Destination Ghana

RANDOM PHOTOS

2007-05-26T13:43:00.002-04:00

Aknowledgement

Special thanks to my wonderful Uncle Tsatsu. During my stay he took two weeks off work just in order to take me around to all the places I wanted to visit. Without him this blog would not have been possible. Much Love

Note: This is actually the last post in a series of 18. To begin from the beginning please scroll down to the very bottom of this page. Or click on the titles in the archive menu, beginning with:

"Why I am going to Ghana"

Memorable moments, Interesting shots ....

A few photos which didnt really fit into any of the other categories:

Josephine & Sarafina pounding fu-fu

Two roosters fighting

Two goats fighting

Cooking in the dark

One evening there was a blackout, couldn't use the stove. Everyone wanted to eat Akple/Banku - so we decided to cook outside using the "coal pot" - {My aunt Christie lighting a candle}

{This is a coal pot}

Random Bull

We were just sitting around one day, and out of nowhere this bull comes strolling down the street !! - no owner in sight.

Sporting my pride

Broom

Silly man

It was already a hot scorching aftrenoon - and then this silly man (a neighbour who was visiting Ghana from the States) decides to set this huge fire in his yard !

It soon got out of control.

Lonely outpost

Amsterdam

2007-05-26T01:53:00.000-04:00

Amsterdam

On my way back to Canada I passed through Amsterdam.

Here are a few random photos.

{House where Anne Frank's family was hidden}

{Wooden Shoes}

KWAME NKRUMAH

2007-05-25T17:26:00.000-04:00

While in Accra, I visited the Kwame Nkrumah Memorial Park.

This year is Ghana's Golden Jubilee. Fifty years ago Kwame Nkrumah led the struggle for independence. On March 06, 1957 Ghana was declared independent, making it the first African nation, below the Sahara to "shake off the chains of colonial rule."

Nkrumah was hailed as "Osagyefo" - which means "the victorious one" in the Akan language.
On the night of independence he declared :
"We are going to see that we create our own African personality and identity. We again rededicate ourselves in the struggle to emancipate other countries in Africa; for our independence is meaningless unless it is linked up with the total liberation of the African continent".

Nkrumah was also at the forefront of the Pan-African movement.

Pan-Africanism literally means 'all Africanism'. It is a sociopolitical world-view, as well as a movement, which seeks to unify and uplift both native Africans and those of the African diaspora as part of a "global African community"
Source: Wikipedia

{Entrance to K.N Museum}

In his 1961 book, I Speak of Freedom, Nkrumah discussed his vision for Africa:

"Divided we are weak; united, Africa could become one of the greatest forces for good in the world. I believe strongly and sincerely that with the deep-rooted wisdom and dignity, the innate respect for human lives, the intense humanity that is our heritage, the African race, united under one federal government, will emerge not as just another world bloc to flaunt its wealth and strength, but as a Great Power whose greatness is indestructible because it is built not on fear, envy and suspicion, nor won at the expense of others, but founded on hope, trust, friendship and directed to the good of all mankind."

{Myself, standing under Kwame Nkrumah statue}

{There are many beautiful peacocks like this roaming around the park}

Nkrumah was president until February 1966, when his government was overthrown in a CIA backed military coup, forcing him into exile.

He passed away in 1972 after a battle with cancer.

{Final resting place of Kwame Nkrumah}

KUMASI

2007-05-25T10:46:00.002-04:00

{Statue of Komfo Anokye}

The trip to Kumasi was very interesting. First we decided to take a bus rather than drive, since the car had given us some problems on the way back from Cape Coast. But just our luck we chose to take the STC (state transport) and it turns out the bus we got was cursed! I am still trying to figure out how a trip (Accra to Kumasi) that was only supposed to take four hours ends up taking eight! The bus was stopped twice – the first we broke down in this small town somewhere and ended up waiting around for about an hour while the bus driver (and some passengers) ran around the town trying to find a mechanic. Then they returned and another 30mins was spent fixing the problem. So that was 1.5hrs wasted. On the second occasion we were held up behind other vehicles in some very strange traffic jam on a road in the middle of nowhere. For 30 whole minutes the bus did not move. Finally the driver took the initiative to pull out and drive along the side of the road, but as soon as he did this we realized that it wasn’t even a traffic jam after all, just that the driver ahead of us had fallen asleep behind his wheel! Don’t ask how it was that no-one figured this out – long story (but part of it is that he was driving a huge tanker type vehicle, so it was impossible to see over him). So that was another 30mins wasted added onto the previous 1.5hrs. But still that only accounts for 2hrs of the extra 4hrs that it took the bus to get there. We left Accra at 9:30am and arrived in Kumasi at 5:30pm!! – Absolutely no-one I have spoken to since can believe that a trip from Accra to Kumasi would take that long – it just doesn’t happen.

