After the castle we headed to the hostel for the night. We hit up this nice little restaurant for supper as a group after our long day. It’s really nice here you can go to a restaurant and get some fried rice and chicken for 2 or 3 Cedi which is equivalent to our dollar fifty or two dollar. After supper we headed up to our rooms and play some cards before calling it a night. .
The next morning we all filed into our trow trow, this day with a four hour drive ahead of us. We had decided the night before that we would break up the four hour drive with a stop in Accra. We ended up going to the Oseu market, where we lived like tourists, getting some Western food, checking out some of the local art and jumping at the chance for highspeed internet.
A few hours later we hit the road again not knowing what was in store. We were probably ten-ish minutes outside of Accra, if that, heading for the highway so we could get back in good time when another trow trow drove into the side of us.
I was sitting in the back right corner of our trow trow and the other trow trow was merging into our lane from the right. The other driver honked to signal he was pulling through to the other vehicles around(it’s a thing the drivers, there’s honks always honking but it’s not in the angry “get the **** out of my way way, it’s more of a honk instead of a blinker honk). He then look right at me and then without a second thought slammed into the side of our trow trow. The front of his trow trow was passed my open window at the back so clearly there was no way he was getting over into the lane so for him to even think of honking was absurd. So as I said, I was in the back right corner seat and now you know I had a window to my right as well and it was open so when the other driver drove into us his side mirror didn’t just get knocked off rather it shattered in a V like break outwards, in my direction, covering me in glass. The driver then continued to push his way over into our lane which led me to think, we’re flipping we’re definitely flipping. To all of our surprise the other driver finally stopped pushing us over but then started yelling and yelling, somehow getting behind us then pushing us from our left side and yelling some more which we were about to find out was to pull over.
The other driver and majority of the male passengers get out and the very first thing yelled out of the other driver’s mouth was, ARE YOU TOURISTS?! (I guess this is a good point to mention we had a driver and his mate from our village driving us all weekend) Obviously our drivers yelled no in Dangme and that’s when the arguing and fighting began. Immediately the other driver went back to his trow trow and his passengers got out and started yelling at our driver that it was his fault for the accident and blah blah. Honestly, and this could be unbelievable to someone reading, but all biases aside, our driver was NO way in the wrong. The men continued yelling and pushing each other, grabbing our driver by the shirt. Our mate got out and started getting into it helping out our driver(a mate is the person who travels with a driver of a trow trow and collects the money from the passengers). This foolishness continued on for a good fifteen minutes, back and forth yelling, pushing and more yelling until one of the passenger of the other trow trow, who clearly realized who was in the wrong got our drivers and his co-passengers back into the trow trows. He told our driver to call the police on his driver and they will get him at the next roadside stop.
At this point I was still in shock. I had glass all over me and I continued to be in shock for probably the next half hour of the drive and stayed weary until we arrived home safely, as we did and I am here telling you about it.
Well that puts an end to my Cape Coast adventures! Hope you enjoyed.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Cape Coast Part 2
It felt surreal, every moment of it, the walk up, the walk across and the walk back down through the rain forest. I couldn't help but sit in the trow trow, on the drive out of the countryside into the city, thinking nothing but I'm here, I'm in Ghana.
An hour later we arrived at the Cape Coast Castle. It was definitely an experience I will never forget. Personally, I didn't want to go. I didn't want to be seen as "the tourist" going to see the "sites" of Ghana because this was something that was not a site of Ghana rather a mark of the horrible things a human being can do to another human being.
The Castle was eerie. It was dark. It was uncomfortable. From the moment I walked in I felt this awful feeling that is too hard to put into words. All I could think was how could a human beings do this to other human being. I felt disgust the more of the stories I heard.
