Roughly a week has passed since my last blog post…so much for staying on my game. I’m falling behind for several reasons: 1) The internet connection almost everywhere is just plain terrible. Internet at our house takes forever because all 16 of us students are trying to use it at the exact same time, which slows down the modem. Internet Cafes prove to be only a little (if at all) better, so I’ve given up on spending money towards that cause. The hotel behind our house has great Wi-Fi; I uploaded over 200 pictures to Facebook in under 20 minutes, which is record time. However, this usage is a tad pricy, and in attempts to save some money, I have told myself to use this location sparingly. 2) Things are amazingly awesome with a small touch of chaos, and I’m just lost on time. I made a promise to keep time spent online to a minimum while on this trip…after all, I can mindlessly scroll through Twitter or Stumbleupon when I’m back home enjoying the rest of my vacation. While in Ghana, I aim to appreciate the country and take a break from the electronic media world (to an extent). Computer usage is great during storms, periods before bed, and other down times, but I’m attempting to make the most of these 6 weeks and stay away from social media.
Anyways, here’s a recap of last Wednesday-last Sunday. Many things occurred during these few days, so I’m touching on something unique pertaining to each one.
The whole group traveled to Labadi Beach for Reggae Night almost two weeks from this coming Wednesday (the 9th). As told by last year’s students during one of our spring term meetings, “Make sure you go to Reggae Night at Labadi Beach! You don’t want to miss it!” After briefly researching Reggae Night online and talking with a few trusted locals, we decided to leave via taxi around 9 p.m. Taxis in Ghana differ from those in the U.S.; you establish a price before going along for the ride because drivers are often known to overcharge foreigners. Not paying prior to your trip means the driver has full intention to demand higher payment for some lame reason upon arrival, and you are left with no choice but to pay that amount. Fortunately, bartering with drivers is fairly simple, and taxi rides are considerably cheaper than in the States. My group of four paid roughly $7 for a ride that I estimate to range anywhere from $25-$35. Drivers are unafraid to speed, cruise on the wrong side of the road for elongated periods of time, and even steer off streets if it allows them to bypass a slower moving vehicle. Somewhat cool and considerate of the driver, but more so terrifying. Seatbelts aren’t really a thing and I found myself questioning the legality of such a practice several times. Often times the windows or doors are broken. I guess speeding tickets and general motor vehicle crimes aren’t as big a problem or worry in Ghana as they are in the U.S. Despite all these factors, the taxi drivers appear fairly skilled at their practice, and we arrived in a rather short amount of time.
Imagine dozens upon dozens of beach chairs and tables spread along the sand of your favorite beach, right up against the waves. Reggae Night was a collection of locals and foreigners congregated in the midst of a stage, several oceanside bars, and the Atlantic Ocean. From 9 p.m. through dawn, anyone (for a small entry fee) is free to enjoy the moonlight, good company, friends, games, music, and the pure simplicity of life. There are canopies and gazebos draped with pretty neon lighting, and locals frequently roam the grounds attempting to make a sale off merchandise or some sort of illegal substance. Drinks and souvenirs are fairly overpriced, but Labadi Beach has transformed into such a popular event that I was willing to indulge and partake in the occasion.
Kaylee and me with the bartender, “Sexy Monkey”, who promised to look after us.
Our group grabbed a few drinks and sprawled out at a large table by the beach. We were greeted with such excitement and hospitality, sharing great stories and good laughs with the men and women wanting to talk with us and discover our reasons for being in Ghana. Many oceanside pictures were snapped and our group danced for what seemed like hours to the beats of somewhat recognized Ghanaian bands. Ericca and I were invited on stage seeing as we stood front and center, and our friends shortly followed. I’ll be happy to leave Ghana knowing I can check dancing on stage at Reggae Night off my bucket list. I truly wish such a festival was possible back in the states, but I feel as though Ghanaians carry more energy and enthusiasm for things of a simpler nature. Many people I know back in the U.S. need constant entertainment, and are always looking towards the future, or the “what’s next.” Few take time to appreciate the present and the ease of just living in the moment and not having a care in the world during that time. Regardless of outside obligations or problems, the only things seeming relevant were those around us, the band, and sound of crashing waves. Thanks to the company of my friends and Reggae Night locals, one night turned into hours of blissful entertainment.
