Ghana in-depth
As promised, I will now relate a little regarding my trip to Ghana:
My main reason for going was to take the GRE, which I spent about a month studying for half-heartedly, and two weeks studying for in earnest. Also, I had heard that they sell strawberry frozen yogurt and delicious fried chicken in Ghana.
I planned on traveling with another Peace Corps volunteer, but the nature of life in West Africa meant that she couldn’t get her visas in time. So I went alone. Overland. It sounds a little bit more adventurous than it really was. Mostly I just had to carry my Lonely Planet West Africa guide with me everywhere, and ask lots of people for directions.
I spent a couple nights in the capital, Accra. Accra was amazing. Amazing in the sense that there are tree-lined streets, public spaces, high rise office buildings, and delicious food. I kept feeling like I needed to explain to people that I had just come from Benin, especially when I spent seven minutes staring at the Poptarts and gluten-free bread in a grocery store.
After taking the test (I did fine), I went to Cape Coast, which is the site of one of many colonial slave forts. I found a cheap hotel ($7 a night), and wandered around the town. While still pretty touristy, Cape Coast was somewhat of a relief after the shock of Accra. Here there are plenty of door-in-the-wall shops, street food, and other things that have come to represent West Africa for me.
I took a day trip to Kakum National Park, and did the most touristy thing there, which is a rainforest canopy walk. Lumbering across suspended beams with a group of about 40 other tourists is probably not the best way to appreciate an African rainforest, but its what I did. If I had another chance, I would probably sign up for an early morning or night hike, in order to better observe the forest, and maybe catch a glimpse of wildlife.
Strangely enough, I ran across a couple of volunteers who had recently finished their Peace Corps service and were traveling through West Africa. So I spent an afternoon with them. It was a nice break from all the alone time I was having.
After saying goodbye to my friends, I went to El Mina castle; another slave castle a short ride from Cape Coast. The castle itself is sobering, especially when paired with a dramatic tour guide, who made me stand silently in the female slave holding cell as he gave a detailed description of how the English governor would choose his slave of the day from a balcony above.
(Most slaves sent to the New World came from West Africa. Most sent to the U.S. came from Ghana, while those from Benin were usually sold in Haiti, Brazil, and the Caribbean.)
While in El Mina, I wandered a bit around the port and tried to take some pictures. Unfortunately, a number of people demanded to be paid when I asked to take their picture. Even a little old lady who was selling crabs demanded money – more money than her crabs cost! So I found a way around those saavy guys by taking pictures of kids, since they are too happy about getting their picture taken to ask for anything more. Two can play this game.
The aspect of being 100% a tourist was strange. I’m so used to doing what’s necessary to integrate that accepting people’s attitude towards me as a foreigner in Ghana was a little hard. But sometimes, people could tell that I wasn’t just in Africa for two weeks, like most Americans. More than once, as I was haggling over the price of something, the seller would squint at me and ask where I was from. When I would explain that I’m from the U.S., but that I’ve been in Benin for the past year, they would get an “Ah-ha!” look and resign themselves to giving me a lower price. Ah-ha.
I spent my last night in Ghana though, playing the part. I stayed one night in a nice, ex-pat hotel. The hot water, air conditioning, and Mexican food were well worth it.
But the next day, I was ready to make my way back to Benin, and was even relieved when I crossed the border into Togo and could start speaking French again. As I went from my own seat on a Ghanaian bus, to sharing the front seat of a junky taxi with three other people, I felt like I'd come home.
My main reason for going was to take the GRE, which I spent about a month studying for half-heartedly, and two weeks studying for in earnest. Also, I had heard that they sell strawberry frozen yogurt and delicious fried chicken in Ghana.
I planned on traveling with another Peace Corps volunteer, but the nature of life in West Africa meant that she couldn’t get her visas in time. So I went alone. Overland. It sounds a little bit more adventurous than it really was. Mostly I just had to carry my Lonely Planet West Africa guide with me everywhere, and ask lots of people for directions.
I spent a couple nights in the capital, Accra. Accra was amazing. Amazing in the sense that there are tree-lined streets, public spaces, high rise office buildings, and delicious food. I kept feeling like I needed to explain to people that I had just come from Benin, especially when I spent seven minutes staring at the Poptarts and gluten-free bread in a grocery store.
After taking the test (I did fine), I went to Cape Coast, which is the site of one of many colonial slave forts. I found a cheap hotel ($7 a night), and wandered around the town. While still pretty touristy, Cape Coast was somewhat of a relief after the shock of Accra. Here there are plenty of door-in-the-wall shops, street food, and other things that have come to represent West Africa for me.
I took a day trip to Kakum National Park, and did the most touristy thing there, which is a rainforest canopy walk. Lumbering across suspended beams with a group of about 40 other tourists is probably not the best way to appreciate an African rainforest, but its what I did. If I had another chance, I would probably sign up for an early morning or night hike, in order to better observe the forest, and maybe catch a glimpse of wildlife.
Strangely enough, I ran across a couple of volunteers who had recently finished their Peace Corps service and were traveling through West Africa. So I spent an afternoon with them. It was a nice break from all the alone time I was having.
After saying goodbye to my friends, I went to El Mina castle; another slave castle a short ride from Cape Coast. The castle itself is sobering, especially when paired with a dramatic tour guide, who made me stand silently in the female slave holding cell as he gave a detailed description of how the English governor would choose his slave of the day from a balcony above.
(Most slaves sent to the New World came from West Africa. Most sent to the U.S. came from Ghana, while those from Benin were usually sold in Haiti, Brazil, and the Caribbean.)
While in El Mina, I wandered a bit around the port and tried to take some pictures. Unfortunately, a number of people demanded to be paid when I asked to take their picture. Even a little old lady who was selling crabs demanded money – more money than her crabs cost! So I found a way around those saavy guys by taking pictures of kids, since they are too happy about getting their picture taken to ask for anything more. Two can play this game.
The aspect of being 100% a tourist was strange. I’m so used to doing what’s necessary to integrate that accepting people’s attitude towards me as a foreigner in Ghana was a little hard. But sometimes, people could tell that I wasn’t just in Africa for two weeks, like most Americans. More than once, as I was haggling over the price of something, the seller would squint at me and ask where I was from. When I would explain that I’m from the U.S., but that I’ve been in Benin for the past year, they would get an “Ah-ha!” look and resign themselves to giving me a lower price. Ah-ha.
I spent my last night in Ghana though, playing the part. I stayed one night in a nice, ex-pat hotel. The hot water, air conditioning, and Mexican food were well worth it.
But the next day, I was ready to make my way back to Benin, and was even relieved when I crossed the border into Togo and could start speaking French again. As I went from my own seat on a Ghanaian bus, to sharing the front seat of a junky taxi with three other people, I felt like I'd come home.
posted by betsie at 2:48 AM
2 Comments:
AH. i was way behind on your blog somehow but am now all caught up. i just read that they have gluten-free bread in ghana; that place really IS the promised land.
I'm wondering if your experiences in the taxi filled with people were better then say the airplane ride with your own seat. I'm trying to figure out if being good steward's of God's wealth, i.e. taking 5 people in a taxi instead of just 1 would be better or worse then some of the riches we experience in the West. On the one hand I recognize the need to be good stewards, but on the other I wonder if the relaxation you would experience in a taxi just by yourself would increase your 'restfulness' and allow you to do more good compared to 5 people sharing the same taxi.
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