We walked through the door and the light vanished quickly. It was dark and the stone walls stood close together. The rooms where the men were kept were a quarter of the size of a volleyball court, made of stone with a very small trough around the room for bodily excretions. The room for the women much smaller and very dark. The stories we heard here of the women who would be taken by the soldiers and abuse, physically and sexually, left me in disgust. Then we were taken to a special room. This room was the smallest of them all, the door you had to duck to enter. There were scratches on the walls and floors and when everyone entered the door was shut over and we all stood in almost complete darkness. This room was were the men who fought, who resisted were put. They knew that if you were put in here you would die. I can't even describe the feelings.
Something that completely overwhelmed me about this whole tour was the door of no return. This was the door that the slaves knew once you walked through you were never to return again. When we walked outside we were told to turn around to see a new sign that was put up two years ago, The Door of Return. Our guide told us that two year ago the bodies of two former slaves were brought back through this door. My eyes watered as they were telling the story. This brought water to my eyes. The feeling I felt during this story, indescribable, it gave me a sense of hope? Is hope the correct word? I don't know but it was a powerful moment. The return of these two people stands as recognition for all those people who did not return. It shows that after this many years so right has been given to the people who had so much wrong done to them. So powerful.
There were many stories of the castle owners but I don't fancy telling them. The horrible things they did and for the only three graves in the castle to be a British owner, his wife and the Priest, it absolutely disgust me.
Well I'd love to write more but times up for today so stay tuned for Part 3..
An hour later we arrived at the Cape Coast Castle. It was definitely an experience I will never forget. Personally, I didn't want to go. I didn't want to be seen as "the tourist" going to see the "sites" of Ghana because this was something that was not a site of Ghana rather a mark of the horrible things a human being can do to another human being.
The Castle was eerie. It was dark. It was uncomfortable. From the moment I walked in I felt this awful feeling that is too hard to put into words. All I could think was how could a human beings do this to other human being. I felt disgust the more of the stories I heard.
We walked through the door and the light vanished quickly. It was dark and the stone walls stood close together. The rooms where the men were kept were a quarter of the size of a volleyball court, made of stone with a very small trough around the room for bodily excretions. The room for the women much smaller and very dark. The stories we heard here of the women who would be taken by the soldiers and abuse, physically and sexually, left me in disgust. Then we were taken to a special room. This room was the smallest of them all, the door you had to duck to enter. There were scratches on the walls and floors and when everyone entered the door was shut over and we all stood in almost complete darkness. This room was were the men who fought, who resisted were put. They knew that if you were put in here you would die. I can't even describe the feelings.
Something that completely overwhelmed me about this whole tour was the door of no return. This was the door that the slaves knew once you walked through you were never to return again. When we walked outside we were told to turn around to see a new sign that was put up two years ago, The Door of Return. Our guide told us that two year ago the bodies of two former slaves were brought back through this door. My eyes watered as they were telling the story. This brought water to my eyes. The feeling I felt during this story, indescribable, it gave me a sense of hope? Is hope the correct word? I don't know but it was a powerful moment. The return of these two people stands as recognition for all those people who did not return. It shows that after this many years so right has been given to the people who had so much wrong done to them. So powerful.
There were many stories of the castle owners but I don't fancy telling them. The horrible things they did and for the only three graves in the castle to be a British owner, his wife and the Priest, it absolutely disgust me.
Well I'd love to write more but times up for today so stay tuned for Part 3..
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Cape Coast- Part 1
It's when I stood sixty metres above the rain forest that I realized I was in a place I've always wanted to be, a dream, but slowly I snapped back and realized it was reality.
This weekend was interesting yet again. We left for Cape Coast early Friday morning, it was a poor day so I wasn't really bothered by a four-five hour drive. We arrived at Cape Coast late afternoon, the weather still poor ready to find a place to drop our stuff before grabbing some food. It ended up our friend Evans got us rooms at the GNAT Hostel, Ghana National Association of Teachers. After having a short moment, I AM IN GHANA AND I AM TEACHING, we headed out to Oasis Beach Resort for some food to remind us of home. I stuffed myself with some amazing pizza and french fries before cracking into my first Ghanaian Star beer! (for those of you wondering yes, it was amazing BUT I did only have one) Since it was pretty cold and rainy we decided we'd just head to the hostel for the night, hang out and play some cards so we could get a good sleep for our adventures on Saturday.
