Sunday, Oct. 11, Accra
Then there's the time when the trip ends. Inevitably, it leads to retrospection. There's been some truly wonderful moments – taking in the bustling, chaotic scenery of Accra for the first time, goofing off with kids who just want to be your best friend, inhaling the African air a hundred feet above the rainforest floor. And then there are there are the bizarre things you won't forget – watching Nigerian soap operas on a bus as it weaves through two-way traffic, swimming through a sea of Africans in an overflowing market, drinking coconut milk straight from the fruit, sleeping in a beach-side house in a country recovering from war, eating food that contains things you can't pronounce. Most importantly, however, there are the genuine moments – the things that spark new friendships, deep conversations, and dreams of what could be. Three weeks in Africa. This is what I had hoped for.
It seems that on overseas trips, two weeks feels like a visit. Three weeks and you start to feel settled in. That's where I am right now. But we leave tomorrow night. I'll miss West Africa – its beauty and vibrancy, its problems and potentials. But I'm thankful for the people I've met and the experiences I've had. It's a place you can't visit just once.
Since writing my last post. A few things have happened worth noting. The first is that on our last night in Liberia as I slept on the floor with couch cushions, I was suddenly awakened when I felt something scramble across my leg. I woke up startled, but the room was pitch black and I couldn't see what it was. Others were sleeping in the room, so I used a cell phone light to investigate, but didn't find anything. Later, I told Al about this and he said he had the same thing happen to him – but he found the culprit: a cockroach. I can only assume the worst. Somehow I went back to sleep.
That morning, we drove to the airport. One of the odd things about airports in West Africa is that there seems to be a hundred airport staff on duty doing little or nothing. But the one thing this ensures is that at least one or two people will check your passport. In this case, it was nine people. I counted them. First the guy outside the airport, then the guy at the entrance to security, then the woman at the desk to check in to the check-in line, then the woman at the check-in desk who sent you to another desk with another woman to check your passport, then the guy to get in the immigration officer line, then the immigration officer, then the guy at the entrance to the second security line, then the woman before you board the plane. Nine people. Glad I didn't forget my passport.
But after all that, we sat in the terminal for about four hours. Our flight was delayed for “administrative reasons” we were told. The truth eventually came out: There was a disagreement over whether the airline, Virgin Nigeria, had paid the Liberia airport all the fees due. Not sure who is to blame – the Liberian airport folks or the airline people. Either way, our morning flight turned into a late afternoon flight.
In Accra, we said goodbye to Okorie and Viashima, who went on to Nigeria. That night, we dined at the Pizza Inn where we've become regulars (or something close to it). Tomorrow we pack up. Thank you for all your thoughts and prayers.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Leaving Africa
Blog update 8 – Sunday, Oct. 11, Accra
Then there's the time when the trip ends. Inevitably, it leads to retrospection. There's been some truly wonderful moments – taking in the bustling, chaotic scenery of Accra for the first time, goofing off with kids who just want to be your best friend, inhaling the African air a hundred feet above the rainforest floor. And then there are there are the bizarre things you won't forget – watching Nigerian soap operas on a bus as it weaves through two-way traffic, swimming through a sea of Africans in an overflowing market, drinking coconut milk straight from the fruit, sleeping in a beach-side house in a country recovering from war, eating food that contains things you can't pronounce. Most importantly, however, there are the genuine moments – the things that spark new friendships, deep conversations, and dreams of what could be. Three weeks in Africa. This is what I had hoped for.
It seems that on overseas trips, two weeks feels like a visit. Three weeks and you start to feel settled in. That's where I am right now. But we leave tomorrow night. I'll miss West Africa – its beauty and vibrancy, its problems and potentials. But I'm thankful for the people I've met and the experiences I've had. It's a place you can't visit just once.
Since writing my last post. A few things have happened worth noting. The first is that on our last night in Liberia as I slept on the floor with couch cushions, I was suddenly awakened when I felt something scramble across my leg. I woke up startled, but the room was pitch black and I couldn't see what it was. Others were sleeping in the room, so I used a cell phone light to investigate, but didn't find anything. Later, I told Al about this and he said he had the same thing happen to him – but he found the culprit: a cockroach. I can only assume the worst. Somehow I went back to sleep.
