It’s crazy to me how fast time is flying here in Ghana. At this point I only have a week left and as I’m approaching the end of my internship, it’s getting sad to think that in seven days I’ll have to say goodbye. I don’t recall if I mentioned it in my last blog, but I’ve been working for a Graphic Design company here in East Legon called BrandEffect. At first, I was a little put off by my placement, given my lack of design skills, but luckily they assigned me to a video project, where I’ve been traveling to a farm and working on a documentary for one of other their companies called Volta Presentation, which is one of the only farms here in Ghana that grow and deliver organic produce to the people of Accra.
The farm is two hours away in an area of Ghana called the Volta Region, which is one of the more lush and dense regions of the country, known for trees, fresh air and the great Volta River, which is the largest man-made river in the world, from what I understand.
The day before the very first day that I left for the farm I was very excited, yet slightly nervous. Not only was I informed that I had to meet my co-worker, Irene, at the Accra Mall at 5:30a.m. to take a Tro Tro for my first time, but my boss told me that I would have to sleep out there in order to get the time I needed to adequately assemble the video. She also emphasized that my accommodation there would be very “simple.”
I’m sure that many others have described a traditional, Ghanaian Tro Tro in previous blogs for an outsider to understand what they are, but just in case you’re feeling out of the loop: a Tro Tro is a cheap, bus-like van that most people here use for everyday transportation. They are notorious for their aggressive and reckless drivers in addition to their haggard appearance; however, we have yet to find an alternative that takes us to where we need to go for the same, cost-effective price.
Being one of the lucky ones in the house that was placed at an internship where I am within walking distance from our compound, I had never taken a Tro Tro up until that following day because there was never a need to do so. So the concept of taking a Tro Tro for the first time was not a scary thought, just an anxious one.
The night before I left, in addition to the over-analyzing fret of my upcoming Tro Tro experience, the idea of me, sleeping on a pile on hay in the middle of an African forest, somewhere on some random farm forced me to squirm with curiosity. I restlessly doze off into a timed and subconscious slumber, where I woke up in intervals to check my alarm clock.
At 4:30a.m. I woke up exhausted, grabbed my things, dashed out of the house and hailed a taxi for the Accra Mall. At that point the sun was till about 45 minutes away form rising, and despite the routine chaos of the Accra Mall, the Tro Tro station was quite that morning and I stood there waiting for Irene to join me.
Irene met me shorty after a series of confusing text messaged and missed calls. She greeted me with an exhausted smile and and we walked over together into the main hub where we jumped in a white van and ducked to down cram ourselves and my over-sized luggage in the backseat. We had to wait for them to fill up before we could leave. We waited about 15 minutes and finally after we were completely compacted in there, with 8-12 other Ghanaians, the driver revved up the engine and we headed for Tema, which is sub neighborhood on the outskirts of Accra. When we arrived to Tema we changed Tro Tros and repeated the same process until we finally left for Sogakope, where the farm was located, at about 6:30a.m.
As we approached our final destination, we drove across a huge bridge that overpassed the entire Volta River. To the left there was a small beach on the shoreline that stretched far as my eyes could see. It looked equipped for swimming, covered in sand, with big, hanging tress and long, wooden fishing boats lined up in clusters down the horizon. Just beyond the bridge, the Tro Tro pulled off onto the side of the main motorway to let us out at a dirt crossroad where we waited for Matthew, the farm’s manager, to come and pick us up. Ten minutes later a white Land Rover marked with the company’s logo came darting down the bumpy road and parked adjacent to where we were standing.
Based on the misleading notion I had of Matthew from Irene’s broken English, I was surprised to see that he wasn’t Ghanaian or black. The 29-year-old British expat sitting in the diver’s seat looked at me and my camera equipment in utter confusion. He greeted me with an awkward hello when Irene and I climbed into the cockpit of his truck. It became clear to me in that moment this impatient, outdoorsy, farming-enthusiast had no clue who I was or had any warning that I was coming his way with the intention to shove my camera in his face.
With an honest attempt to defuse the uncomfortable tension among the three of us on our way to the farm, I immediately began to explain to him that I was an intern for BrandEffect and that I was there to make a documentary about the farm and its practices. He was hesitant at first, but with haste to return to the farm and annoyance from leaving it, he warmed up to me and the idea by the time we pulled up to entry gate.