The next morning, we all filed into our trow trow and stuffed our face with fresh bread and bananas from the roadside vendors. We headed up the hilly road to the Canopy walk. The Canopy walk is sixty metres above the rain forest and is 360 metres long. It was so amazing. We had to hike up this long trail through, what I kept calling the jungle, but it was actually the rain forest. It was so beautiful and so difficult to put into words. The tree roots were jutting up onto the pathways, tree branches hanging down, animals making noises, the leaves rustling because animals were moving, it was all so amazing. We climbed upwards for about twenty minutes before we reach the Canopy walk. It was a single plank of wood pathway 60 metres high in the air that seemed endless until I reached the last plank. I was absolutely terrified the first few planks but after was able to loosen up, relax a little bit, and take in the scenery both up and down. It was beautiful. I walked sweating from fear and the hike we did to get to it then it started to rain. The rain just made everything surreal to me. I was standing 60 m in the air on a plank of wood, in the rain forest, in Ghana, in Africa, Oh my goodness, I was finally here...
This weekend was interesting yet again. We left for Cape Coast early Friday morning, it was a poor day so I wasn't really bothered by a four-five hour drive. We arrived at Cape Coast late afternoon, the weather still poor ready to find a place to drop our stuff before grabbing some food. It ended up our friend Evans got us rooms at the GNAT Hostel, Ghana National Association of Teachers. After having a short moment, I AM IN GHANA AND I AM TEACHING, we headed out to Oasis Beach Resort for some food to remind us of home. I stuffed myself with some amazing pizza and french fries before cracking into my first Ghanaian Star beer! (for those of you wondering yes, it was amazing BUT I did only have one) Since it was pretty cold and rainy we decided we'd just head to the hostel for the night, hang out and play some cards so we could get a good sleep for our adventures on Saturday.
The next morning, we all filed into our trow trow and stuffed our face with fresh bread and bananas from the roadside vendors. We headed up the hilly road to the Canopy walk. The Canopy walk is sixty metres above the rain forest and is 360 metres long. It was so amazing. We had to hike up this long trail through, what I kept calling the jungle, but it was actually the rain forest. It was so beautiful and so difficult to put into words. The tree roots were jutting up onto the pathways, tree branches hanging down, animals making noises, the leaves rustling because animals were moving, it was all so amazing. We climbed upwards for about twenty minutes before we reach the Canopy walk. It was a single plank of wood pathway 60 metres high in the air that seemed endless until I reached the last plank. I was absolutely terrified the first few planks but after was able to loosen up, relax a little bit, and take in the scenery both up and down. It was beautiful. I walked sweating from fear and the hike we did to get to it then it started to rain. The rain just made everything surreal to me. I was standing 60 m in the air on a plank of wood, in the rain forest, in Ghana, in Africa, Oh my goodness, I was finally here...
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
God Bless the Rain Down in Africa...
May 30th
Waking up at 5 am, I sat and read for an hour then help Patience, one of the boarding girls who helps around the house, with the morning sweeping. After we finished with the sweeping I headed into my room to do my early morning work out. At about 7 am I headed out to the table for breakfast with the othre volunteers before they headed in different directions, some had already left for Cape Coast the others heading to Accra for the day. I chose to stay back for the day feeling I just needed the alone time, a break to do what I wanted. I spent the first part of my morning cleaning, my room and myself (shaving and ensuring my feet were actually a natural shade of tan rather than just dirty). I had originally planned to spend the whole day at the boarding house with the children playing and having a good time but instead the morning was washed away... literally.
