The British Consulate advises against visiting two countries on the African continent: Cote D'Ivoire (aka Ivory Coast) and Somalia. Guess where I went this weekend? The forbidden Cote D'Ivoire and it was well worth the risk! I visited the Cote D'Ivoirian embassy in Accra to get a visa, which I discovered I did not actually need after the fact, but they still gladly accepted my 7,000 CFA (Central African franc) equivalent to 17.5 GH cedis or about $17.50 USD. Each time I went to try to get this visa I didn't actually need, I kept an eye on my watch to see just how long the woman at the desk ignored me. The form she gave me was in French and English but the English part was cut off along the edge so I had to guess as to what I had to write in the blanks. I had to try to interact with the woman, who spoke as little as possible to me, and became irritated because I couldn't follow the instructions because I was not raised in a Francophone country. She kept opening the sliding glass window from her chair with her pen and slamming the door shut each time she had to deal with me. I didn't have to write all of that, but it's just amusing how sometimes people in the world's easiest jobs such as this one can be so rude.
Enduring the rudeness and unnecessary visit to the Ivoirian embassy was a drop in the bucket compared to the next step in our journey: getting there. We (my friend Corinne, and two other girls I haven't traveled with, Aly and Meghan) had to take a STC bus to Abidjan, the economic capital of Cote D'Ivoire, which left at 4:00 AM and we had to report to the station at 3:00. We woke up at 2:00 and were at the station when were supposed to be, but the bus did not actually leave until 5:15 A.M. When we boarded the bus, the seats Corinne and I were assigned and their vicinity exuded a rather offensive odor. We were somewhat self-conscious for the first two hours of our journey because we kept thinking to ourselves, "Is that me?!" It smelled like we were sitting in the crotch of a marathon runner that did not bother to bathe for a week or so. We tried to mask the odor by dotting some vegan lip balm under our noses to smell cinnamon or citrus instead of crotch.
The bus ride was LONG. It took 14 hours in total to get there. But it was a beautiful ride, too. We rode along the entire coast of Ghana as we traveled west into Cote D'Ivoire and then winded, I mean sped way too fast for a bus full of people and bags of all the rice of Thailand, through the jungles and oil palm, rubber, banana, and pineapple plantations (you know, where there used to be rainforest? It's okay, multinational corporations, I mean the Cote D'Ivoirian people need rubber!) Evil.
From other people that had went to Cote D'Ivoire and from what I read about the country's instability I was a little apprehensive about going there. I heard that I would be hassled incessantly by guards and police and always asked for my passport and a bribe. I also worried about being mugged or even another civil war starting. Not long after crossing the Ivoirian border, our bus stopped because there was something in the road. All of a sudden, someone banged on the side of our bus with their fist and yelled, "Get off the bus! Everyone! Get off the bus now!" No one knew what was going on. I looked down the bus aisle from my seat and saw that there were people coming towards our bus from the opposite direction. I was freaking out inside, but I remained calm and did as the military man told us. It turned out that there was just a truck that had crashed into the bridge we were crossing, and it was easier for the bus to maneuver around the truck that was blocking a good deal of the road and was relieved of some of its weight so everyone got off. Thanks military man for scaring all of us. It wasn't that urgent!
By 8:30 PM, we were finally in Abidjan. It is a beautiful city. Cote D'Ivoire was the gem of Africa at one point in that it was economically strong because of its natural resources. The French definitely invested in infrastructure there and this was apparent because the city was developed. The city is on the water, where a river meets the ocean. It's very modern, and felt eerily like an American city, only right smack dab in the middle of West Africa. The city must have been spectacular in its heyday but when its stability faltered the French were like, "See ya lataaa, Cote D'Ivoire! Good luck!" and this is apparent in the dilapidation around the edges, and the urban poor surrounding the city.
I don't know if we just lucked out with our social experience in Cote D'Ivoire or what, but as soon as we got off the bus, we met amazing people. When we went to a hotel we saw in the guidebook as a budget option and were turned away, the person at the front desk help us get another hotel and even came out to our cab to tell the driver, in French, the directions to the hotel. When we reached our Hotel, Hotel Provencal, we were famished. We asked someone if she knew of a good restaurant we could go to at that hour. She piled into the cab with us, and took us to the restaurant she recommended, L'Automatique, which was diner-style Lebanese food. When we arrived at the place, she was going to go back in the cab to return to the hotel, but we told her that we would treat her to dinner because of our gratitude. Only one of us spoke French, not a whole lot, but more than enough to get us anything we might need. So it was an interesting time trying to communicate with Kathe, the French-speaking Moroccan woman, when 75% of us did not speak any French aside from things like, "Thank you!" and "Hello!" It was a great night actually. Great food (a protein bomb in my stomach!), and great, cross-cultural and -lingual interaction!
The next day, we woke up to explore the region of Treichville and other districts of the city. When we came downstairs from our octagonally-shaped rooms on the roof of the hotel, we met Jacque, an Ivoirian, who became our friend, and guide to Abidjan. We walked around and saw all kinds of crafts such as wooden carvings and beads. One man tried to sell me a single bead for 15,000 CFA ($37 USD) and then proceeded to try to convince me that it was a good price. Thanks, but no thanks. We bought some corn on the cob while walking around on the streets, and one lady took the cob out of Meghan's hand, broke it in half, took half, and gave the other half to Meghan, all without asking her for it. Because the city is broken up by the lagoon, there is a ferry service that allows people to easily get from one part of a city to another. We took this ferry and enjoyed the salt air and seeing a different perspective of the city. I asked a passenger to take a picture of the four of us while we were on the ferry. I handed the camera to her and she had it facing the wrong way, the lens facing her, so I saw as she drew it closer to her, her eye grow enormous and staring in the screen. I can't describe it well, but it was hilarious. Just take my word for it, okay? We had a small meal at La Caravalle, another Lebanese restaurant (I don't think you understand how tired we are of rice and other starch readily available in Ghana) and had some Lebanese dessert (basboosa!). Amazing. We then continued our walk and stumbled across a Muslim community. There was a huge green and white mosque and an street with a series of stalls which sold the Qu'ran, prayer mats, and other Muslim wares. It was a beautiful site. We talked with the people hanging around there and looked at the things, unfamiliar to our own lives, that the vendors were selling. I felt very far away from home because of these differences and the poverty in this area, as we watched life go by.