That morning, we drove to the airport. One of the odd things about airports in West Africa is that there seems to be a hundred airport staff on duty doing little or nothing. But the one thing this ensures is that at least one or two people will check your passport. In this case, it was nine people. I counted them. First the guy outside the airport, then the guy at the entrance to security, then the woman at the desk to check in to the check-in line, then the woman at the check-in desk who sent you to another desk with another woman to check your passport, then the guy to get in the immigration officer line, then the immigration officer, then the guy at the entrance to the second security line, then the woman before you board the plane. Nine people. Glad I didn't forget my passport.
But after all that, we sat in the terminal for about four hours. Our flight was delayed for “administrative reasons” we were told. The truth eventually came out: There was a disagreement over whether the airline, Virgin Nigeria, had paid the Liberia airport all the fees due. Not sure who is to blame – the Liberian airport folks or the airline people. Either way, our morning flight turned into a late afternoon flight.
In Accra, we said goodbye to Okorie and Viashima, who went on to Nigeria. That night, we dined at the Pizza Inn where we've become regulars (or something close to it). Tomorrow we pack up. Thank you for all your thoughts and prayers.
Then there's the time when the trip ends. Inevitably, it leads to retrospection. There's been some truly wonderful moments – taking in the bustling, chaotic scenery of Accra for the first time, goofing off with kids who just want to be your best friend, inhaling the African air a hundred feet above the rainforest floor. And then there are there are the bizarre things you won't forget – watching Nigerian soap operas on a bus as it weaves through two-way traffic, swimming through a sea of Africans in an overflowing market, drinking coconut milk straight from the fruit, sleeping in a beach-side house in a country recovering from war, eating food that contains things you can't pronounce. Most importantly, however, there are the genuine moments – the things that spark new friendships, deep conversations, and dreams of what could be. Three weeks in Africa. This is what I had hoped for.
It seems that on overseas trips, two weeks feels like a visit. Three weeks and you start to feel settled in. That's where I am right now. But we leave tomorrow night. I'll miss West Africa – its beauty and vibrancy, its problems and potentials. But I'm thankful for the people I've met and the experiences I've had. It's a place you can't visit just once.
Since writing my last post. A few things have happened worth noting. The first is that on our last night in Liberia as I slept on the floor with couch cushions, I was suddenly awakened when I felt something scramble across my leg. I woke up startled, but the room was pitch black and I couldn't see what it was. Others were sleeping in the room, so I used a cell phone light to investigate, but didn't find anything. Later, I told Al about this and he said he had the same thing happen to him – but he found the culprit: a cockroach. I can only assume the worst. Somehow I went back to sleep.
That morning, we drove to the airport. One of the odd things about airports in West Africa is that there seems to be a hundred airport staff on duty doing little or nothing. But the one thing this ensures is that at least one or two people will check your passport. In this case, it was nine people. I counted them. First the guy outside the airport, then the guy at the entrance to security, then the woman at the desk to check in to the check-in line, then the woman at the check-in desk who sent you to another desk with another woman to check your passport, then the guy to get in the immigration officer line, then the immigration officer, then the guy at the entrance to the second security line, then the woman before you board the plane. Nine people. Glad I didn't forget my passport.
But after all that, we sat in the terminal for about four hours. Our flight was delayed for “administrative reasons” we were told. The truth eventually came out: There was a disagreement over whether the airline, Virgin Nigeria, had paid the Liberia airport all the fees due. Not sure who is to blame – the Liberian airport folks or the airline people. Either way, our morning flight turned into a late afternoon flight.
In Accra, we said goodbye to Okorie and Viashima, who went on to Nigeria. That night, we dined at the Pizza Inn where we've become regulars (or something close to it). Tomorrow we pack up. Thank you for all your thoughts and prayers.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Five days in Liberia...