So needless to say I was not in the best of moods by the time we arrived in Kumasi (but things would get worse for me that evening). The plan had been for us to arrive there at 1:30pm, go to my grandma’s place, and then spend the afternoon visiting some tourist sites. After that I was supposed to go meet up with my friend at the UST campus (one of my best friends from high school who I hadn’t seen in about 7 yrs) and spend the night with her. But already a part of the plan was ruined by our late arrival. We would not be able to do any sight-seeing; it would have to be pushed to the next day. Then we arrived at my grandma’s only to learn that there was a blackout! I was feeling so down, but cheered at the fact that I would soon be going to see my friend and was getting anxious to leave. But of course we had to eat first; my grandma was already busy preparing us a meal, there’s no way she would have allowed me to leave while she was cooking. Now when I say grandma, I am referring to my Grandmother’s younger sister, though in Ghana she is equally considered to be my grandmother. So I have to wait till after we have eaten, but meanwhile my uncle (who brought me to Kumasi and had earlier agreed that it would be a good idea for me to spend the night at my friend’s (so we’d have more time to catch up) tells me to call my friend to start getting details about how and where to meet her.

{While I was waiting: my young grandma's cat and dog - the best of friends}

After dinner I am all set and ready to leave. I call my friend so that she can speak to my uncle and give him directions. My grandma hears their conversation and realizes that I am intending to go somewhere that evening. Now if there is anything I have learnt about my family in Ghana it is that they are highly protective and my grandma is no exception. Arguing that it was way too late (7pm that is) and that Kumasi is much too dangerous, she instantly puts a halt to my plans. She says that if I must go at all, then I should wait until the next day to see my friend. But we are leaving Kumasi the next day and given how tight our schedule is already, I knew I would be very lucky to even get 30 minutes with my friend. Now bear in mind I am only just meeting my grandmother's younger sister (at least to my recollection) for the very first time. But she is still my grandma and in Ghana that means her word is final! I turn to my uncle who had previously been in support of the idea and was still on the phone with my friend. But now he too, not wanting to oppose his aunt, had changed his mind, and was now telling my friend that “perhaps it is too late after all!” I was totally stunned and felt so helpless I almost cried! I had been waiting for years to reunite with this friend and now I was being told that I couldn’t. In Canada, I live on my own and have been doing so for the last five years. I am responsible for myself and make all my own decisions. Now someone else was telling me what to do – I was not used to this. But if there is something I have been very mindful of since coming to Ghana, it is the way in which I carry myself. I understand that I am not just here for myself, but am also representing my family back in Canada. The last thing I want is to do or say anything that will leave a bad impression and reflect poorly on myself and my parents. So I knew I would have to handle this situation carefully. I could not argue with her – that would be the utmost sign of disrespect. Nor could I implore my uncle to appeal on my behalf – he had already switched sides.

{While I was waiting: I took this just a few minutes before the incident - how ironic}

So I sat there thinking of my friend who had been waiting all day for me and how disappointed she would be. I could choose to just keep quiet and let this chance slip by (then regret it for years to come) or I could speak up and hope for the best. I knew that I would never forgive myself if I let this go, so I mustered up enough courage and went forth to plead my case. In the sweetest voice ever I explained to her how this was my best friend from childhood, who had also been living “abroad” but then returned to live in Ghana and I haven’t seen her since. I explained how I really wanted to spend some time with her and that if I didn’t take this chance; I don’t know how many more years I would have to wait for another. Slowly, my grandma started to come around ... I knew that somewhere within her she would understand. So from a definite “it’s too late, you’re not going anywhere this evening”; I got her to change her mind. My uncle was impressed! So she allowed me to go, but not without some words of caution and strict instructions that I must be back in time for breakfast the next morning.

{Grandma Julie}

So that was my first introduction to my young Grandma Julie. I got to spend more time with her after that and I just totally adore her! She’s got the kindest heart and I now realize that her not wanting me to go out that night was not from any mean intentions, but purely out of her care and concern for me.

Kumasi Zoo, Cultural Center, Palace and Komfo Anokye Sword

The next day my Grandma Julie arranged for her driver to take us around Kumasi. We visited the Kumasi National Zoo, the Cultural Center and the palace of the Ashanti royals. We then went to see the legendary sword of Komfo Anokye. He was a Chief Fetish Priest from the 16th century who is credited for unifying the scattered independent chiefdoms of the Ashanti into one unified Empire. Komfo Anokye was a man of considerable spiritual strength and he had a large sword which he is said to have driven into the ground to signify the unity and longevity of the Ashanti nation.

He announced that the sword would forever remain planted in the ground and that neither no-one nor nothing would ever be able to move it. The sword has remained exactly where he planted it for over 400 years. Throughout history numerous attempts have been made to remove the sword; experts from all over the world have been brought in to examine it, and various machines have been used to try force it out of the ground – but to date all have failed and the legend of Komfo Anokye’s sword lives on.

{Komfo Anokye’s sword remains exactly where he planted it}

{Komfo Anokye’s sword}

Age and Respect

2007-05-24T23:57:00.001-04:00

{Mother and Child}

In Ghana age is not “just a number”, it is a measure of one’s place within his/her family and community. Age is associated with having knowledge, experience and wisdom; hence the older a person is the more respect he/she is given. There are strict mores dictating how one should behave towards his/her elders and these are very closely adhered to. In many western societies, for example, there is this “call me by my first name” custom whereby people tend to prefer for others (including young children) to address them by their first names. So you have young children calling adults directly by their first names, just as they would call their friends. Because of such practices, the line between adult and peer becomes blurred (to the child). In Ghana this would not be acceptable – an adult is an adult and a child a child. It is important that this distinction is made. Also when it comes to discipline, Ghanaians are believers of the philosophy that “it takes a village to raise a child”. A child belongs not only to his/her parents alone, but to the entire community. As such when the child is outside the home others can assume responsibility for his/her discipline if the parents (or other caregiver) are not around and the child is doing something which is detrimental to his/her well being or to that of others.