It was great to meet someone that could take us around the city. Jacque was a character for sure. How could you not love his thick African French accent? He spoke enough English to be able to communicate with us, but there were still some awkward English. "I am strong, but I will not fight...unless I'm hungry." I guess that made sense in context, but it was a strange way of saying things. And also, (I've heard this twice), something that seems to get lost in translation: "Are you boring?" This was directed at me, when I was standing in the group of my friends and not speaking so instead of saying "Are you bored?", "Are you boring?" was used instead. Yeah, don't mind me, I'm just standing here without any hobbies. On a more serious note, Meghan asked Jacque about what he remembered about the war. He told us that the hotel, where he works, is near a police training academy. At commencement, the graduates of the academy shoot guns into the air at the ceremony. One night, Jacque heard gunshots in the middle of the night, and thought that it was from the academy, and went back to sleep. However, it was the beginning of the civil war. Jacque could not leave the hotel for his house for three days because of the violence happening down on the streets. Cote D'Ivoire is said to be a violent place. Hearing this story in addition to hearing about the political system there and how the people have been promised an election that never came for several years, and are worse off financially because of what happened with the war, I can understand why this country would be so volatile. People are fed up.
On Monday, we went to see this outdoor laundrette where about 275 Burkinabe people gather in a river near the Parc du Banco (a park you should not go to by yourself because there are several convicts hiding out there...) to wash clothing. Jacque took us to see this. It was neat to see, but I felt a little voyeuristic. We then went to visit St. Paul's Cathedral which was made of white stucco with a blue roof and a huge swirling spire which ("the finger of God" we called it) made it an impressive monument on the hill overlooking the city. This beautiful and immense cathedral was located amidst abject poverty, which again questions the need for such ornate and expensive architecture for a place of worship, when the surrounding community is suffering so much. The houses of the villages were so close together, and some were perched on the edge of a mud cliff that would probably be gone the next time it rained.
The rest of the day (btw it was Corinne's birthday on Monday!) was spent exploring the Le Plateau district. It was a very chic part of Abidjan with cafes and successful business, and trees lining the streets. We went to get some traditional Ivoirian food for lunch, which is very similar to Ghanaian food. I had some grated cassava, which looked and tasted like tangy couscous. I asked for something vegan in the best way I could, and I got some vegetables floating in a meat and/or fish-filled broth. The concept of vegetarianism is not understood here. If you say you do not eat meat or fish, they will give you something that does not have visible chunks of meat in it, but is most likely cooked with meat and fish. Corinne had all of the food that I was served. I eventually had some stew made with cocoyam leaves which was basically like a spinach stew, and I was a little suspicious about it actually being vegan...After exploring Le Plateau, we headed back to our hotel and then celebrated Corinne's birthday over Lebanese food, and later ice cream/sorbet, pastries, and coffee at a patisserie!
So that was Cote D'Ivoire. It was the exact opposite of what I was expecting and I loved it. We were supposed to leave at at 7:00 for Accra, so we were there at 630, but I did not realize that 7:00 actually meant that the bus would leave at 9:30. We finally arrived in Ghana at 11:00 PM. I was happy to be back. The people in Ghana are wonderful in how friendly they are. I miss Ghana when I leave it. Anyway, I have to run as I am leaving for Niger soon with Corinne. I am not looking forward to the bus ride that will take longer than 30 hours. Deep vein thrombosis here I come. I hope those accompanying us to Niger have bathed prior to boarding the bus...Have a great week!
Peace.
-RM.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Greetings, comrades. I come to write to you about the little land known as Togo and some other details of the week of course.
I am currently parasite-free, well I suspect I may have an eye infection but that's small potatoes. What I am trying to say is that I'm parasite-free and enjoying life again. This week was pretty quiet. I went to an art show opening on Tuesday at the Goethe Institut, the German Cultural Center, in downtown Accra. The show featured recycled art composed of refuse salvaged from the site of the former Goethe Institut in Lome, Togo, which had been down burned during "political disturbances" there in 2005. Angela and I went with our friend Jonas, a genuine German!, which was an enjoyable time for us Deutschphiles, well at least Angela and I are Deutschphiles, because the experience was obnoxiously German. My productivity level in my daily life has decreased considerably now that I live with Angela, and don't avoid going to my room anymore. So, going to the Goethe Institut for some cultural enlightenment through Togolese recycled art was a welcome change in my daily and weekly routine.
I'm getting a little frustrated with my internship. As much as I love the people I work with there, I have barely anything to do. I have definitely received a firsthand look at the Ghana healthcare system and just how limited resources there are, but I wish I was actually helping people. I guess I do the tedious and mindless work no one wants to do, so maybe I'm relieving someone. It's just a lot of time to be doing nothing. But like I said, I love the people I work with. I brought my iPod with a playlist I made for Eric, one of the staff who has enlightened me the most about Ghana's political system, his hometown of Kumasi, and this week, the meaning of the strange things written on tro-tros (maybe he shouldn't have enlightened me, as I find less humor in those inscriptions!). It was humorous to see him rocking out to my head phones and 'pod while walking around the clinic going about business as usual.
On Wednesday, I went to get my visa at the Togolese embassy. It was quite the process as usual. What a fool I was to think that it would go smoothly, but after going to get passport photos taken (again), getting cedis exchanged for CFAs (Central African francs) (without being ripped off, thankfully), and finally returning to the embassy with everything in order, I was granted a Togolese visa! On Friday morning, I left for Togo.