Early on at Reggae Night:
We woke Thursday morning and boarded our van, headed towards Nima (a poorer slum community near Accra). Today the group visited a local primary school – Anani Memorial International School. After twisting and turning through small alleyways in the pouring rain (we got caught in a monsoon and arrived soaking wet), the school came into sight. Over 200+ students sat waiting to greet us, and we were lucky enough to have front and center seats for a few performances they had taken the time to practice. Crazy how schools are tucked away in slum neighborhoods, with poor facilities and less than ideal classroom environments. I am very much appreciative of the American educational system in that sense.
‘WELCOME’ from the kids.
Firstly, a group of Ghanaian school children (none older than age 10 most likely) danced throughout a series of drum songs and beats. If we’re using one word to describe the dance abilities of these young children, I’d go with unbelievable. These kids have moves. I mean, why aren’t we teaching kids this in U.S. schools? Their moves, rhythm, and enthusiasm for the music showed a passion for life and pride in their school, and I couldn’t peel my eyes away from such a cool and unique sight. Find me for videos!
Afterwards, another group of students formed a line, came forward one-by-one, and recited poems. Considering this poetry group ranged from the ages of 4-8, I never expected to hear words concerning the themes of love for one’s country, rich and poor similarities, and the importance of appreciating and thanking our teachers. Incredible topics being told to (and by) the young minds of Ghana. For those who think otherwise, they’re learning essentials (math, reading, writing), but so much more. I mean, tell me where I could find a six year old discussing that despite historical problems, the black man and white man are but one, and must treat each other with respect and happiness? So awesome. For as minimal facilities as these schools have access to, the values and lessons taught to students were priceless.
Children stepping forward one by one to share their poems:
The school choir sang several songs, both in English and French, and then some students rocked the courtyard runway for a miniature fashion show. Little boys and girls pranced around the classroom with drumbeats guiding their movements, and one at a time, several boys and girls modeled school uniforms for all to see. Not only could these kids strut better than half the models on TV, but their cheeky smiles and high-pitched laughter made it a hilariously cute way to end the performance. Afterwards, everyone formed a huge dance circle. Our group rocked out with all 200+ children, and one at a time all 16 of us students were led by the kids towards the middle. Myself, and those on my trip, danced with the kids for roughly 30 seconds before our turn ended and we rejoined the circle’s outer ring. That moment of pure euphoria is something I will never forget.
Afterwards, we donated a bunch of school supplies to all the students, and were given some time to take pictures and meet the kids. It’s still surreal being here at times – you have kids running up to you at every moment, tugging at your arm and trying to jump on your back. They’re wanting to know your name, where you are from, if you have Facebook, where you’re living, if you’re coming back, and what games you’ll play with them. Our technologies seem foreign. There is somewhat of a language barrier. Interests and lifestyles are obviously dissimilar. Despite these contrasts, I really felt a connection to those I met, and I am sure the feeling was reciprocated. You can be so drastically different from someone but still find mutual commonalties and a way to relate. We are all more alike than we often tend to think, and sometimes the mere act of attempting to learn someone’s story leads to a newfound discovery and the forming of a beautiful relationship.
Me with some of the kids:
On Friday we packed our bags and boarded the van yet again for a weekend trip at Cape Coast/Elmina. Everything was hunky dory until our tire completely gave out and we found ourselves stranded along the side of a road roughly 45 minutes from our destination. A flat tire in the U.S. does not come close to the misery of a flat tire in Ghana. For one, cars (and vans) in Ghana do not come with spare tires. Two, it was particularly hot on this fine day, and quite humid. Did I mention all of our water was warm by this point in the afternoon? Tensions quickly heightened and dehydration kicked in. The three hour pick-up wait seemed endless, but eventually, a hotel shuttle found its way to our location and transported everybody to the Coconut Grove Beach Resort (the poor driver waited a few extra hours for new tire deliveries). During that three-hour wait, however, some group members made the best of the situation, and played across-the-highway frisbee with local children. Just goes to show that you can always find a positive in every negative circumstance.
Our poor van:
Apparently, good things come to those who wait. We arrived at one of the most beautiful resorts I’ve ever had the fortune of experiencing. This grove easily compares to Hawaii or a tropical island in the middle of the Carribbean. Palm trees, an ocean breeze, wild animals roaming throughout, coconuts, pools, and a beachside restaurant…I think I’ve discovered paradise, and I never want to leave.