I was pleasantly surprised to see that all the anticipations I had about the farm was everything but. The farm was big and very sun-exposed; however, it was elegant, clean, structured and organized. All the workers wore either jeans or skirts, depending of their gender, with matching baby blue Polos. They were working intently on their assigned projects when we walked into Matthew’s office.
“Have you had real coffee in Ghana yet,” Matthew asked me as he walked towards the French press sitting on top of the mini fridge.
“No, I’m dying,” I said.
“Here,” he handed me a hot mug and immediately I thought I had died and went to heaven.
After I finished my coffee I talked with Irene and Matthew about everyday things- the weather, work, being tired, answering to the boss, ect. and I realized instantaneously that I loved the farm and its atmosphere far more than the stale office that I had been working at in Accra. I spent the rest of the day taking notes for my film, tours of the greenhouses, observing the different vegetation and learning how the farm worked with Mawunya, the farm’s production assistant.
Around 3:00p.m. I sat in the back office and booked my return flights to Spain and New York with good, fast Internet (a luxury that I hadn’t experienced yet in Ghana) while the three of them carried about their workday. As the evening approached, I went for a walk. I moved about the farm and the shoreline of the Volta River. I inhaled the fresh air, wallowed in my surroundings and used the silence of the trees blowing in the wind to relax my mind. I was so at ease. The disrupting noise of honking horns and busy highways were replaced with the stillness of the river, baby goats grazing in the weeds and thousands of insects buzzing in the swamps along the river’s edge. Occasionally my thoughts were interrupted by the roar of a motorcycle that skimmed across the clay road close by, decreasing its grumble with distance, but other than that, the commotion of Accra was out of sight and out of mind.
After the sun set, we retired to Matthew’s house. He put me up in a nice, spare room of his with a double bed that had its own bathroom. However, to Matthew’s surprise, the water was out so I took a true Ghanaian shower with a bucket and a ladle that he quickly fetched for me. After I dressed and brushed my hair out, I went to the kitchen where he was chopping up fresh garlic, ginger and onion for our meal he had planned for the night. I should of known that he’d be the type of person who enjoys cooking and wholesome, nutritious foods considering his occupation, but I was still presently surprised to see that this new colleague of mine, who wasn’t anticipating my arrival or stay, was trying to be a good host by cooking me dinner.
After Matthew had finished cooking the rice and sautéing the green beans, Irene came in from the guesthouse, where she normally stays, to set the table with plates, forks and glasses for water and wine. Minutes later, our food was ready and for first time in all the time I had spent in Ghana I ate a healthy and fresh, home-cooked meal, with a glass of rich, red Merlot, among strangers that I met that morning.
The The three of us talked for couple hours after we ate about everything expect for what I always talk about with my fellow students back at our compound. I enjoyed getting to know them amid good wine and delicious food, but more than anything, I was so happy to finally have the moment where I was alone in Ghana and going things that I truly loved.
I savored the evening and all our conversations until my eyelids started to sink. Around 10 o’clock all of us went to our rooms and from the exhaustion of all the uncertainties throughout the day, I quickly passed out. The next day we woke up, had breakfast and headed for the farm at 7a.m. and for two more days before I returned to Accra, I was privileged with solitude, along with one more night of indulgence and good company while I tacked my interviews and shot my B-roll.
I had the luxury of going back there one more time and it was an even better experience filled with more home-cooked meals, more wine, beautiful sunsets and lots of conversation because at that point I had become closer with Matthew and Irene. By the time I had to leave again I didn’t want to and promised them that I would come back, which I still have the intentions of doing so.
Overall, having the opportunity to create a documentary about an organic farm here in Ghana has been such a unique experience that I’ll never forget and I’ll always have the friendships that made doing so. When I look back and read this down the road, I’ll recall how getting to know people that didn’t exist to me prior to this trip, or any trip that I’ve taken for that matter, is the true purpose of life. Furthermore, these memories reiterate the concept that anything can happen and any opportunity can arise if you open your mind and broaden your horizon.
I’m sitting here in my office in Accra on this humid, yet cold afternoon, wrapping up this ridiculously long blog and smiling. I’m smiling not only because I’m happy that I came to Ghana, but because the experiences I’ve had here reminded me yet again that traveling the world, meeting new people and seeing different cultures will always be my greatest passion in life!