I went to Adangbe, Togo with Fire (his real name is Daetey) and his friend Papa. Adangbe is the name of the village in which Fire (and Papa) grew up in. It is about an hour away from Lome, Togo, the capital. We left Legon, Ghana for Togo at 6 AM sharp, and headed to downtown Accra Tema station to catch a tro to the border. Papa left Fire and I because he had to go buy a towel (?) so he disappeared for a while, as we waited in the trotro. It was filling up, and Papa was still not in the back row beside us...the tro-tro mate started freaking out, because Papa was still not filling his seat and our tro-tro was causing a jam in the already crowded tro-tro park. So we got out of the tro-tro and wondered where Papa was because he was not answering his phone. Our getting there seemed to be off to a rocky start and this was only the beginning. When we finally got a tro headed to the border, Aflao, it broke down not too far from the border. We caught another tro-tro, and after crossing the border with no hassles, we took a tro to Lome and then went to take a car to Fire's village. I could not believe the condition of the car, and I was even more incredulous when seven people and all of their wares piled into this vehicle. Not surprisingly, we did not reach our destination in this vehicle. We had to take yet another car to the village.
Finally by the late afternoon, we made it to Adangbe! The village is in a very rural area about an hour from Lome. There is no electricity or running water. The toilet is a raised concrete square platform and I would not go there at night because about two dozen cockroaches liked to hang out there... It was nice to meet Fire's family and see where he spent as he says, his "kidtime" (childhood, to you and I), however, I cannot speak Ewe or French, except for things such as "thank you" and "good evening" and those things can only go so far. It was awkward times because of this language barrier. I spent a lot of time reading 'Jude the Obscure' and my Lonely Planet West Africa guide book. Perhaps Burkina Faso and Niger soon? I tried to interact with people as much as I could, but I felt awkward because I couldn't speak with anyone. When I was reading, I would sometimes hear some stirring outside my window and when I would look up from my book there would be one or two or sometimes five children staring in at me. Then, I would try to communicate and fail miserably. My West Africa guidebook has a section in the back which lists some basic phrases in colonial and indigenous languages so I was able to stammer, "Je...um... m'appelle..Rachel" (My name is Rachel) and other basic conversation essentials. During one visit to my window, they presented me with a few fresh pesticide-free mangoes from the trees growing there. I loved the kids though. I made an effort to try to socialize with the people in the village and I had the most success with the kids I think. I went outside and sat with them and tried to interact. They kept feeding me mangoes and coconut, which was welcome because my body never seemed to want to part with any of the food I had there...even after about ten small mangoes and two or three papayas I was still uncomfortable gastrointestinally....ugh...
Fire's family practices a traditional African religion. Fire's uncle is the fetish priest of the village, and if something were to happen to Fire's uncle, then Fire would take the role as village priest. I enjoyed this aspect of the weekend most. I was thankful that I could take a lot of pictures of the shrines, rituals, etc. When I would meet with Fire's relatives in the shrine area, we would have to drink a shot of gin, and when doing this, you drink some, and then pour some on the ground for the ancestors. Monday is the sacred day in Fire's religion. When I woke up on Monday, Fire had me wear a piece of white fabric as a shirt, and he also wore white. We went to the shrine, where we had to remove our sandals, and then lift our feet over a terracotta dish of smoldering medley of things I could not distinguish. We let the smoke grace the soles of our feet and then the underside of one arm, encircled our backs, and then brought it under the other arm. Then we went outside of the shrine and sat while Fire talked to his father who was inside of the shrine. He talked of things he needed in his life onto a CFA (Central African franc) coin, and I did the same. We also drank more gin...not exactly what I wanted to drink first thing in the morning..and then we went to another shrine to perform a similar ritual.
Bob Marley Day was on Sunday, and the big festival I was supposed to go to was about that, which I discovered once I got to Togo. Fire is a rasta man, so he was all about that day. There was a reggae show which he sang in and played an instrument he crafted out of the soles of two flip-flops cut into two circles and impaled with two sticks for mallets, and then filled two buckets of water and placed two overturned calabash bowls inside and used this as a percussion instrument..ingenious! When I saw Fire sharpening the sticks to use for the mallets, I thought he was going to use it in some animal sacrifice...thankfully for me, and the many unsuspecting goats and chickens roaming about the village, this was not the case! The show was fun. I was pretty beat, but I did a little African dancing with Fire and his relatives, so that was enjoyable. The village is certainly suffering from poverty, but the way people treated me, you would think they had not a trouble in the world. They prepared vegan meals specially for me. I enjoyed cabbage stew that was not filled with parasites or meat, various forms of starch, and perhaps the best salad I've ever tasted.
On Monday, we returned to Ghana, and I was glad to be back. In Togo, they get around with 'moto-taxis' which are simply motorcycles that are used like taxis! Soo much fun, but frightening at the same time because drivers of any vehicle here are like kamikazes, the roads are not always maintained, and the cities are often crowded. Lome also has the amazing baguettes ( Thanks France for colonizing Togo at some point!) plus avocado, tomato, and onion! Mmmmm..Ghana's bread..not as good. I have no internet time left! Agh!
Peace.
Akosua Dede
I am currently parasite-free, well I suspect I may have an eye infection but that's small potatoes. What I am trying to say is that I'm parasite-free and enjoying life again. This week was pretty quiet. I went to an art show opening on Tuesday at the Goethe Institut, the German Cultural Center, in downtown Accra. The show featured recycled art composed of refuse salvaged from the site of the former Goethe Institut in Lome, Togo, which had been down burned during "political disturbances" there in 2005. Angela and I went with our friend Jonas, a genuine German!, which was an enjoyable time for us Deutschphiles, well at least Angela and I are Deutschphiles, because the experience was obnoxiously German. My productivity level in my daily life has decreased considerably now that I live with Angela, and don't avoid going to my room anymore. So, going to the Goethe Institut for some cultural enlightenment through Togolese recycled art was a welcome change in my daily and weekly routine.