{A set of triplets that I met in the town od Dzodze}

So long as someone is older than you, in Ghana he/she will always have certain standing over you. Even if the person is only a minute or two older than you (as my dad is to his twin brother) he/she is still afforded all the rights and respect of being your elder. I have a cousin who is the exact same age as I; only that I was born 2 months before him. As infants we did everything together; we lived together, played together, bathed together and sometimes we even wore matching clothes. We were being brought up as one and because of this up until the age of four; I had actually believed that he was my twin brother! Now that we are adults, between the two of us we are still just the “same age”, but to the rest of the family we are not. I entered this world 2 months before him and in their eyes that is enough to make him my “little brother”. He hates this classification, and I don’t blame him. Now every time he does something wrong they say to me “look at how your little brother is behaving, you must talk to him, you have to advise him”. To him it is extremely annoying, but I must admit I find it kind of funny.

{Children under tree}

{Young girls playing}

There are many privileges that come with being older than someone. But I also see the way in which these can be abused. Being older than someone does not necessarily guarantee that one knows better or is always right. Nor should it automatically give one the right to order and control the other person “do this, do that”, all because they are older and therefore you cannot question their authority. I love the great emphasis placed on age and respect in Ghanaian society. I think it is a good custom that benefits the overall social development of the nation. But it is when individuals start abusing it, then I start to have a problem with it.

{Elderly lady; she got very excited when she saw me with my camera and insisted that I take her photo to "show people in Canada"}

KETA – Returning Home

2007-05-24T20:41:00.001-04:00

{Myself}

I returned to Keta again this weekend; I just had to. My time there last weekend was like a whirlwind; my uncle and I had to be back in Accra on Sunday and would only have one night in Keta, so from the moment we arrived we began racing to get everything done. There were places to go, people to see, pictures to take – we went dashing from one stop to the next. The greatest obligation when visiting one’s hometown is the number of people you must greet. First stops were made to some of my ancestral family homes; Dzuali-Arnold, Tamakloe and Lassey households where I was warmly met by several relatives, many of whom I had never met before (or only remember vaguely from my childhood) yet they all seemed to know me.

{Aunt's house in Dzodze}

{Some family toasting to my arrival}

{Family home in Tadzewu}

The rest of that Saturday was spent racing around Keta to various places that I was anxious to see, and then the next morning we were up very early to drive to Abor, Dzodze and Tadzewu (neighbouring towns) and then back again to Keta, all before returning to Accra. Altogether that weekend I got to see and visit; the hospital and maternity ward where I was born, the very first school I ever attended, the schools my parents went to, the various houses where my parents grew up, the church where I was baptized, the stores that my grandparents once owned and the homes that they built, the slave Fort Prinzenstein, the Keta Lagoon and much more. With all this my agenda was so tight that I barely had the chance to just pause and take a moment to really appreciate being home.

{Fetish walls in Abutsiakorpe, Keta}

I regretted this so much I felt obligated to make another trip there this weekend and this time the pace was a lot slower. I got to see more of the town in a more meaningful way and to spend real quality time with some of my relatives there. I sat for hours talking with the elders about times gone past and listened closely as they recounted details of my genealogy. I was told about my (maternal) great-grandfather Chief Julius Nyaho Tamakloe II and his father before him Chief Nyaho Tamakloe I (who had well over 100 children, and also lived for well over 100 years). I learnt new details about Sir John Wilson Arnold (alias Dzuali) my great-grandfather (paternal) who came up from very humble beginnings but made his way to England where he lived for many years and even received an honourary knighthood. One by one I learnt more about my ancestors. I was so intrigued by the lives of these men and women, whose stories I found to be so remarkable and all of whom I am a part of. I could not stop asking questions.

{My great-grandfather}

{My great-great-grandfather}

Later that afternoon I roamed the streets of Keta with my cousins. I was amazed at the number of people who ran up to welcome me. Word travels very fast in small towns and everyone knew who I was. People told me how they were related to me “hey, don’t you know me, I am your mother’s cousin’s wife!” or “your dad and I used to best friends, we went to elementary school together!” Those who happened to have seen me as an infant before we first left Ghana, put on a greater display; screams of “Oh my God”, hugs, kisses, “Oh look how much you’ve grown, you were just a baby when you left!” It was all pretty overwhelming, but also very nice being among people who are so welcoming and really take you as their own.

{Some of my family in Keta}

{Dzuali home in Keta}

{My Uncle Kudjovi}

As the sun began to set, my cousins and I headed towards the beach; we wanted to watch the sun melt into the ocean. The waters were very calm that evening; nothing like the angry crashing waves I remember from my childhood. It was then that I began to see some of the progress made by the Sea Defense Project. Once upon a time the beach was considered too dangerous a place to be and only fishermen ever ventured into the waters. But now people also frequent the beach for leisure.

{People relaxing on Keta Beach}

We ran around like children playing in the sand. I challenged myself to catch a crab without being clawed and succeeded with a rather large one (much to the surprise of my cousins). We lay down in the sand and watched the sun set. In front of us we listened to the quiet hiss of the ocean as it calmed its waves for the night and behind us we could hear the distant voices and laughter of people in the town. At that moment I experienced the true feeling of being home.