Oct. 9, Friday, Monrovia, Liberia --
We flew into Liberia four days ago, but it seems like a few months ago. Each night, the six of us – Tom, Al, I, Okorie (the Navigator director for West African countries), his friend Viashima, and Joe (the Ghana director for the Navigators) – have slept in a different house. We've slept on mattresses and box springs, couches and floors. We fly out tomorrow night.
I'll try to sum up the week.
Tuesday: We arrived at Roberts International Airport in the late morning. The airport was pretty small and was built right next to the massive, sprawling Firestone plantation and factory. The plantation is basically its own institution in Liberia and the country's largest employer – thousands of acres of trees producing rubber and a huge and very smelly factory. As soon as we walked out of the airport, we walked into a huge downpour. The rest of the day were off and on downpours – even our hosts said they were surprised by how much it rained.
We drove down a very pot-holed road to a town called Cottontree, about an hour east of the capital, Monrovia. The houses there were rudimentary. We stayed at a pastor's house just off the main road. The bathroom was a hole in the ground in an outhouse. That evening I took a walk with Okorie through the town market. It was filled with hundreds of kids running around and crossing the street – and large trucks packed with young guys hanging off the back drove by at incredibly fast speeds. Not a good combination.
At night, we turned on the generator to power a couple fading lights and a rickety ceiling fan. Four people from the group crammed into one room to go to bed. I slept on the floor with a couple couch cushions.
Wednesday: We woke up early, founds some taxis and made the long drive to Monrovia. Taxis here are even more perilous than in Ghana. There are no seatbelts in the back seats and, on this day, the rain had flooded the roads in some places... but that didn't stop the taxi drivers from pushing 80 mph on two-lane roads.
We arrived at a house where one of the Liberia Navigators live. When I got out of the car, I was staring at a quaint house surrounded by green grass only a few dozen feet from a beautiful beach spotted with palm trees. Not too bad. We spent the day doing a lot of discussing and planning on the young Liberia effort with the Navigators.
Thursday: I slept in until 8 a.m. – by far, the latest I had slept during this whole trip. That day, we drove in taxis to an extremely crowded and hectic market called Red Light (it was named such because it was the first part of town to get a stop light, not because of other reasons...). In all, there were nine of us. So we took two more taxis to a government high school called the Booker T. Washington Institute. The drive was almost an hour, and I was crammed in the back seat of a taxi with three other people for the whole ride. As I would later found out, it's standard procedure to cram four in the back of a taxi in Liberia.
We had a good time touring the school, known for its academic excellence. We met with one of the administrators there and talked about forming a Navigators ministry there someday – he seemed very receptive to the idea. My favorite part, however, was when we were invited to sit down in a gazebo where the school choir was gathered. They performed a handful of amazing songs – about 40 young Liberians singing from the soul. It was powerful stuff.
Friday: We drove into downtown Monrovia, taking two roads named after former dictators: Doe Road and Tubman Blvd. We arrived at the University of Liberia and spent the afternoon touring the campus, meeting with a few people and praying for the students' future. It was heartening to see so much potential in a country that is still struggling to recover after 20 years of war.
Tomorrow morning we fly out back to Ghana. The Baptist Guest House in Accra wasn't that impressive when I first saw it, but now I'm looking forward to sleeping the Baptist Guest Palace.
We flew into Liberia four days ago, but it seems like a few months ago. Each night, the six of us – Tom, Al, I, Okorie (the Navigator director for West African countries), his friend Viashima, and Joe (the Ghana director for the Navigators) – have slept in a different house. We've slept on mattresses and box springs, couches and floors. We fly out tomorrow night.
I'll try to sum up the week.
Tuesday: We arrived at Roberts International Airport in the late morning. The airport was pretty small and was built right next to the massive, sprawling Firestone plantation and factory. The plantation is basically its own institution in Liberia and the country's largest employer – thousands of acres of trees producing rubber and a huge and very smelly factory. As soon as we walked out of the airport, we walked into a huge downpour. The rest of the day were off and on downpours – even our hosts said they were surprised by how much it rained.
We drove down a very pot-holed road to a town called Cottontree, about an hour east of the capital, Monrovia. The houses there were rudimentary. We stayed at a pastor's house just off the main road. The bathroom was a hole in the ground in an outhouse. That evening I took a walk with Okorie through the town market. It was filled with hundreds of kids running around and crossing the street – and large trucks packed with young guys hanging off the back drove by at incredibly fast speeds. Not a good combination.