I'm getting a little frustrated with my internship. As much as I love the people I work with there, I have barely anything to do. I have definitely received a firsthand look at the Ghana healthcare system and just how limited resources there are, but I wish I was actually helping people. I guess I do the tedious and mindless work no one wants to do, so maybe I'm relieving someone. It's just a lot of time to be doing nothing. But like I said, I love the people I work with. I brought my iPod with a playlist I made for Eric, one of the staff who has enlightened me the most about Ghana's political system, his hometown of Kumasi, and this week, the meaning of the strange things written on tro-tros (maybe he shouldn't have enlightened me, as I find less humor in those inscriptions!). It was humorous to see him rocking out to my head phones and 'pod while walking around the clinic going about business as usual.
On Wednesday, I went to get my visa at the Togolese embassy. It was quite the process as usual. What a fool I was to think that it would go smoothly, but after going to get passport photos taken (again), getting cedis exchanged for CFAs (Central African francs) (without being ripped off, thankfully), and finally returning to the embassy with everything in order, I was granted a Togolese visa! On Friday morning, I left for Togo.
I went to Adangbe, Togo with Fire (his real name is Daetey) and his friend Papa. Adangbe is the name of the village in which Fire (and Papa) grew up in. It is about an hour away from Lome, Togo, the capital. We left Legon, Ghana for Togo at 6 AM sharp, and headed to downtown Accra Tema station to catch a tro to the border. Papa left Fire and I because he had to go buy a towel (?) so he disappeared for a while, as we waited in the trotro. It was filling up, and Papa was still not in the back row beside us...the tro-tro mate started freaking out, because Papa was still not filling his seat and our tro-tro was causing a jam in the already crowded tro-tro park. So we got out of the tro-tro and wondered where Papa was because he was not answering his phone. Our getting there seemed to be off to a rocky start and this was only the beginning. When we finally got a tro headed to the border, Aflao, it broke down not too far from the border. We caught another tro-tro, and after crossing the border with no hassles, we took a tro to Lome and then went to take a car to Fire's village. I could not believe the condition of the car, and I was even more incredulous when seven people and all of their wares piled into this vehicle. Not surprisingly, we did not reach our destination in this vehicle. We had to take yet another car to the village.
Finally by the late afternoon, we made it to Adangbe! The village is in a very rural area about an hour from Lome. There is no electricity or running water. The toilet is a raised concrete square platform and I would not go there at night because about two dozen cockroaches liked to hang out there... It was nice to meet Fire's family and see where he spent as he says, his "kidtime" (childhood, to you and I), however, I cannot speak Ewe or French, except for things such as "thank you" and "good evening" and those things can only go so far. It was awkward times because of this language barrier. I spent a lot of time reading 'Jude the Obscure' and my Lonely Planet West Africa guide book. Perhaps Burkina Faso and Niger soon? I tried to interact with people as much as I could, but I felt awkward because I couldn't speak with anyone. When I was reading, I would sometimes hear some stirring outside my window and when I would look up from my book there would be one or two or sometimes five children staring in at me. Then, I would try to communicate and fail miserably. My West Africa guidebook has a section in the back which lists some basic phrases in colonial and indigenous languages so I was able to stammer, "Je...um... m'appelle..Rachel" (My name is Rachel) and other basic conversation essentials. During one visit to my window, they presented me with a few fresh pesticide-free mangoes from the trees growing there. I loved the kids though. I made an effort to try to socialize with the people in the village and I had the most success with the kids I think. I went outside and sat with them and tried to interact. They kept feeding me mangoes and coconut, which was welcome because my body never seemed to want to part with any of the food I had there...even after about ten small mangoes and two or three papayas I was still uncomfortable gastrointestinally....ugh...
Fire's family practices a traditional African religion. Fire's uncle is the fetish priest of the village, and if something were to happen to Fire's uncle, then Fire would take the role as village priest. I enjoyed this aspect of the weekend most. I was thankful that I could take a lot of pictures of the shrines, rituals, etc. When I would meet with Fire's relatives in the shrine area, we would have to drink a shot of gin, and when doing this, you drink some, and then pour some on the ground for the ancestors. Monday is the sacred day in Fire's religion. When I woke up on Monday, Fire had me wear a piece of white fabric as a shirt, and he also wore white. We went to the shrine, where we had to remove our sandals, and then lift our feet over a terracotta dish of smoldering medley of things I could not distinguish. We let the smoke grace the soles of our feet and then the underside of one arm, encircled our backs, and then brought it under the other arm. Then we went outside of the shrine and sat while Fire talked to his father who was inside of the shrine. He talked of things he needed in his life onto a CFA (Central African franc) coin, and I did the same. We also drank more gin...not exactly what I wanted to drink first thing in the morning..and then we went to another shrine to perform a similar ritual.
Bob Marley Day was on Sunday, and the big festival I was supposed to go to was about that, which I discovered once I got to Togo. Fire is a rasta man, so he was all about that day. There was a reggae show which he sang in and played an instrument he crafted out of the soles of two flip-flops cut into two circles and impaled with two sticks for mallets, and then filled two buckets of water and placed two overturned calabash bowls inside and used this as a percussion instrument..ingenious! When I saw Fire sharpening the sticks to use for the mallets, I thought he was going to use it in some animal sacrifice...thankfully for me, and the many unsuspecting goats and chickens roaming about the village, this was not the case! The show was fun. I was pretty beat, but I did a little African dancing with Fire and his relatives, so that was enjoyable. The village is certainly suffering from poverty, but the way people treated me, you would think they had not a trouble in the world. They prepared vegan meals specially for me. I enjoyed cabbage stew that was not filled with parasites or meat, various forms of starch, and perhaps the best salad I've ever tasted.
On Monday, we returned to Ghana, and I was glad to be back. In Togo, they get around with 'moto-taxis' which are simply motorcycles that are used like taxis! Soo much fun, but frightening at the same time because drivers of any vehicle here are like kamikazes, the roads are not always maintained, and the cities are often crowded. Lome also has the amazing baguettes ( Thanks France for colonizing Togo at some point!) plus avocado, tomato, and onion! Mmmmm..Ghana's bread..not as good. I have no internet time left! Agh!