{Sun setting over Keta Beach}

My impressions of Keta last weekend left me feeling depressed, but that is because my attention focused only on the losses of the town. All I could think of was things that were no more; the people who had left, the market that had slowed, the buildings that were crumbling. But my time here this weekend has shown me other things. True, the Keta of today is not the same as it was when I was born or the other years when I came back to visit, nor is it the same Keta my parents knew as children. But the strong sense of attachment and belonging that I felt towards the town has shown me that despite all the changes, in essence, the Keta of yesterday is still the same Keta of today. It still bares the same soul. The spirit of Keta has not left, and it is that same spirit which nurtured and watched over my ancestors, that has now welcomed me back home.

{Me, excited over a capsized boat lying on the beach}

{As night falls; Myself and my nephew Komivi looking out into the ocean}

Sunset over Keta

KETA – “The Sea Eats the Land at Home”

2007-05-24T14:26:00.003-04:00

I left Ghana at the age of four, till then I had lived in the small coastal town of Keta, located in the Volta Region. Keta lies along Ghana’s southern shores, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. It is known for its beautiful beaches and lagoon, (Keta lagoon the largest in Ghana).

{Keta Lagoon}

Since leaving Ghana, I have visited Keta on two other occasions (last in 1998); this weekend I returned for the third time. This visit, however, was not at all like the rest where I would spend several weeks of my vacation in Keta; this time I only spent a night. I still have many relatives living there (it is impossible not to as in some way or another you are related to just about the entire town), but no-one of my immediate extended family (i.e. direct uncles, aunts, first cousins etc). In previous years it was for my grandmother (who insisted on remaining there) that we spent the majority of our vacations there. But she too has now been moved to Accra, where my uncles reside.

{Dzelukorpe Hospital - where I was born}

{Street where I once lived}

{Dzelukorpe Roman Catholic Church - where I was baptized}

{Ketasco - I had just started attending pre-school here, when we left Ghana}

{A well in the house where I once lived - we used to play under the coconut trees here}

Keta now appears to be a ghost town; deserted by her children, most of whom have left her shores in search of greener pastures. The town seems quite empty, compared to what it used to be and those who remain, wander around with a strange look of restlessness about their faces.

{Woman in the distance strolling past tree}

The Keta market which once served as the heart of the town no longer bustles with the same energy it once did. Now all the merchants (and their customers) have aged; they no longer frequent the market or have completely closed up their stalls. The younger generation who might have taken up their trade, are now too few in number to restore the life and vitality of the market.

{Lonesome tree outside Keta market}

The buildings all stand in a melancholic state. Their grayish, brown walls tell the story of their neglect – decades gone by without renovation. But stubbornly they remaining standing; strong solid structures, grand in style and stature. The architecture is closely European, reminiscent of the colonial era in which they were built.

{Random man who asked me to take his photo}

{Young boy mimicking me with my camera}

But throughout the years, the source of the Keta’s greatest sorrows has consistently been the Atlantic Ocean. It washed upon her shores the very first European explorers and thereafter brought in hundreds more to exploit her lands and people for several hundred years. And it was this same ocean that took away from her shores millions of her children across its waters to foreign lands where they would become enslaved and be treated as animals for yet another several hundred years.

This same ocean, the Atlantic Ocean, has also for several decades now been eating away at the town of Keta. We all marveled at the 2004 tsunami and the scope of its destruction. Keta has been experiencing something similar, only that it has been spread out over decades. It is common to hear stories of people having their entire homes washed away by the ocean. There isn’t a single family in Keta which hasn’t been affected in some way or the other by the coastal erosion.

{Once a very big school, over 60% of it was destroyed by the ocean. This is what remains}

{Another building destroyed by the ocean}

When my mum was in her teens her home was also taken by the ocean. She tells us stories of how they returned from church one morning to find all their furniture and belongings floating in the water, being washed out to sea. Buildings which once dotted the coastline; homes, churches, schools, forts etc have all been washed away. This gradual encroachment of the ocean onto the land has been going on for generations. My parents always tell me that the Keta I know today is no where near the size it used to be, and their parents before them also told them the same.

By the time of Ghana’s independence in 1957, over half of Keta had already been taken by the ocean. Today it is estimated that only a third of Keta remains; that is since the arrival of our ancestors during the 15th century after their dramatic escape from the kingdom of Notsie, when Togbui Whenya and his followers first laid eyes on the beautiful landscape and decided to settle there. Since that time about 70% of the Keta that they saw and fell in love with no longer exists. It lies beneath the Atlantic Ocean.

Recently the Ghanaian government initiated the Keta Sea Defense project. Efforts from this venture have helped push the ocean back a bit, and some small strips of land across the coast have been reclaimed. But still the threat of further erosion remains.

"The sea eats the land at home" - This is a popular poem, written by poet Kofi Awoonor, which tells the story Keta’s troubles with the Atlantic ocean.

The Sea Eats the Land at Home

At home the sea is in the town,
Running in and out of the cooking places,
Collecting the firewood from the hearths
And sending it back at night;
The sea eats the land at home.
It came one day at the dead of night,
Destroying the cement walls,
And carried away the fowls,
The cooking-pots and the ladles,
The sea eats the land at home;
It is a sad thing to hear the wails,
And the mourning shouts of the women,
Calling on all the gods they worship,
To protect them from the angry sea.
Aku stood outside where her cooking-pot stood,
With her two children shivering from the cold,
Her hands on her breasts,
Weeping mournfully.
Her ancestors have neglected her,
Her gods have deserted her,
It was a cold Sunday morning,
The storm was raging,
Goats and fowls were struggling in the water,
The angry water of the cruel sea;
The lap-lapping of the bark water at the shore,
And above the sobs and the deep and low moans,
Was the eternal hum of the living sea.
It has taken away their belongings
Adena has lost the trinkets which
Were her dowry and her joy,
In the sea that eats the land at home,
Eats the whole land at home.

{Sun setting over Keta}

More on Keta please read - "KETA - Returning Home"

Signs of Beauty

2007-05-24T13:49:00.001-04:00

Between my two front teeth there is a gap. My feelings towards this gap have always been two-fold. At times I like it and enjoy the unique touch that it adds to my features, but then there are other times when I truly detest it. Living in a western society that prizes perfect straight teeth; having a gap between one’s teeth is thought to be a problem and hence something that should be “fixed”. Because of this I have on numerous occasions considered getting braces (or preferably invisalign) to close up my gap. But what I may have considered a nuisance in the past is now my pride in Ghana. A gap between the two front teeth is a very desirable trait here; it is thought to be a great sign of beauty and is very much sought after. But the gap does not appear to be rare in my family; many of my relatives here have one. I love having this in common with them and am also enjoying the compliments that come with it.

{My friend " Peace "}

Another measure of beauty in Ghanaian society (and most of West Africa) is the wearing of beads by women around their waist. Beads are worn from early infancy and all through adulthood. They serve many purposes among which it is also believed that the wearing of beads helps in the proper development of a woman’s figure. There are many different kinds of beads; various shapes, colours, sizes and also they may be worn in different ways – some females may just wear a single row of beads, whereas others may wear up to as many as ten (or even more) rows. I remember having beads around my waist as a very young child, but then as I got older they seemed to disappear – I’m not sure what happened to them. It was never an issue on my mind until coming to Ghana. Since my arrival I have noticed that every woman (and young girl) around me wears beads. All of my aunts, cousins and nieces are all wearing beads! I was starting to feel very left out being the only “non-bead wearing” female and also some of my family thought it wasn’t proper. So they obtained some beads for me and I had them strung around my waist. I am now feeling more like a complete Ghanaian woman! I love my beads.

Torwoli S. Dzuali © 2007

{Woman with beads}

Road Rules

2007-05-24T13:12:00.003-04:00

Driving in Ghana can be a nightmare. Each time I sit in a car, I feel I must pause to say a prayer. Already in my short time here we have had many close calls. The drivers can be reckless and it appears that little regard is given to traffic regulations – people just seem to drive however they want. Even choosing to walk one must be careful; there are few sidewalks (but many roadside gutters), so you must very tightly maneuver your way along the side of the road with cars dashing by you. I find this very frightening and often try to keep as close to the edge of the road as possible. However you must also be careful not to get too close to the edge or else you run the risk of falling off the road altogether and into the gutter!

Here in Accra most roads within the city centre and all the major highways/motorways etc, are in excellent condition – but it is the smaller neighbourhood streets that are the problem. Aside from the numerous potholes, it is also not uncommon to be driving along and then all of a sudden come across a huge unsealed manhole right in the center of the road! I first encountered one of these while driving around with my uncle, when suddenly this huge hole appeared before us. I was shocked!! Potholes I was familiar with, but not these. My uncle just laughed and casually drove around it, like it was nothing. I have since seen many others like this, but am still startled each time.

{Roads can go from excellent!}

{To extremely bad}

Such is the situation when it comes to driving in Ghana. But if you totally must drive, the best advise I can probably give is to always be cautious of the other drivers around you, try to dodge as many holes as possible and most definitely
DO NOT DRIVE AT NIGHT!

The Family Unit

2007-05-24T11:41:00.000-04:00

{My little sweetheart - Cousin Kobe}

In Ghana there is great emphasis placed on the family unit and a person’s position within it. It is a collectivist society whereby the interests and goals of the family (or community) are placed above those of the individual. The family unit is thought to consist not only of immediate members (e.g. parents, siblings, grand-parents or first cousins) but extends to include just about everyone connected to one’s lineage.

{Nephews in Keta}

{Cosuin Dodzi}

Second and third cousins are not classified as such, rather they are just called “cousins” (or in some cases your brothers and sisters) and the siblings (or cousins) of your grandparents are not referred to as your “great-aunts, great-uncles”, but are equally known as your grandparents. In some cases members of one’s neighbourhood or local community may also come to be considered as a part of one’s family. Hence the definition of family is very broad, but there is great cohesion within the unit.

{My baby nephew K.K}

This closeness and unity among family members is probably what I have found to be most impressive about Ghanaian culture. From infancy people are instilled with a strong sense of responsibility and loyalty towards their families and these values remain with them throughout life. You will always find for instance people who have their own children but have also taken in and are raising some of their nieces and nephews. This is very common because if the real parents are unable to (due to death, lack of resources etc) it is expected that another family member should step in – and those who take on the responsibility do not complain; rather you will only hear them say “It’s my duty”.

{Cousin Shika and Auntie Doris}

{Cousins Senanum & Noel}

This strong sense of responsibility and care towards family was instantly apparent to me upon my arrival when four different uncles showed up at the airport to meet me. I appreciate the ease with which I have been blended into the family unit here. Because I did not grow up here and have not been back in almost a decade, I kind of expected that it would be difficult to fit in. But the love and care shown towards me has been no different than that shared between other family members. My uncles and aunts do not introduce me as their “niece”, but as their “daughter”, and to my cousins I am not that distant cousin who they haven’t seen in many years or perhaps never met before, but rather I am just the “sister who has been away”. I really cherish this sense of “oneness”.

{My favourite Uncle Tsidi !}

There is a downside, however, to the whole large tight-knit extended family unit; I think after awhile I would start feeling a bit smothered. There is little room for individuality; the family sets the standards and expectations for who you should be and that is essentially who you become. Also there is no such thing as privacy - your business is the family’s business. Everything you do is closely scrutinized, and can be openly discussed by anyone at anytime.

{My lovely niece "All Nice " - and that is her actual name!}

{Cousin Seyram, my little sister}

I have been present on numerous occasions when a discussion (or sometimes argument) regarding another family member’s conduct is brought up. And often there is no censorship; all of that person’s business is exposed so that the rest of the family may play judge and jury. I do not necessarily like this approach and sometimes I do think the level of intrusion goes too far. But at the end of the day that’s just how things are done and you must accept it. And you cannot complain because it is that same family (who you were wishing to stay out of your business) who will also be the first to come to your aid in times of need.

{Cousin Tsatsu}

{Cousin Shorla}

That is something I find most commendable about families here is the way in which members rally together in times of crisis. Everyone works together for the strength and growth of the family and although there may be disagreements still at the end of the day it is the overall family interest that prevails!

{My aunt & two uncles, walking in solidarity !!}

Memorable moment:

Here's my 2 yr old cousin Kobe trying to help me do my laundry. Well, he went from wanting to help me, to taking over the whole operation.

Doing Laundry Kobe Style

Step 1: Soak the clothes in water and pour in some detergent.

Step 2: Push clothes deep into water and twist around (never mind removing the detergent packet)

Step 3: Pull out from water, and then repeat dipping process. Take a moment to smile for the camera.

Step 4: Still with your eyes on the camera, continue the "in -out" dipping process. Keep that smile shining and then just let the water do the rest.

Eventually the clothes will somehow end up here. Then you're done! - Well done Kobe !!! :-)

CAPE COAST

2007-05-23T13:26:00.001-04:00

The last few days that I spent in Cape Coast have been the most eventful of my trip so far and my time there was both fun as it was sobering. I had an incredible time at the Kakum National park where I ventured across the famous canopy walkway and went bird watching. But my mood quickly dampened the next day when I visited Elmina Castle, Fort St Jago, Cape Coast Castle and Donkor Nsuo (The Slave River) at Assin Manso.

Kakum National Park

The Kakum National park is one of the most known national parks in the country. It covers an area of 357km2 and consists of the best preserved region of virgin rainforest in the country.
My number one reason for wanting to go to Kakum was to attempt the canopy walk. But before my arrival there I had always assumed that there was just one walkway set up between two trees. I did not realize that there are actually seven!

It is set up like a circular tour, seven different bridges (made of cargo net, aluminum ladders, and wooden planks), swaying high up above the forest floor. The bridges are upto 40 meters off the ground, and the entire course runs over 330 meters in lenghth. And the circular design, essentially means that once you start, you must complete the course (to get back where you started) – there is no turning back! Truly the experience is not for the faint of heart; the creaking planks, the swaying ropes. The best advise would be to “not look down”, but you are literally suspended above the rainforest, and the view below is just too spectaular, to resist!

{There I go - I'm on my way, but taking the bag wasn't such a good idea!}

{Elephant skull at Kakum}

For more info on Kakum National Park please visit: http://www.ghanatourism.gov.gh/regions/highlight_detail.asp?id=&rdid=65

Ghana and the Atlantic Slave Trade

Ghana was formerly known as the Gold Coast, and early European traders flocked to its shores eager to prosper of the region’s gold. The trade in gold, however, was soon replaced by a trade in human beings. Africans were being captured and shipped across the Atlantic to be used on plantations in the Americas and the Caribbean. The trans-Atlantic slave trade became very profitable and subsequently lasted for over 300 years.

{On the walls on Fort Prinzenstein, Keta}

Ghana became one of the primary centers of the trade and its mark has been left along Ghana’s coastline. “Of the 45 forts and castles built by Europeans on the West African coast, 32 were in Ghana and no less than 96 fortifications were built along Ghana’s coast.”
As a very young child I remember playing with my cousins in an old abandoned building along the beach in Keta. Its solid walls and many dark rooms made it perfect for playing hide and seek. It also had a large, wide balcony, which we would climb and hold competitions jumping off onto the sand below. It was not until just recently, that I realized what this building which had served as our “playground” actually was and the history that it held. These and several hundred other sites (remnants of the slave trade) remain scattered all over Ghana. They stand as reminders of a ghoulish past that humanity must never see repeated again. I could not come to Ghana and leave without visiting some of these sites.

{Old Fort, Keta}

Torwoli S. Dzuali © 2007

The Last Bath - Donkor Nsuo (The Slave River) at Assin Manso

From their places of capture many enslaved Africans were then brought to the slave market at Assin Manso. At a time when there were no cars, trains, trucks or airplanes their only means of travel was by foot. So they would walk for days, weeks, sometimes even months, shackled and chained, with stocks around their necks until they reached Assin Manso.

{Window looking out into the forests at Assin Manso. In this forest there are mass graves, containing the remains of captives who could not survive the journey beyond Assin Manso}

{Walking down path in forest to the "Last Bath" river}

Upon their arrival there, they (those who had survived the journey) would then be sorted out; the children from the adults, the men from the women, the strong from the weak. Then the buying and selling would begin as the slave raiders (who were responsible for the capture) negotiated with the slave traders (who would take the captives across the Atlantic).

While at Assin Manso the captive Africans would also be marched down to the river to take a bath. This would be their very “last bath” within African shores. From there they would then begin the march toward Elmina or Cape Coast Castle, where they would remain, locked away in dungeons, until a ship arrived to take them across the Atlantic.

{River where captives took their "Last Bath"}

{Tour guide collecting some of the water for me to take back with me}

{Some young children I met at Assin Manso}

Elmina Castle

Elmina Castle is the oldest existing European building in sub-Saharan Africa. The castle was originally built by the Portuguese in 1482 to be used as a trading post in what was then a very booming trade in gold and other minerals being extracted from Ghanaian lands. Its strategic location gained the Portuguese a trade monopoly and it was highly sought after by other European powers. Many battles were fought for control of the castle and subsequently ownership also fell to the Dutch and then the British.

As the trans-Atlantic slave trade grew and the trade in human beings became more profitable, the “storerooms of the castle were converted into dungeons” to house African captives. Captured men and women were brought to Elmina from all over Ghana and other parts of West Africa. After several weeks, sometimes months, of walking (shackled in chains) they would finally arrive at Elmina. Here they would be packed into the dark, cold dungeons, several hundred at a time, with absolutely no room to move, let alone enough air to breathe. These grueling days spent at Elmina would be their final days in Africa.

{Draw-bridge @ Elmina entrance}

{On my way into Elmina}

A visit to Elmina will leave you with chills. The castle’s bright white exterior stands in contrast to the great darkness concealed behind its walls. Walking through the tunnels and dungeons I was overcome with emotions I am still unable to describe. It is one thing to read about and to view pictures, but the actual experience is another. And knowledge of the great evils perpetrated there will leave you haunted for days.

That human beings can commit such evil against each other is a wonder. Yet the greatest irony of it all is the presence of “religion” within the castle walls. There is a church at its very centre and all through the rooms (in the quarters where the slave traders lived) are inscriptions quoting bible verses and statements asking God to “Bless” those who dwell there.

{One of the dungeons where female captives were kept - that small gap was the only source of air}

{Ball and chain, used to punish captives}

{View from where the govenor would stand, and below the female captives would be brought out for him to choose those he wanted sleep with}

{Tunnel at Elmina}
{Looking Out}

{"Gate Of No Return" - final door through which captives would pass 'one at a time' before being marched onto ships waiting to take them across the Atlantic}

Outside one of the dungeon doors a newer inscription has been made. It is a plaque that reads:

“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.”

These words are monumental.

But has humanity learnt its lesson?

Torwoli S. Dzuali © 2007

Cape Coast Castle

Originally built as a fort by the Swedes who named it Carolusburg after King Charles X of Sweden. It was later captured by the Danes and then the British. The British rebuilt the fort transforming it into a castle. Millions of Africans were kept in dungeons here before being shipped to the Americas and the castle became the second largest slave trading post in the world, after Elmina.

Fort St. Jago (Coenraadsburg)

This fort is the “oldest purely military architecture of the Gold Coast". It is within walking distance from the Elmina Castle, standing on a hill directly opposite it. It is from this hill (St Jago) that the Dutch successfully launched their attacks against the Portuguese and gained control over Elmina Castle. After their victory, the Dutch built the Fort Coenraadsburg (commonly known as Fort St. Jago) to be used in defending the castle. The fort was only used for military purposes and as quarters for soldiers and officers on guard at the castle (Elmina).

{Fort St Jago}

{Elmina Fishing Fleets}

GMT – Ghana Maybe Time

2007-05-23T12:23:00.001-04:00

In Ghana, things are run on a “Maybe” schedule – maybe this bus will arrive on time, maybe the store will open at 9am as it says on the door, maybe I will get some service before I get too frustrated and leave this line! People tend to have a very relaxed attitude towards time here, and will most often do things at whatever pace they deem comfortable. A Ghanaian cannot and will not be rushed – I have quickly learnt this lesson. Being unfamiliar with the country makes me totally reliant on others; something I am not at all used to. I tend to be a compulsive list-maker and planner. I like to schedule my days and to get things done in a timely manner. But that is not working for me here. If there is anything I need to get done, or somewhere I need to go I am forced to depend on the assistance of others and then it is their schedule, not mine, which must be followed.

{young boys enjoying a game of "Ludo" - extremely popular in Ghana}

Though I also notice that Ghanaians are extremely hard-working and perhaps it is for this reason that they really value their rest time. Weekends and holidays are reserved exclusively for family and relaxation. On the surface it will appear that people are just sitting around doing nothing and that was my initial impression. We were spending a lot of time chatting, napping or just sitting around outside in the yard.

{Cousins chatting in my aunt's store}

This was making me very uneasy, I was constantly restless, always fidgeting and looking around for something to do. I didn’t realize this till one day my cousin asked me “What exactly is your problem, don’t you ever rest?” It was then that it dawned on me, she was right I didn’t rest; I couldn’t rest, because I didn’t know how. North American society is not one where people pause to take mid-day siestas; we live in a world of speed, where we are constantly trying to beat the clock. Always on the move, one place to the next and technology has spoilt us to the point where we no longer even understand what it means to “wait”.

That is the world I’m used to, but is this robotic existence better? Here in Ghana people seem happier, they spend more time with their families, and appear to have a greater appreciation of life. I now see some of the benefits to Ghana’s more laidback way of life and although it initially irritated me, I am beginning to think that perhaps Ghana Maybe Time is not such a bad thing after all.

{Family members gathered under a tree, enjoying each other's company on a Sunday afternoon}

“Can You Hear Me Now?”

2007-05-22T20:38:00.000-04:00

Cell phones, cell phones, cell phones – my goodness every living organism here owns a cell phone – some two, some three, some four! I think because landlines are more costly (and less reliable) people figure that they are better off with cell phones. I didn’t bother to bring mine along with me (was too worried about what would have been very astronomical roaming charges) but it should have occurred to me that all I’d have to do was to change the chip. But it is considered such a “no-no” to be without a cell phone in Ghana that my uncle has gone out of his way to get me one – a brand new one to use for the duration of my stay. I had thought I could just leech off someone else’s; after all its not like I really have that many people here to be calling anyway, but apparently its important that others are still able to reach me; especially since I have no fixed residence and just seem to be rotating my stay with different relatives. So a cell phone has been placed in my hands and now I am trying to understand the system. In Canada, I have a monthly plan that gives me X weekday minutes, plus unlimited evenings and weekends. Here everyone uses a credit system whereby you purchase units as you go. There are several different companies; areeba, one touch, tigo, kasaapa etc – I don’t really know what the differences are between them (or if there are any). But right now I have purchased a “one touch” chip for my phone. We’ll see how it goes.

Shopping in Ghana - “My Sista Buy This, Buy That”

2007-05-22T16:43:00.000-04:00

Shopping in Ghana is truly an experience in itself; there are numerous ways in which one can go about it.

Neighbourhood Vendors

There are the local neighbourhood vendors who set up their stalls by the side of the road. All you have to do is just step out of your front gate and you are instantly met with an array of goods and services. There are stalls selling fresh fruits and veggies, prepared meals like kenkey and fufu, some selling appetizers like kele wele and chichinga, some selling clothing and accessories and others electronics and household items. There are also stalls offering services; the most common are the hairdressers, but then you can also find stalls for shoe repair, tailoring and numerous other services.

{A typical hairdressing kiosk - there's a couple in every neighbourhood}

{Or sometimes you can have the hairdresser come to you}

Walking Vendors

For those who are too lazy or busy to step beyond their gates and out into the streets where the neighbourhood vendors dwell; you can simply remain within your house and have what you want brought to you instead. This is made possible by the stream of “walking vendors” who patrol the streets going from house to house selling their goods. You would be surprised at the great variety of items that they bring. So far in my one week of being here we have had people selling pillows, shoes, jewelry, clothing, bags, books and even underwear all come to the house. And often they will come directly to the front door themselves (especially if you are a regular customer) or you can call for them when they pass by your house – you can always make out what they are selling as their large loads (which they carry on their heads) will often tower above your fence.

{First the vendor walks in ringing her bell, to let you know she is coming}

{check out the goods and buy what you want}

{when done, you must help her place the load back on her head}

{Then she's all set and on her way! - till next week}

Traffic Shopping

There is also what I like to refer to as “traffic shopping”. It is very common in Ghana to have people running up to your vehicle trying to sell you stuff. Often you will fall prey to this practice if you happen to be on a highway and get caught in traffic or if your vehicle should be brought to a halt by traffic lights or slowed at an intersection. So long as you are stationary, for even just a second, the vendors will swarm towards you, pushing their merchandise through your window and urging you to buy. I find the whole practice to be very dangerous and am often afraid for the vendors (some of them just very young children) as they race along with traffic weaving their way through the rows of cars. But I am yet to do any traffic shopping myself – between grabbing the item, assessing it, making the payment and getting your change (all while the car is still moving) I find that there just isn’t enough time!

{Young boy selling flags in traffic}

Stores

For those who dare not be adventurous and try something new; there are of course regular stores as well, no different from those you would find across North America or Europe. With this “traditional” method of shopping the buyer simply walks into the store, picks out whatever item he/she desires, makes a payments and leaves. There is not much more to be told about this process.

Market

Finally we arrive at the market – what I consider to be the most interesting method of shopping in Ghana. There are all kind of markets, some are specialized (e.g. selling only fresh foods and produce, others only crafts, some for clothes etc), and then there are larger more general markets where you can find just about everything and anything. The most popular one of all is Makola market located in the nation’s capital Accra. The market is legendary for its size, and despite being destroyed by flames on more than one occasion the area has been re-built and Makola continues to rein as the nation’s leading market.

Going to the market can be a very exciting experience, yet also quite intimidating. The excitement comes with the overall lively atmosphere that appears to be characteristic of most Ghanaian markets. The instant you arrive you are met with a flood of activity; the voices, the laughter, people moving in all directions, bright colours, and tremendous variety in goods and services. The intimidation is felt by any novice, such as myself. I have been to three different kinds of markets so far, and I found the experience at each to be very overwhelming. The worst was the craft market at the Arts Centre. