain things. One thing you should know about Al, however, is that he is much less cold-hearted than I am, so he really did make some friends. The next thing I knew we were sitting in some shed listening to a bunch of guys beat on some African drums.
When that was over, I made my way through the stalls, making new friends at a rate of about two or three per second as I marched by the vendors. Finally I found a woman with some tie-dye fabric. We haggled, eventually settling on a price about a third of what she originally asked for... still too much. I bought a few more things there, though Al stayed busy making new friends. An hour later, we hugged all our new friends good bye and left. It was very emotional.
We trudged on, walking about half a mile to the Makola Market. This is a huge, sprawling street market that takes up a small section of the city. We spent a few hours there, navigating our way through the thousands of people crowding the sidewalks and roads. During our entire time there, I spotted only two other white people. This was not a tourist spot... exactly what we were hoping for. On one of the blocks was a place called Yum Yum Fast Food. The chef/waitress gave us our options (no menus here): fish, chicken, or banku. I had no idea what banku was, so I ordered that. It was pretty sour, and pretty gross. But I ate enough to fill the hole in my stomach.
After lunch, we stopped at a coconut stand where some guy stood next to a cart of coconuts and hacked away at them all day with a hatchet. For the equivalent of about 35 cents, you could get your own coconut hacked open, drink the milk, and then have the guy hack it all the way open and scrape out the meat. Definitely good times.
Next stop, the memorial park for Ghana's first president. Actually, we thought it was the national museum, but didn't figure out that we were in wrong until after we paid the entrance fee. We did find out, however, that Ghana's first president apparently has the largest tombstone in the world... in fact, the massive monument built over his grave can be seen from miles away. There is also a statue of him, but his head is missing. Vandals got at it some years ago, and the memorial people decided it would be cheaper to call it a historical artifact and leave it that way rather than to repair it (my theory).
We eventually did find the national museum, though none of the taxi drivers knew where it was. In fact, there were a lot of things that the taxi drivers (other than that first guy) didn't know, like the names of the streets or how to read a map. Thankfully, I had happened to buy a map of the city from a vendor earlier in the day and was able to give directions to get there. The museum is nice, but nothing spectacular. Worth seeing if you have the time and are into museums.
We got home by dinnertime. What a day... what an amazing day. We walked about ¾ mile to a French restaurant that night for dinner. It turned out to be a half-decent place with an outdoor patio. The chicken shishkabob and fried plantains were spectacular. I slept well that night.
On Friday, we visited Joe, the Ghana Navigator director, at his house, and then traveled to a K-12 school that was started a few years ago by a longtime Ghana Navigator. The private Christian school is having a lot of success academically, and we thoroughly enjoyed our time interrupting classes and causing chaos in general. There was a circle of preschool kids sitting on plastic chairs outside under a tree, and one of the little girls waved at me. I went up to say hi and take her picture, which I think she thought was cool. The little guy next to her, however, took one look at my white, pale face and started crying. No one could console him.
Next, we went to an eye surgery clinic that opened a few years ago with the help of Navigator donors. It's run by a Ghanian named James who has been involved with the Navigators here for quite some time. There are very few eye clinics in Ghana, and this one has a great reputation, once even performing eye surgery on the former president of Ghana. Every Thursday, they offer their services for free and the clinic gets swamped. It's a great service, and a wonderful ministry.
That night, we met with the Navigators' “emerging leaders” – about 20 young people involved in various ministries. It was an encouraging time. One of the things I've enjoyed the most about this trip so far, is the new friends I've made (real friends... not people who just want to sell me stuff), and to hear about how they are influencing their co-workers, neighbors, and fellow students.
This brings us to today. Last weekend, we were invited to attend a wedding for the son of one of the longtime Ghana Navigators that Tom knows. I showed up in my sandals (it was either that or sneakers, and people really do wear sandals and dress clothes here...). The wedding turned out to be pretty amazing... one big party, really, with a bunch of musical performances and some fiery preaching on the meaning of marriage. Unfortunately, we couldn't stay for the reception.
We drove off to visit a man named Joe Chairmee who has worked with the Navigators here and in neighboring Burkina Faso. He was a high ranking Naval officer during the coup in the early 1980s, got thrown in prison, faced immanent execution several times, became a Christian, led a Bible study in prison for many years with dozens of people, witnessed some amazing things, was eventually released, and then spent the rest of his life telling others about how he has learned to trust God in every situation.
Then we drove home, walked to the French restaurant for dinner, and now it's time to go to bed.
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