Peace.
Akosua Dede
Friday, May 2, 2008
Finally, an internet connection that works! I hope you have had a good week.
Last Friday night, several of my friends and I went to see a dance production put on by the School of Dance and Performing Arts here at the U of Ghana. I was reluctant to go at first because I have heard that past productions were terrible, but maybe that's because this school does not specialize in Western musicals such as "The Sound of Music." The dance production we saw was called "AbCdom: The Creeping Menace." AbCdom means "crazy" in Twi. It was excellent! The venue was an outdoor theater on campus. The choreography and music was fantastic. The storyline was somewhat strange because it was about drugs and a Jesus-like figure stopped the destructiveness the drugs was having on people, and even resurrected someone who had overdosed...I'm not sure how much I dug that message..but the dancing was fabulous. I wish I had as much coordination and rhythm those people have, just in their thumbnail.
This past weekend, CIEE took us to Kumasi. Kumasi has been my favorite city that I've visited thus far in Ghana. It's the second most populous city in Ghana and home of the Ashanti people. Kumasi is the culture capital of Ghana. It's less crowded and not nearly as overwhelming as Accra. People live in large family houses here because to the Ashanti people, family means extended family, and this family lives together. Kumasi is not as urbanized as Accra and full of trees. The ride took about six hours by bus. I love getting out of Accra. I try to look out the window at the beautiful scenery as long as I can before falling asleep. When we arrive at our destination, we visited Bonwire, a village which makes kente cloth. Kente cloth was originally woven by the Ashantis. Now, it is woven Ashanti people and those who are not Ashanti, and is a cultural symbol of Ghana. It is woven on long looms with thread that are tied to something on the ground about ten feet away. It's hard to describe. I'll show you pictures! The cloth is beautiful. It's vividly colored and each pattern has a particular significance. The larger more complicated designs may take months to complete. Amazing.
Next, we visited Lake Bosumtwe, which is about 30 kilometers from Kumasi. Lake Bosumtwe is the largest natural lake in Ghana. It is a crater lake surrounded by mountains. It was spectacular. Twenty-four villages that encircle the lake depend on it for its tilapia and water. We went for a swim in the lake. It was no refuge from the equatorial heat however because it was shallow where we were swimming and in the direct sunlight, so the 90 degree heat was more refreshing that the water! We took a boat ride out into the lake, and I was a little worried at times, because as with any vehicle in Ghana, (Honda Camry-sized cabs = can fit 7 people, tro-tros = 25 people, etc) it was overloaded and the motor was groaning...we made it back without sinking into the lake thankfully. There was a man putting fishing nets out in the lake and sitting on a wooden plank as a vessel. If I remember correctly, there is a taboo about going out onto the lake in dugout canoes, so that is why people use planks as vessels.
The Kumasi Central Market is the largest open air market in West Africa, and we were lucky enough to go there. I only got to visit the outskirts of it, and it was too overwhelming to buy anything. I don't know if you've ever smelled fresh meat, but it is the most nauseating smell to ever grace my nostrils. I try not to be annoying about my aversion to the once-living flesh of my animal friends, but this stench makes me gag. So the meat smell also prevented me from stopping and looking around more at the wares being sold at the market. I met a bunch of market ladies, who loved my pitiful attempt at Twi, and asked for my phone number. Now when I meet men on the street, and they ask for my number, I do not provide them with such information. I will also not give women my number. I was foolish enough to give one market lady, Abenaa, my number, who gave it to the five others surrounding her, to be called eight times by various numbers. "I want you to take me abroad." Okay! Just tell me when you want to go. I have oodles of cash money.
We visited the Ashanti chief's former palace, which is now a museum. It was in a lush gated area with peacocks on the lawn. We had to sit down and watch a video before we began our tour about the Ashanti chief and people. There was a humorous segment of the video in which the narrator told about how the Ashanti people are a peaceful people, but the clip showed Ashanti people toting some serious guns. We had an enthusiastic tour guide with a strange sense of humor, Opoku, who took us on a light-hearted journey through Ashanti history.
We were supposed to stay in Kumasi Friday, Saturday, and leave Sunday morning. There was nothing planned for us on Sunday morning except for relaxing. Recently, the Ghana Music Awards were taking place in Accra to commend the best hip-life, high-life, etc artists of Ghana (and Nigeria). P Square is one of these artists popular enough to win an award at the Ghana Music Awards. I may have mentioned previously that P Square is the creator of the song, "Do Me", and from this song alone, I, and several of my friends are die hard fans. We got drift of the news that P Square was going to be playing at Labadi Beach, which is about 10 or 15 minutes from Legon, on Sunday at noon. Eight P Square fans woke up at 4:45 A.M. Sunday to leave at 5:30 in a tro-tro sized vehicle back to the U of G in time to see our Nigerians perform their hit single. We arrived in the Greater Accra area around 10:30, but then our information source informed us that the show was starting at 2:00. But then the rainy season made itself known and it poured rain from a little before two until about 4:30 P.M. During the storm, our information source told us that the show would be at 5:00, so then when we got to the beach at 5:00 P.M., 5:00 P.M. actually meant the show was at 8:00 P.M. Luckily our friend Daniel was there to protect my friends Angela, Corinne, Heather, and myself, somewhat, but we were still harassed at the worst place in Ghana for harassment of females: Labadi Beach. Finally, the show began. We saw Tinny (pronounced like you and I say "tiny": Angela and I joked around by peering at the stage as if we couldn't see Tinny because he was so small we couldn't see him....har har..), who is a big name in Ghana, Asem, AbCdom, Nameless (from Kenya, and there's a reason why he doesn't deserve a name - terrrrible.) anndd Ja Rule!, who was as profane as ever, and greeted the crowd with "What the F--- 's Up, Ghaaana!" in his signature ultra gravelly voice. You can count on the most terrible tidbits of American culture to corrupt every other nation in the world. So after enduring all of the aforementioned artists, guess who did NOT show up to this show? Yes, you guessed it. P Square. You know, the artist which the past 27 hours of our lives revolved around. What a letdown!
