Happy Snapping

During my travels in the south last month, I took Jeny to Kakum National Park and around the canopy walk on her birthday. This was another re-visit for me but one I particularly enjoyed for a number of reasons.  We joined a group who had gathered at the entrance. They were not hard to spot as they wore clothes of identical fabric. This was an outing from a Catholic community in Kumasi, men, women and children. They were very excited and most seemed to enjoy the experience. At the end of the walkway above the trees a photographer captures each person’s image and you can view them and buy one back at the visitors’ centre.

When we arrived the queue of these identically clad visitors was significant and we watched them with interest. They all bought their photo, unsurprisingly, as I imagine most Ghanaians don’t have many pictures of themselves. As it got to our turn to view the images, a woman turned to Jeny and said, “The mother of this small girl only gave her 1 Cedi, so we told the man you will pay the rest!” “The rest” was another 1.50 Cedi. She walked away so quickly, and we were so stunned that there was nothing left to do other than pay it! It is assumed all white people are rich here. Protestations are useless. We are too well fed and must have money to have got here.

Later on in the week, a small girl came up to us as we left the “Last Bath” site and, when we enquired, agreed to be photographed. A smile was too much to ask and only when we had snapped this shot did she put out her hand and demanded gruffly “1 Cedi”. Quite an entrepreneur! She could go far but the smile would help. I'm sure good use was made of the fee.

Building blocks

It’s all happening here. The landlord has decided to finish building the house! Our organisation have just paid him the next 2 years’ rent……all at once, so he has the funds to complete the job after volunteers have been living here for the last 2 years. Currently, his son is perched perilously on scaffolding plastering the gable end. The scaffolding is hand made like most things here. It can be adapted to suit any height and some is made of teak wood. I never fail to be amazed by Ghanaians’ ingenuity with limited materials and machinery.

 

This is part of a larger project that includes digging a drainage channel around the house to cope with heavy rain pouring off the roof and the waste water from the house. All through this rainy season, water has been eroding the base of the outside walls and threatening the stability of the building. Now the rains have finished (far too soon, according to the millet farmers!) the work can begin.

I was planning a nice quiet Sunday with a lie in until at least 7.30. I think it was around 5.50am when loud voices (Ghanaians only seem to have loud on their volume controls) boomed through my louvre windows in animated Dagaare. This was clearly a planning meeting. Piles of clay bricks were delivered soon afterwards with a lot of puffing and blowing. There was banging on the walls, the lifting of raised manholes and shouting from one end of the house to the other. I gave up the thought of a lie in and got up. By the time I was dressed they had gone!

Later on, some of the children came to draw in the veranda. They are very well trained at home, not to wear shoes indoors. This pair of tiny sandals was left outside our door. Apropos my previous blog post, everything here is worn right to the end of its life. 

Big Market Day

Kejetia Market is supposedly the largest open air market in West Africa. It is in Ghana's second city, Kumasi and is certainly huge and extremely busy. We negotiated everything to pass from one side to the other. People carrying anything you can think of and stalls selling more. Carcasses of fresh meat are “chopped” right next to women selling tiny packages of “Dolly Blue” and Tescos own brand shower gel. Fabrics in all colours and patterns hanging up for us to admire, beside farming implements. A young woman passed us with armfuls of pristine plastic carrier bags for sale from Lidl, Morrisons and other well known UK outlets.

It was all fascinating and naturally, I delved in my bag for my camera. This is the only shot I got....and it doesn't even show the market......before I was yelled at by a group of locals nearby. You would have thought I’d produced a pistol!

Evidently, Photography is a complete no-no here. The fact that it was a distance shot made no difference. They knew I could zoom in and identify anyone! I got to wondering if the whole place was full of international criminals. I appreciate that many Africans do not want their image captured and I always ask if I am taking closer pictures. However, I thought this was a little extreme. Does anyone recognise this man?

Second hand clothes and shoes are everywhere in mountains on the pavements and hanging on railings. The items discarded in collection bags on doorsteps in Europe, USA and other wealthier places are of much better quality than new clothes available here. We see people walking around in T shirts with inappropriate slogans they probably cannot translate and some from places they could never hope to visit. There are thriving businesses involved in washing, pressing and displaying this clothing for sale. Although the sight of it all shames me, I’m glad so many of our rejects have another life and am sure in the second existence they are worn for much longer until they fall apart.

We didn’t buy anything in Kejetia Market. It was all too hectic and there wasn’t really anything I needed. The sights, sounds and smells were enough. Thousands of people must live there and I wondered what it was like at night. Does it ever sleep?

Cape Coast

Cape Coast castle was built by the British and from 1790 was one of the largest slave holding sites in the world, similar in many dreadful ways to St George’s Castle at Elmina. The dungeons were just as dark and airless and inadequate for the numbers entombed in them. They are both painted white and shine beautifully in the sunshine under an azure blue sky. All that didn’t feel right really.