The rain started at about 10 am out of nowhere. The morning was beautiful, a little cloudy, but beautiful. I was sitting at the table writing in my journal when a little, very light, gust of wind blew though the windom. Usually when you get these little gusts you can tell the rain is right behind but today was different. Suddenly the wind got VERY strong, I honestly thought the tin roof was going to blow off. It just kept blowing at this strength until, *TING TING TING TING TING* It started to down pour. The sky was literally falling upon the village. The sky started to grumble loud, the thunder almost sounding sharp as it cracked in the sky. It wasn't until Sir Godwin and I were racing around to shut all the shudders in the house that we realizd the sky was flashing, quite frequently then what I'm use to too. Little Alown, 3 years old who is probably my favourite child ever(I know I shouldn't have favourites but he's so adorable) was curled up in a ball by the kitchen on the floor covering his ears because all the sounds were all too much for him.
The tin roof clinking, thunder rumbling, lightning cracking and Godwin and I yelling to each other, "Close the other windows too the wind is changing directions!!!" in hopes of getting all the windows covered before the room were soaked.
This excitement lasted for about two and a half hours, definitely the worst storm since I've arrived. Alown and I sat drawing pictures, singing "Rain, rain, go away, all the children want to play" and eating lots of snacks. By the end of the two and half hours the rain had calmd, hadn't stopped but calmed and Alown had wanted to head up to the school to see the other boarding children. So we suited up in our matching white rain jackets and took off to the boarding house in the rain. The thing about this was remember in a previous blog I talked about the difficulty of describing the land, redish soil with sand and shells on top. Well when it rains the mixture turns into a quicksand type ground unless your lucky and find spots in the pathway that is hard like rock. So Alown and I hipped and hopped our way to the school hoping our foot wouldn't get sucked under by the mud and water.
When we arrived at the school the rain had pretty much ended and the boarding children were excited for company. I ended up staying the whole afternoon with them as I had planned, talking, playing the drums and doing wash. The drumming was probably my favourite part. The children were playing, singing , others dancing while the rest just watched and listened enjoying the entertainment. We sat drumming for over an hour then I wandered over to the girls to to help with washing and hang out some.
By 5 o'clock, Alown was tired and we headed back to the house. It was nice when we returned because Bwakey had supper all ready for me and Alown joined me at the table (the boarding children don't eat with us at the table and when we offer food they act as if they'll get in trouble if they take it). So clearly this was a nice surprise for me and I reall enjoyed the company. It was just shortly after that the other volunteers arrived back tired and ready for bed after their own long day so we all hit the hay.
Waking up at 5 am, I sat and read for an hour then help Patience, one of the boarding girls who helps around the house, with the morning sweeping. After we finished with the sweeping I headed into my room to do my early morning work out. At about 7 am I headed out to the table for breakfast with the othre volunteers before they headed in different directions, some had already left for Cape Coast the others heading to Accra for the day. I chose to stay back for the day feeling I just needed the alone time, a break to do what I wanted. I spent the first part of my morning cleaning, my room and myself (shaving and ensuring my feet were actually a natural shade of tan rather than just dirty). I had originally planned to spend the whole day at the boarding house with the children playing and having a good time but instead the morning was washed away... literally.
The rain started at about 10 am out of nowhere. The morning was beautiful, a little cloudy, but beautiful. I was sitting at the table writing in my journal when a little, very light, gust of wind blew though the windom. Usually when you get these little gusts you can tell the rain is right behind but today was different. Suddenly the wind got VERY strong, I honestly thought the tin roof was going to blow off. It just kept blowing at this strength until, *TING TING TING TING TING* It started to down pour. The sky was literally falling upon the village. The sky started to grumble loud, the thunder almost sounding sharp as it cracked in the sky. It wasn't until Sir Godwin and I were racing around to shut all the shudders in the house that we realizd the sky was flashing, quite frequently then what I'm use to too. Little Alown, 3 years old who is probably my favourite child ever(I know I shouldn't have favourites but he's so adorable) was curled up in a ball by the kitchen on the floor covering his ears because all the sounds were all too much for him.
The tin roof clinking, thunder rumbling, lightning cracking and Godwin and I yelling to each other, "Close the other windows too the wind is changing directions!!!" in hopes of getting all the windows covered before the room were soaked.