The week following this weekend was pretty quiet as I was sick all week with giardia or amoeba parasites, I'm not sure which, setting up shop in my intestines. So imagine a "running stomach" for six days straight. Not so fun. Cabbage stew strikes again...
On Monday, I sent my first and last packages from the Accra Post Office. I hate going to the post office on campus because of the rudeness that emanates from the surly workers there. Accra was even worse. Sorry rude lady with the world's easiest job that I have never sent a package out of your country, and don't know which of the ambiguous windows to go to first...or...how to package my package...and to be foolish enough to think that a box would be sensible to put my wares into...or writing in the corner was a foolish place for me to write the return address....or that 27 stamps in postage instead of a rubber stamp saying GH cedis of postage makes sense?!?!..So the bottom line is that it was expensive, time-consuming, and grated my nerves a little bit...Thankfully, Corinne was there to help me laugh through the ridiculousness of all the interactions I had there.
Luckily, the day of the post office also marked a day of great news. I received a text from Angela that said, "hey - remember the time we both hated our roommates and the drew (university) girls moved out and they made us roommates? move in tomorrow" I was sooo excited! Non-awkward times at last! This also made me think about how disappointed I am with my experience with my Ghanaian roommate. I was wishing and hoping that living with a Ghanaian roommate would be a great experience, and I would learn a lot from this person. Boy was I wrong. I learned all about her, because that's all we talked about, but it just made me want to stereotype about Ghanaian women. The only thing she invited me to was church. I think I'll pass. I just did not luck out here in the roommate department. So I moved all of my things out while Hurricane Meredith was out of the room, to avoid even more awkwardness. I left a note that simply said, "I moved out." I did not write her name or my name on the note. Then Angela and I moved into our new room. Room 228! I saw Meredith when I was in the hall, and she told me she had found my note, and asked where I was living now, with a huge smile on her face. This was the most pleasant she had ever been with me...was I really sure I wanted to move away from this sweet-natured girl? You bet I was sure. This is exactly what she wanted me to do. I heard later that she complained to the housing department that I did not tell her sooner that I was moving out. She was not really concerned, she just wanted to get me in trouble somehow. Angela is a great roommate. We have sleep marathons now and I never hear her come in the room if I'm sleeping. People actually want to come in our room because there is an absence of a cold Ghanaian woman scowling at them when they come in. Angela calls it the new "It Room" because everyone wants to be there! I also received the sweetest card from my sweet Mom and Dad, which may have been the nicest things they have said to me, as well as a post card from Hong Kong from my friend Dan, which made this day even better! :-)
My friend Amy, from Minnesota, is one of my favorite people in this world. I realize how much I like her when I see her interact with new people. She always includes everyone and makes people feel comfortable. It's really nice. Plus she says things like, "Holy Cow." Love it. She called me up earlier in the week and told me about the May Day holiday and the May Day tradition she has grown up with. On May Day, the tradition is to go to a friend's door, place a basket of candy on the doorstep, knock on the door, and then run away. So we went to Shop Rite on Tuesday, and bought paper and candy. We, and my friend Maddie and occasionally Andrew (Alovi), then spent the evening making some woven paper baskets. We spent Wednesday doing this as well, and some on Thursday morning. It was a daunting task for sure. We ended up making over 40 baskets. We made one for every person in our program that lived on campus, and for some of the U-Pals as well. Paper and candy were both limiting reactants in this equation, and our cash supply too, so we unfortunately could not make more. The delivering of the baskets made the task of making them even more rewarding. Everyone that was actually in their rooms loved them. May Day was also Andrew's birthday, so we went to Jerry's Spot for drinks and then to the Basement to get down. The Basement always has the best event fliers. This event "Reloaded" had humor in the dresscode for men: "Smart and Responsible" ...whatever that means...
Friday I went to the doctor because a running stomach for 6 days was entirely too much for my comfort...Nyaho Hospital is recommended by the US Embassy, but I don't think I would even recommend it. I have gone with friends who have suspected they had malaria. Not only does each visit take forever, but the doctors have said things such as, "Well, the blood test says you don't have malaria, but I think you have it." So my friend Heather may or have not have malaria, but it is certain that she has 40 dollars less than she had before going to Nyaho. A girl in another program actually did have malaria but it was misdiagnosed as urinary tract infection, so her malaria became dangerously worse because it was going untreated!!! Yikes. So...after hearing about this, I did not go to Nyaho, but Akai House Clinic. The healthcare workers were nice, professional, and did everything in a timely fashion. I apparently lost ten pounds. I was tested for typhoid, and I was given a prescription for the parasites giardia and amoebas. I think I had one of those parasites because I'm just going to say I'm having a pretty solid day...
Over the weekend, Angela and I went to The Loom, which is an art gallery in downtown Accra. I enjoyed it immensely. There were some paintings that really struck me because they captured everyday life here so well. There was jewelry, paintings, sculpture, batik fabric, kente cloth, books, postcards, carvings, etc. On our way to a tro-tro, a man got our attention and pointed to a car with a Caucasian man as its passenger, and said, "Hey, Who is this man, You know him, right?" Of course.
Angela and I also visited MmaxMart, which is Oburoni City basically. I feel like I'm committing a crime when I go to places like this because everything is so expensive in the store, compared to the people outside on the sidewalk making a living selling bananas for 10 cents a piece. However, I was having quite the aversion to Ghanaian food, so a falafel sandwich filled with vegetables hit the spot, and I did not spend a fortune on such a treat.
I had somewhat of a "I wish I was in the U.S." week. I missed organization this week. I miss cooking. I miss eating food that I am more sure than not that there are not pathogens lurking within it. I just felt kind of dead this week and that made me somewhat discouraged. I am loving Ghana again though. I miss you all though. I hope you had the best weekend.