At night, we turned on the generator to power a couple fading lights and a rickety ceiling fan. Four people from the group crammed into one room to go to bed. I slept on the floor with a couple couch cushions.
Wednesday: We woke up early, founds some taxis and made the long drive to Monrovia. Taxis here are even more perilous than in Ghana. There are no seatbelts in the back seats and, on this day, the rain had flooded the roads in some places... but that didn't stop the taxi drivers from pushing 80 mph on two-lane roads.
We arrived at a house where one of the Liberia Navigators live. When I got out of the car, I was staring at a quaint house surrounded by green grass only a few dozen feet from a beautiful beach spotted with palm trees. Not too bad. We spent the day doing a lot of discussing and planning on the young Liberia effort with the Navigators.
Thursday: I slept in until 8 a.m. – by far, the latest I had slept during this whole trip. That day, we drove in taxis to an extremely crowded and hectic market called Red Light (it was named such because it was the first part of town to get a stop light, not because of other reasons...). In all, there were nine of us. So we took two more taxis to a government high school called the Booker T. Washington Institute. The drive was almost an hour, and I was crammed in the back seat of a taxi with three other people for the whole ride. As I would later found out, it's standard procedure to cram four in the back of a taxi in Liberia.
We had a good time touring the school, known for its academic excellence. We met with one of the administrators there and talked about forming a Navigators ministry there someday – he seemed very receptive to the idea. My favorite part, however, was when we were invited to sit down in a gazebo where the school choir was gathered. They performed a handful of amazing songs – about 40 young Liberians singing from the soul. It was powerful stuff.
Friday: We drove into downtown Monrovia, taking two roads named after former dictators: Doe Road and Tubman Blvd. We arrived at the University of Liberia and spent the afternoon touring the campus, meeting with a few people and praying for the students' future. It was heartening to see so much potential in a country that is still struggling to recover after 20 years of war.
Tomorrow morning we fly out back to Ghana. The Baptist Guest House in Accra wasn't that impressive when I first saw it, but now I'm looking forward to sleeping the Baptist Guest Palace.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Trip to the Accra beach
Oct. 5, Monday, Accra
Today was kind of a slow day – a chance to relax and prepare before our trip to Liberia early tomorrow morning. So I decided to take a taxi to the beach by myself and check it out. Most of the beaches lining Accra are pretty filthy, since that's where the city's trash and sewage is dumped. But there is a nice strip of beach that is well-preserved near the southeastern end of the city. It's also where some of the biggest tourist hotels are located.
I headed over there shortly after lunch, paid one cedi (less than a dollar) to get in, and took a walk down the shoreline. It was relatively crowded near the hotels, with mostly Ghanians and some Europeans hanging out. Some guys were playing soccer on the beach with tires as goals. As I started straying from the crowd, three young guys walked up to me to say hi. One of them was holding a large rock.
“Hello. I am selling this,” he said with a smile, holding up the rock.
I played along. “How much?” I asked.
“two cedis.”
“Hmm... too much. Twenty pesewas,” I said, offering the equivalent of about 15 cents.
We haggled for a while. Then I leveled with them: I didn't want the rock. They smiled, gave me a fist pound, and said “peace!” as they walked away.
Later, I found a nice spot on a beach cafe and hung out reading a book for a while. I met some guys smoking a joint and they seemed eager to get to know me. “Let me know what you want. Anything you need, I can help you,” one of them told me. I went back to reading my book.
The beach was pretty nice, but the city has a serious garbage issue. The tide line had a nice film of trash that kind of ruined the beach experience. This isn't much of a surprise considering tons of trash is dumped into the water only so it can wash ashore again. They seemed to try to clean it up a bit near the hotels, but it was still pretty bad.
Yesterday we did about five hours of driving heading west to the town of Swedru and back. It was a great time meeting some of the people involved in the Navigators ministry over there, but also a lot of traveling. It was the second day I went without lunch – about 12 hours without food – and I ate close to a whole pizza last night, which for me is a lot. So now it's time to rest up, eat and get ready for the next four days.