Cape Coast has a Palaver Hall where bartering for slaves took place. I imagine the atmosphere in there was very much a “Palaver” and most distressing at the time. It is now an art gallery! Both castles have a “Gate of no Return” where slaves were pushed through to waiting ships to transport them thousands of miles across oceans. From one hell hole to another….. a floating one. Many of the slaves were traded for alcohol and guns with  the British by Ashanti tribes people.

When the guide opened the gate we found ourselves in the middle of a thriving fishing community. Nets were being mended and boats prepared for their next trip. A hive of activity in a newer more positive world.

 The difference between the two fortresses is that at Cape Coast the large wooden door has been renamed “The Gate of Return” after the remains of 2 slaves, Samuel Carson from USA and Crystal from Jamaica were  returned through this gate in 1998 for re-burial at Assim Manso, the site of the slaves last bath in Ghana, on the road to Kumasi.

We visited this village, a second time for me, to see the graves, the river and to imagine the horrors, including the noise of bellowing slave drivers and clanking of heavy shackles. Richard showed us around. He claimed his English was not good enough, but with constant encouragement he succeeded in giving us detailed information in a way that demonstrated his deep feelings about the injustice surrounding the treatment of his ancestors. We learnt a lot and so did he. His confidence took a huge boost as did his pocket in tips of reward.

Life's a Beach

KoSa was such a calm place to relax in. This isn’t a particularly busy beach but there was enough life on it to keep me interested whilst I sat with my chilled hibiscus juice just watching. The lizards only appear when it is very warm and dry. Some are quite large and in true Ghanaian colours.  There were plenty that scurried around the outside of the decked, open air restaurant and across the floors, quite unperturbed by human traffic.

Some thatching repairs were being carried out on the resort huts. They had a good store of palm leaves that served that purpose perfectly.

Fishing boats under sail and being paddled, furiously, went out to sea and back in fairly regularly. One spent a long time trying to back up onto the beach just along from the resort between reefs of sharp rocks. The men used ropes to anchor the front whilst the boat spun around. They were jumping off into the sea and then climbing back on. It all looked rather perilous but they clearly knew what they were doing from generations of experience. Finally they were successful. Notice the bonfire in the foreground…….built for Jeny’s Birthday celebration by local boys but not lit while we were there due to rain each evening!!! We hoped somebody enjoyed it after we had left.

There were some wonderful hand hewn fishing boats along the coast all with a religious reference to their name and some very small and manned by one or two. This couple were returning home having “put their family boat to bed”.
I am grateful to the fishermen who must have been successful in their quest as we enjoyed some fantastic fresh grilled red snapper and lobster in the evenings.

Coconut Boys

The location of KoSa Beach Resort is fairly idyllic. Sandy beach, palm trees and some good strong Gulf of Guinea waves. There is a lovely bay between rocks where it is safe to swim, or, wave jump in lovely water of a reasonable temperature! Also there are people and stray sheep walking past to give it all added interest.

We were rather fascinated by the “Coconut Boys”. These youngsters came along each morning with a cutlass searching to determine the tree with the most likely harvest. Their age tended to gauge how high they could climb to reach the coconut crop at the top. The teenagers could manage about 10 metres! After throwing some down onto the sand they trimmed them and lopped the top off one before presenting it to you for the princely sum of 20p. Delicious and was worth it for the entertainment as well as the refreshment.

A group of young people were having a great time playing volley ball one afternoon as we strolled along the beach. Spotting cameras, they were very keen to have a group photo taken. We discovered these boys were refugees from Cote d’Ivoire staying in a nearby UNICEF camp. They seemed extremely positive about their future and wanted to receive a copy of the photo by email. I’m sure their accommodation was hardly luxurious and their situation at least difficult, but they appeared happy and delighted to talk to us, exchanging email addresses. I am now struggling with my French to translate the messages. 

A Day in Elmina

The last time I visited Elmina was a Tuesday, which is the fishermen’s day off. The boats were in the harbour but very quiet and the market was deserted. This time was quite different. First of all we paid another visit to the castle. The guide was very thorough and I learned more than I did previously about the slave trade, the horrific journeys and incarceration in the bowels of these castles along the coast of Ghana. It is impossible to imagine the conditions and how anyone survived the long walks shackled together in searing temperatures with little and extremely poor sustenance.

 Nobody was released from this cell. Nobody came out alive. Some slaves walked from the north of Ghana, endured everything and died here before transportation on the ships.

The fishing community was very much alive. It all looked chaotic but evidently there are clear systems for selling fish and the atmosphere seemed similar to the Stock Exchange! The fish were quite plentiful and of a wide variety. I had never seen so many brightly painted but weathered boats. Some people sat on the bridge cheering the fishermen home as they passed underneath.

We walked around the town of Elmina to see what else happened there. A Spot was bursting at the seams due to the televising of the Manchester Football Derby. Huge cheers went up with each goal and supporters came running out onto the street shouting their jubilation. Most Ghanaians support a Premiership team but will never see them play live. Children were everywhere asking us to take photos just to see themselves on a tiny camera screen. I did wonder how many had ever seen their own image!