PEACE!
Akosua Dede
Last Friday night, several of my friends and I went to see a dance production put on by the School of Dance and Performing Arts here at the U of Ghana. I was reluctant to go at first because I have heard that past productions were terrible, but maybe that's because this school does not specialize in Western musicals such as "The Sound of Music." The dance production we saw was called "AbCdom: The Creeping Menace." AbCdom means "crazy" in Twi. It was excellent! The venue was an outdoor theater on campus. The choreography and music was fantastic. The storyline was somewhat strange because it was about drugs and a Jesus-like figure stopped the destructiveness the drugs was having on people, and even resurrected someone who had overdosed...I'm not sure how much I dug that message..but the dancing was fabulous. I wish I had as much coordination and rhythm those people have, just in their thumbnail.
This past weekend, CIEE took us to Kumasi. Kumasi has been my favorite city that I've visited thus far in Ghana. It's the second most populous city in Ghana and home of the Ashanti people. Kumasi is the culture capital of Ghana. It's less crowded and not nearly as overwhelming as Accra. People live in large family houses here because to the Ashanti people, family means extended family, and this family lives together. Kumasi is not as urbanized as Accra and full of trees. The ride took about six hours by bus. I love getting out of Accra. I try to look out the window at the beautiful scenery as long as I can before falling asleep. When we arrive at our destination, we visited Bonwire, a village which makes kente cloth. Kente cloth was originally woven by the Ashantis. Now, it is woven Ashanti people and those who are not Ashanti, and is a cultural symbol of Ghana. It is woven on long looms with thread that are tied to something on the ground about ten feet away. It's hard to describe. I'll show you pictures! The cloth is beautiful. It's vividly colored and each pattern has a particular significance. The larger more complicated designs may take months to complete. Amazing.
Next, we visited Lake Bosumtwe, which is about 30 kilometers from Kumasi. Lake Bosumtwe is the largest natural lake in Ghana. It is a crater lake surrounded by mountains. It was spectacular. Twenty-four villages that encircle the lake depend on it for its tilapia and water. We went for a swim in the lake. It was no refuge from the equatorial heat however because it was shallow where we were swimming and in the direct sunlight, so the 90 degree heat was more refreshing that the water! We took a boat ride out into the lake, and I was a little worried at times, because as with any vehicle in Ghana, (Honda Camry-sized cabs = can fit 7 people, tro-tros = 25 people, etc) it was overloaded and the motor was groaning...we made it back without sinking into the lake thankfully. There was a man putting fishing nets out in the lake and sitting on a wooden plank as a vessel. If I remember correctly, there is a taboo about going out onto the lake in dugout canoes, so that is why people use planks as vessels.
The Kumasi Central Market is the largest open air market in West Africa, and we were lucky enough to go there. I only got to visit the outskirts of it, and it was too overwhelming to buy anything. I don't know if you've ever smelled fresh meat, but it is the most nauseating smell to ever grace my nostrils. I try not to be annoying about my aversion to the once-living flesh of my animal friends, but this stench makes me gag. So the meat smell also prevented me from stopping and looking around more at the wares being sold at the market. I met a bunch of market ladies, who loved my pitiful attempt at Twi, and asked for my phone number. Now when I meet men on the street, and they ask for my number, I do not provide them with such information. I will also not give women my number. I was foolish enough to give one market lady, Abenaa, my number, who gave it to the five others surrounding her, to be called eight times by various numbers. "I want you to take me abroad." Okay! Just tell me when you want to go. I have oodles of cash money.
We visited the Ashanti chief's former palace, which is now a museum. It was in a lush gated area with peacocks on the lawn. We had to sit down and watch a video before we began our tour about the Ashanti chief and people. There was a humorous segment of the video in which the narrator told about how the Ashanti people are a peaceful people, but the clip showed Ashanti people toting some serious guns. We had an enthusiastic tour guide with a strange sense of humor, Opoku, who took us on a light-hearted journey through Ashanti history.
We were supposed to stay in Kumasi Friday, Saturday, and leave Sunday morning. There was nothing planned for us on Sunday morning except for relaxing. Recently, the Ghana Music Awards were taking place in Accra to commend the best hip-life, high-life, etc artists of Ghana (and Nigeria). P Square is one of these artists popular enough to win an award at the Ghana Music Awards. I may have mentioned previously that P Square is the creator of the song, "Do Me", and from this song alone, I, and several of my friends are die hard fans. We got drift of the news that P Square was going to be playing at Labadi Beach, which is about 10 or 15 minutes from Legon, on Sunday at noon. Eight P Square fans woke up at 4:45 A.M. Sunday to leave at 5:30 in a tro-tro sized vehicle back to the U of G in time to see our Nigerians perform their hit single. We arrived in the Greater Accra area around 10:30, but then our information source informed us that the show was starting at 2:00. But then the rainy season made itself known and it poured rain from a little before two until about 4:30 P.M. During the storm, our information source told us that the show would be at 5:00, so then when we got to the beach at 5:00 P.M., 5:00 P.M. actually meant the show was at 8:00 P.M. Luckily our friend Daniel was there to protect my friends Angela, Corinne, Heather, and myself, somewhat, but we were still harassed at the worst place in Ghana for harassment of females: Labadi Beach. Finally, the show began. We saw Tinny (pronounced like you and I say "tiny": Angela and I joked around by peering at the stage as if we couldn't see Tinny because he was so small we couldn't see him....har har..), who is a big name in Ghana, Asem, AbCdom, Nameless (from Kenya, and there's a reason why he doesn't deserve a name - terrrrible.) anndd Ja Rule!, who was as profane as ever, and greeted the crowd with "What the F--- 's Up, Ghaaana!" in his signature ultra gravelly voice. You can count on the most terrible tidbits of American culture to corrupt every other nation in the world. So after enduring all of the aforementioned artists, guess who did NOT show up to this show? Yes, you guessed it. P Square. You know, the artist which the past 27 hours of our lives revolved around. What a letdown!