This excitement lasted for about two and a half hours, definitely the worst storm since I've arrived. Alown and I sat drawing pictures, singing "Rain, rain, go away, all the children want to play" and eating lots of snacks. By the end of the two and half hours the rain had calmd, hadn't stopped but calmed and Alown had wanted to head up to the school to see the other boarding children. So we suited up in our matching white rain jackets and took off to the boarding house in the rain. The thing about this was remember in a previous blog I talked about the difficulty of describing the land, redish soil with sand and shells on top. Well when it rains the mixture turns into a quicksand type ground unless your lucky and find spots in the pathway that is hard like rock. So Alown and I hipped and hopped our way to the school hoping our foot wouldn't get sucked under by the mud and water.
When we arrived at the school the rain had pretty much ended and the boarding children were excited for company. I ended up staying the whole afternoon with them as I had planned, talking, playing the drums and doing wash. The drumming was probably my favourite part. The children were playing, singing , others dancing while the rest just watched and listened enjoying the entertainment. We sat drumming for over an hour then I wandered over to the girls to to help with washing and hang out some.
By 5 o'clock, Alown was tired and we headed back to the house. It was nice when we returned because Bwakey had supper all ready for me and Alown joined me at the table (the boarding children don't eat with us at the table and when we offer food they act as if they'll get in trouble if they take it). So clearly this was a nice surprise for me and I reall enjoyed the company. It was just shortly after that the other volunteers arrived back tired and ready for bed after their own long day so we all hit the hay.
The Beach
The beach is beautiful, reminds me of home. The rumble of the ocean when your at a distance grabs at my heart everytime I hear it. The beach has always been my escape, rain or shine, summer or winter. The stress leaves as the water sprays up at me from the wave cazhing on the shore, it's just so relaxing.
May 16th & May 22nd
Each trip to the beach we left early morning. We piled into our trow trow and off we went, each time a different route. The drive to the beach i definitely a beautiful one. You pass many towns, farms, all the scenery so beautiful. To get to this beach we had to get dropped off just before the Azizanya village. We then walked fifteen to twenty minutes through a village of all straw huts, some with mud walls but majority straw. The huts are all very close together and are enclosed by palm tree leaf fences so it's like a maze to get through. This village is very friendly, children running up to you, "Bafoono!" and parents taking their children over to say hello. Each side of the village is also lined with water, ocean on one side, river on the other. On the way you have to cross three different bridges and it's when you cross the last you know you've arrived.
Palm tree bottoms painted green, yellow and pink line the shore of the beach. You can see straw huts with doors painted of different flage from around the world. There is two straw huts, one you can order cold drinks from(you don't find cold drinks very often around here) and the other where you can order food from. The Volta river is on your right while you can hear the rumbling of the ocean coming from your left.
At this point I found myself taking a moment, it was all so beautiful. I had always said that resorts weren't for me and that I didn't support what many resorts do to communities but for some odd reason here I felt okay, I didn't have that horrible feeling.
After I had this moment I took off to towards the ocean. The beach rolled upward, explaining why I couldn't see the ocean only hear, and when I reached the top in front of me endless white sand leading to beautiful deep blue ocean with highlights of waves crashing close to the shore. It was beautiful. Down the beach in a distance there was one of the unique looking fishing boats pulled up onto the beach with busy men working in the water. I found myself a seat close to the water and just sat taking it all in.
Both times we travelled to the beach we ended up staying the full day at the resort. We had food, not traditional but not Canadian either, just some rice, "salad"(kind of like clowslaw without the dressing), yam fries, you know all that good stuff. Although that reminds me, my first trip there I had Banku and Barracua fish("the best fish on the West coast of Africa," says Godwin) with Godwin, the Arethas, Anoch and two other friends of Godwin's fromt he community. Who would have thought I would ever be in Africa let alone eating a Barracuda fish. It was so delicious. I also met some cool people at the beach as well. There was another group of volunteers who had come over from Togo from working on the Africa Mercy Ship and told me all about it. They were from Canada and the Netherland and travelled the West coast of Africa doing major surguries that may not be offered in local hospitals.