Today was kind of a slow day – a chance to relax and prepare before our trip to Liberia early tomorrow morning. So I decided to take a taxi to the beach by myself and check it out. Most of the beaches lining Accra are pretty filthy, since that's where the city's trash and sewage is dumped. But there is a nice strip of beach that is well-preserved near the southeastern end of the city. It's also where some of the biggest tourist hotels are located.
I headed over there shortly after lunch, paid one cedi (less than a dollar) to get in, and took a walk down the shoreline. It was relatively crowded near the hotels, with mostly Ghanians and some Europeans hanging out. Some guys were playing soccer on the beach with tires as goals. As I started straying from the crowd, three young guys walked up to me to say hi. One of them was holding a large rock.
“Hello. I am selling this,” he said with a smile, holding up the rock.
I played along. “How much?” I asked.
“two cedis.”
“Hmm... too much. Twenty pesewas,” I said, offering the equivalent of about 15 cents.
We haggled for a while. Then I leveled with them: I didn't want the rock. They smiled, gave me a fist pound, and said “peace!” as they walked away.
Later, I found a nice spot on a beach cafe and hung out reading a book for a while. I met some guys smoking a joint and they seemed eager to get to know me. “Let me know what you want. Anything you need, I can help you,” one of them told me. I went back to reading my book.
The beach was pretty nice, but the city has a serious garbage issue. The tide line had a nice film of trash that kind of ruined the beach experience. This isn't much of a surprise considering tons of trash is dumped into the water only so it can wash ashore again. They seemed to try to clean it up a bit near the hotels, but it was still pretty bad.
Yesterday we did about five hours of driving heading west to the town of Swedru and back. It was a great time meeting some of the people involved in the Navigators ministry over there, but also a lot of traveling. It was the second day I went without lunch – about 12 hours without food – and I ate close to a whole pizza last night, which for me is a lot. So now it's time to rest up, eat and get ready for the next four days.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Shishkabob at a French restaurant in Ghana, and other adventures
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Speeding on the bus
Tuesday, Sept. 29 -- Somewhere between Accra and Cape Coast
I'm on the bus traveling from Accra to another coastal city, Cape Coast. It's about a two-hour drive along a rural road with one lane for each direction. We just passed a bright red sign that said “13 curves ahead - 12 persons dead here.” There are other warning signs about speeding, but we're going too fast for me to read them.
It's a big bus, but that hasn't stopped the bus driver from making some pretty intense passing maneuvers. Apparently the opposing traffic knows they have to slow down or drive onto the shoulder – which I've watched happen several times so far. This reminds me of a story I recently wrote about how Highway 41 from Fresno to Yosemite is a dangerous two-lane road with many fatal accidents over the years... suddenly it doesn't seem so bad. I was reading the main daily here, The Daily Graphic, at the bus station this morning and it had an article about a new medical center that recently opened, strategically located along our route “because of the high rate of vehicle accidents on the Accra to Cape Coast road.” I hope you got all this, Mom.
Anyway, as they say in Africa. This Is Africa. You shrug, smile, and hope for the best.
While I'm on the subject, I should mention that my travel doctor told me before my trip that you can immunize yourself to every single disease in the world but that still won't stop you from the biggest killer in foreign countries – vehicle accidents. Despite this fact, all of the taxis in Accra stuff the backseat seatbelts into the seat cushions because, apparently, no one ever uses them.
We're going to Cape Coast to visit some of Tom's friends. He spent nearly 10 years there in the 1980s and 1990s. We also hope to visit the Cape Coast Castle, where many African slaves had to pass through before being boarded on to ships bound for America. We also plan to visit the Katum National Park and go on its canopy walk. From what I understand, you walk along a rickety walkway 100 feet high and get to see the forest from a unique perspective.