The week following this weekend was pretty quiet as I was sick all week with giardia or amoeba parasites, I'm not sure which, setting up shop in my intestines. So imagine a "running stomach" for six days straight. Not so fun. Cabbage stew strikes again...
On Monday, I sent my first and last packages from the Accra Post Office. I hate going to the post office on campus because of the rudeness that emanates from the surly workers there. Accra was even worse. Sorry rude lady with the world's easiest job that I have never sent a package out of your country, and don't know which of the ambiguous windows to go to first...or...how to package my package...and to be foolish enough to think that a box would be sensible to put my wares into...or writing in the corner was a foolish place for me to write the return address....or that 27 stamps in postage instead of a rubber stamp saying GH cedis of postage makes sense?!?!..So the bottom line is that it was expensive, time-consuming, and grated my nerves a little bit...Thankfully, Corinne was there to help me laugh through the ridiculousness of all the interactions I had there.
Luckily, the day of the post office also marked a day of great news. I received a text from Angela that said, "hey - remember the time we both hated our roommates and the drew (university) girls moved out and they made us roommates? move in tomorrow" I was sooo excited! Non-awkward times at last! This also made me think about how disappointed I am with my experience with my Ghanaian roommate. I was wishing and hoping that living with a Ghanaian roommate would be a great experience, and I would learn a lot from this person. Boy was I wrong. I learned all about her, because that's all we talked about, but it just made me want to stereotype about Ghanaian women. The only thing she invited me to was church. I think I'll pass. I just did not luck out here in the roommate department. So I moved all of my things out while Hurricane Meredith was out of the room, to avoid even more awkwardness. I left a note that simply said, "I moved out." I did not write her name or my name on the note. Then Angela and I moved into our new room. Room 228! I saw Meredith when I was in the hall, and she told me she had found my note, and asked where I was living now, with a huge smile on her face. This was the most pleasant she had ever been with me...was I really sure I wanted to move away from this sweet-natured girl? You bet I was sure. This is exactly what she wanted me to do. I heard later that she complained to the housing department that I did not tell her sooner that I was moving out. She was not really concerned, she just wanted to get me in trouble somehow. Angela is a great roommate. We have sleep marathons now and I never hear her come in the room if I'm sleeping. People actually want to come in our room because there is an absence of a cold Ghanaian woman scowling at them when they come in. Angela calls it the new "It Room" because everyone wants to be there! I also received the sweetest card from my sweet Mom and Dad, which may have been the nicest things they have said to me, as well as a post card from Hong Kong from my friend Dan, which made this day even better! :-)
My friend Amy, from Minnesota, is one of my favorite people in this world. I realize how much I like her when I see her interact with new people. She always includes everyone and makes people feel comfortable. It's really nice. Plus she says things like, "Holy Cow." Love it. She called me up earlier in the week and told me about the May Day holiday and the May Day tradition she has grown up with. On May Day, the tradition is to go to a friend's door, place a basket of candy on the doorstep, knock on the door, and then run away. So we went to Shop Rite on Tuesday, and bought paper and candy. We, and my friend Maddie and occasionally Andrew (Alovi), then spent the evening making some woven paper baskets. We spent Wednesday doing this as well, and some on Thursday morning. It was a daunting task for sure. We ended up making over 40 baskets. We made one for every person in our program that lived on campus, and for some of the U-Pals as well. Paper and candy were both limiting reactants in this equation, and our cash supply too, so we unfortunately could not make more. The delivering of the baskets made the task of making them even more rewarding. Everyone that was actually in their rooms loved them. May Day was also Andrew's birthday, so we went to Jerry's Spot for drinks and then to the Basement to get down. The Basement always has the best event fliers. This event "Reloaded" had humor in the dresscode for men: "Smart and Responsible" ...whatever that means...
Friday I went to the doctor because a running stomach for 6 days was entirely too much for my comfort...Nyaho Hospital is recommended by the US Embassy, but I don't think I would even recommend it. I have gone with friends who have suspected they had malaria. Not only does each visit take forever, but the doctors have said things such as, "Well, the blood test says you don't have malaria, but I think you have it." So my friend Heather may or have not have malaria, but it is certain that she has 40 dollars less than she had before going to Nyaho. A girl in another program actually did have malaria but it was misdiagnosed as urinary tract infection, so her malaria became dangerously worse because it was going untreated!!! Yikes. So...after hearing about this, I did not go to Nyaho, but Akai House Clinic. The healthcare workers were nice, professional, and did everything in a timely fashion. I apparently lost ten pounds. I was tested for typhoid, and I was given a prescription for the parasites giardia and amoebas. I think I had one of those parasites because I'm just going to say I'm having a pretty solid day...
Over the weekend, Angela and I went to The Loom, which is an art gallery in downtown Accra. I enjoyed it immensely. There were some paintings that really struck me because they captured everyday life here so well. There was jewelry, paintings, sculpture, batik fabric, kente cloth, books, postcards, carvings, etc. On our way to a tro-tro, a man got our attention and pointed to a car with a Caucasian man as its passenger, and said, "Hey, Who is this man, You know him, right?" Of course.
Angela and I also visited MmaxMart, which is Oburoni City basically. I feel like I'm committing a crime when I go to places like this because everything is so expensive in the store, compared to the people outside on the sidewalk making a living selling bananas for 10 cents a piece. However, I was having quite the aversion to Ghanaian food, so a falafel sandwich filled with vegetables hit the spot, and I did not spend a fortune on such a treat.
I had somewhat of a "I wish I was in the U.S." week. I missed organization this week. I miss cooking. I miss eating food that I am more sure than not that there are not pathogens lurking within it. I just felt kind of dead this week and that made me somewhat discouraged. I am loving Ghana again though. I miss you all though. I hope you had the best weekend.
PEACE!
Akosua Dede
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)