Check-in at the Coconut Grove Beach Resort:
Poolside with the ocean behind:
We spent the remainder of Friday lounging and exploring. Our less than ideal voyage from Accra to Cape Coast made for a rather exhausting day, so it was quite relaxing to sit poolside and bask in some cooler weather for once. Hotel employees lit a bonfire on the beach in the evening, and to our great surprise and enjoyment, the ocean water made for a warm swim, even after sunset. Here’s to nights of deep conversation under the stars. Also, our rooms were air conditioned, so of course I had the best night’s sleep ever. AC is yet another thing I’ve added to the growing list of things I am thankful for back in the U.S.
On Saturday the group toured two castles formerly used and inhabited during the slave trade – Elmina & Cape Coast. It’s difficult to accurately convey the overwhelming sense of emotion one feels upon entering these hauntingly beautiful castles. To know that a place of such breathtaking sites and exquisite architecture was used for pure evil forms knots in your stomach. Walking into the light and airless dungeons, touring the churches that rest on top of the cells where thousands died, feeling the rust of historic cannons, and knowing suffering, torture, and trauma took place on these very premises only a few hundred years ago casts a looming sense of discomfort. Emotions ran high and words were few and far between; I think the following plaque I photographed sums up matters far better than I ever could:
“In everlasting memory of the anguish of our ancestors. May those who died rest in peace. May those who return find their roots. May humanity never again perpetrate such injustice against humanity. We, the living, vow to uphold this.”
Outside of Elmina Castle:
Punishment Room:
Cape Coast Castle:
Only source of light/ventilation in one of the cells:
We had roughly two hours in-between tours of the two castles, and were lucky enough to run into some of the locals while resting at a cafe. We chatted with the young children, questioning how exactly they learn to balance large baskets on their heads. I touched on this briefly, but Ghanaian women carry goods on their heads almost everywhere. These range in size from something like a small basket one might expect to be filled with Easter eggs, to large tubs fit for washing dogs. These goods are anything from cosmetics, to food, school supplies, technology, toiletries, clothes, and whatever else comes to your mind. If you have a need for it, chances are it is being sold on the head of a Ghanaian woman. How these women and children maintain perfect balance while walking and running (not to mention the weight of everything on their heads) is beyond me. Some of us attempted to learn the ways.
Learning the local balancing techniques:
Balancing was one thing, but walking with even a small item proved far too big a challenge. Ghana: 1 USA: 0.
We awoke early Sunday morning to visit two final attractions before busing back towards Accra. I had the pleasure of exploring Kakum National Park and navigating my way through the canopy walk – a series of narrow, slightly sketchy bridges that spans throughout the rainforest treetops (almost 200 feet high). Thankfully I brought my poncho, because it poured the entire time! I repeatedly shouted “This is unreal!” as I stumbled through the bridges, hearing my voice echo throughout an endless sea of green. Looking up, down, left, and right…everything appeared so calm, natural, and limitless. Another lifelong memory of mine will be conquering a slight fear of heights to trek through these treetops.
One of the canopy walk bridges:
Afterwards, the group headed towards Hans Cottage Botel, a Crocodile Reserve. Our program director introduced “Crocodile Mary,” the reserve’s owner and one of the most fearless women I’ve ever met. Crocodile Mary brought us to the river bank, where sure enough, a large, motionless crocodile waited to say hello. One at a time Mary brought us over to the crocodile; I remember this short walk as both nerve-wracking but exhilarating. I knew touching a crocodile wasn’t something I particularly wanted to do, but definitely something I had to do.
Myself, “Crocodile Mary,” and an actual crocodile:
All in all, a phenomenal week+weekend. Internships begin tomorrow, which are sure to bring more interesting stories and experiences. Constantly thanking those who have helped me get to this point in my life, as I find myself reiterating, “Take it all in,” over and over again. I am truly fortunate to have such an experience and have learned not only about myself, but others. While there are moments of discomfort and nostalgia, I remember this whole experience is temporary, and before I know it, I’ll be back in a bubble of comfort and sea of familiarity. With those reassurances, I dive back into the experience 110%, attempting to give my all and truly submerse myself in Ghana.
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