A recurring theme on this trip so far has been the unknown. Starting off, we didn't know where we were going to stay, what we were going to do after the conference, who we were going to meet up with, or what, exactly, we were going to see. We had some general plans, but nothing in stone. Part of the problem is that you can do as much pre-trip planning as you want, but it's hard to nail down exact plans in a polychronic culture, and even if you do, they always change. Thankfully, it's all worked out pretty well so far. Al and I agreed yesterday that one thing is sure so far: We certainly haven't had a boring day.
Yesterday was a perfect example. We started the day with the plan to see a three-story building that was being constructed and will eventually become the Navigators' office. When Tom was here 20 or so years ago, he bought the property for $30,000 and gave it to the Navigators so they could build an office there. Construction finally began a few years ago. Now, with about $200,000 spent and another $200,000 needed to complete it, the structure is halfway there – with iron rods sticking out in every direction. We took a tour, navigating around bamboo poles, picking our way through piles of construction blocks, and ducking under wires and rebarb. OSHA would not be happy.
After the tour, we visited the Tulip Hotel. It's a fancy place that caters to tourists and has a huge pool. One of the Navigators leaders – Charles – is a manager there. We enjoyed a delicious buffet (for free) with Charles. We didn't have any clear plans after that, but we ended up meeting with a man named Tom Peterson, who has traveled to Ghana regularly since the early 1990s to help out the Christian medical community. He is also heavily involved in the Navigator's building project since two of the floors will be used for a diagnostics lab – a service that is desperately needed in Ghana because doctors often are unable to let patients know why they are sick without adequate diagnostics. The dream is to help provide a service while at the same time creating a place where Christian medical students can work instead of moving to Europe or the states, where there are many more healthcare jobs. In the past, that has caused not only brain drain, but also the lost of strong Christian influences in the community.
After meeting with Tom, all of us met up with Charles to talk about the project. The main challenge at this point is finding $200,000 to complete the building. It was a good conversation with some actions plans for the future.
We've passed about a dozen Obama billboards on the way over here... of course they have proliferated all over the city since his visit this summer. The president here, Jonathan Mills, hasn't hesitated to capitalize on the visit by posting billboards of him and Obama together. Almost in town, will write later...
I'm on the bus traveling from Accra to another coastal city, Cape Coast. It's about a two-hour drive along a rural road with one lane for each direction. We just passed a bright red sign that said “13 curves ahead - 12 persons dead here.” There are other warning signs about speeding, but we're going too fast for me to read them.
It's a big bus, but that hasn't stopped the bus driver from making some pretty intense passing maneuvers. Apparently the opposing traffic knows they have to slow down or drive onto the shoulder – which I've watched happen several times so far. This reminds me of a story I recently wrote about how Highway 41 from Fresno to Yosemite is a dangerous two-lane road with many fatal accidents over the years... suddenly it doesn't seem so bad. I was reading the main daily here, The Daily Graphic, at the bus station this morning and it had an article about a new medical center that recently opened, strategically located along our route “because of the high rate of vehicle accidents on the Accra to Cape Coast road.” I hope you got all this, Mom.
Anyway, as they say in Africa. This Is Africa. You shrug, smile, and hope for the best.
While I'm on the subject, I should mention that my travel doctor told me before my trip that you can immunize yourself to every single disease in the world but that still won't stop you from the biggest killer in foreign countries – vehicle accidents. Despite this fact, all of the taxis in Accra stuff the backseat seatbelts into the seat cushions because, apparently, no one ever uses them.
We're going to Cape Coast to visit some of Tom's friends. He spent nearly 10 years there in the 1980s and 1990s. We also hope to visit the Cape Coast Castle, where many African slaves had to pass through before being boarded on to ships bound for America. We also plan to visit the Katum National Park and go on its canopy walk. From what I understand, you walk along a rickety walkway 100 feet high and get to see the forest from a unique perspective.
A recurring theme on this trip so far has been the unknown. Starting off, we didn't know where we were going to stay, what we were going to do after the conference, who we were going to meet up with, or what, exactly, we were going to see. We had some general plans, but nothing in stone. Part of the problem is that you can do as much pre-trip planning as you want, but it's hard to nail down exact plans in a polychronic culture, and even if you do, they always change. Thankfully, it's all worked out pretty well so far. Al and I agreed yesterday that one thing is sure so far: We certainly haven't had a boring day.
Yesterday was a perfect example. We started the day with the plan to see a three-story building that was being constructed and will eventually become the Navigators' office. When Tom was here 20 or so years ago, he bought the property for $30,000 and gave it to the Navigators so they could build an office there. Construction finally began a few years ago. Now, with about $200,000 spent and another $200,000 needed to complete it, the structure is halfway there – with iron rods sticking out in every direction. We took a tour, navigating around bamboo poles, picking our way through piles of construction blocks, and ducking under wires and rebarb. OSHA would not be happy.
After the tour, we visited the Tulip Hotel. It's a fancy place that caters to tourists and has a huge pool. One of the Navigators leaders – Charles – is a manager there. We enjoyed a delicious buffet (for free) with Charles. We didn't have any clear plans after that, but we ended up meeting with a man named Tom Peterson, who has traveled to Ghana regularly since the early 1990s to help out the Christian medical community. He is also heavily involved in the Navigator's building project since two of the floors will be used for a diagnostics lab – a service that is desperately needed in Ghana because doctors often are unable to let patients know why they are sick without adequate diagnostics. The dream is to help provide a service while at the same time creating a place where Christian medical students can work instead of moving to Europe or the states, where there are many more healthcare jobs. In the past, that has caused not only brain drain, but also the lost of strong Christian influences in the community.
After meeting with Tom, all of us met up with Charles to talk about the project. The main challenge at this point is finding $200,000 to complete the building. It was a good conversation with some actions plans for the future.
We've passed about a dozen Obama billboards on the way over here... of course they have proliferated all over the city since his visit this summer. The president here, Jonathan Mills, hasn't hesitated to capitalize on the visit by posting billboards of him and Obama together. Almost in town, will write later...
Sunday, September 27, 2009
missed facebook updates
Unfortunately we haven't had Internet access until now (and my cell doesn't work overseas), so here's some facebook status updates that I've missed out on:
Wednesday, 10 p.m. – “arrived safe in Ghana after 24 hours of traveling … tired”
Thursday, 3 a.m. – “wide awake... what time is it?”
Thursday, 6 a.m. - “awesome African sunrise”
Thursday, 1 p.m. – “chicken and rice. Not bad at all”
Thursday, 9 p.m. – “had a great chat with a young Ghana guy. The country needs people like him”
Friday, 5 a.m. - “I guess I'll get up now...”
Friday, 1 p.m. - “Fried plantains are worth the trip alone”
Friday, 3:30 p.m. - “Insane rain.... desperately looking for a bearded guy named Noah”
Friday, 6 p.m. - “on the lookout for 4-inch scorpions...”
Saturday, 6 a.m. - “sipping Ghana instant coffee while sitting under gazebo doing some reading”
Saturday, 1:30 p.m. - “Yams... not yummy, but the spinach topping is good”
Saturday, 7 p.m. - “learning native Ghana language, Twi”
Sunday, 7 p.m. - "in Accra proper, eating cheeseburger at Honeysuckle Pub"
Wednesday, 10 p.m. – “arrived safe in Ghana after 24 hours of traveling … tired”
Thursday, 3 a.m. – “wide awake... what time is it?”
Thursday, 6 a.m. - “awesome African sunrise”
Thursday, 1 p.m. – “chicken and rice. Not bad at all”
Thursday, 9 p.m. – “had a great chat with a young Ghana guy. The country needs people like him”
Friday, 5 a.m. - “I guess I'll get up now...”
Friday, 1 p.m. - “Fried plantains are worth the trip alone”
Friday, 3:30 p.m. - “Insane rain.... desperately looking for a bearded guy named Noah”
Friday, 6 p.m. - “on the lookout for 4-inch scorpions...”
Saturday, 6 a.m. - “sipping Ghana instant coffee while sitting under gazebo doing some reading”
Saturday, 1:30 p.m. - “Yams... not yummy, but the spinach topping is good”
Saturday, 7 p.m. - “learning native Ghana language, Twi”
Sunday, 7 p.m. - "in Accra proper, eating cheeseburger at Honeysuckle Pub"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