On my second trip, I was able to enjoy the beach more. I played some football with one of the students from the school that had come along for the day as well as playing some volleyball after being asked by some locals which was an absoulute hoot. We also took the boat back to catch our ride to Sega rather than walking through the half wet village at this point in the day. The boat was this old fashion, think like a canoe/kayak mixed but very long and sat at least twenty of us. The boat ride lasted about the same as it would take to walk but it was very beautiful to see the Islands on the river, all palm trees, and the different perspective of the coastline we'd travelled by car each time.
The beach was so beautiful and hard to leave. As I said before I didn't initially like the fact I was supporting a "resort" but later to my surprise I found out this resort actually sends all it's profits to the local school. Funny how that worked out hey. One more trip before I leave Ghana... I think so.
May 16th & May 22nd
Each trip to the beach we left early morning. We piled into our trow trow and off we went, each time a different route. The drive to the beach i definitely a beautiful one. You pass many towns, farms, all the scenery so beautiful. To get to this beach we had to get dropped off just before the Azizanya village. We then walked fifteen to twenty minutes through a village of all straw huts, some with mud walls but majority straw. The huts are all very close together and are enclosed by palm tree leaf fences so it's like a maze to get through. This village is very friendly, children running up to you, "Bafoono!" and parents taking their children over to say hello. Each side of the village is also lined with water, ocean on one side, river on the other. On the way you have to cross three different bridges and it's when you cross the last you know you've arrived.
Palm tree bottoms painted green, yellow and pink line the shore of the beach. You can see straw huts with doors painted of different flage from around the world. There is two straw huts, one you can order cold drinks from(you don't find cold drinks very often around here) and the other where you can order food from. The Volta river is on your right while you can hear the rumbling of the ocean coming from your left.
At this point I found myself taking a moment, it was all so beautiful. I had always said that resorts weren't for me and that I didn't support what many resorts do to communities but for some odd reason here I felt okay, I didn't have that horrible feeling.
After I had this moment I took off to towards the ocean. The beach rolled upward, explaining why I couldn't see the ocean only hear, and when I reached the top in front of me endless white sand leading to beautiful deep blue ocean with highlights of waves crashing close to the shore. It was beautiful. Down the beach in a distance there was one of the unique looking fishing boats pulled up onto the beach with busy men working in the water. I found myself a seat close to the water and just sat taking it all in.
Both times we travelled to the beach we ended up staying the full day at the resort. We had food, not traditional but not Canadian either, just some rice, "salad"(kind of like clowslaw without the dressing), yam fries, you know all that good stuff. Although that reminds me, my first trip there I had Banku and Barracua fish("the best fish on the West coast of Africa," says Godwin) with Godwin, the Arethas, Anoch and two other friends of Godwin's fromt he community. Who would have thought I would ever be in Africa let alone eating a Barracuda fish. It was so delicious. I also met some cool people at the beach as well. There was another group of volunteers who had come over from Togo from working on the Africa Mercy Ship and told me all about it. They were from Canada and the Netherland and travelled the West coast of Africa doing major surguries that may not be offered in local hospitals.
On my second trip, I was able to enjoy the beach more. I played some football with one of the students from the school that had come along for the day as well as playing some volleyball after being asked by some locals which was an absoulute hoot. We also took the boat back to catch our ride to Sega rather than walking through the half wet village at this point in the day. The boat was this old fashion, think like a canoe/kayak mixed but very long and sat at least twenty of us. The boat ride lasted about the same as it would take to walk but it was very beautiful to see the Islands on the river, all palm trees, and the different perspective of the coastline we'd travelled by car each time.
The beach was so beautiful and hard to leave. As I said before I didn't initially like the fact I was supporting a "resort" but later to my surprise I found out this resort actually sends all it's profits to the local school. Funny how that worked out hey. One more trip before I leave Ghana... I think so.
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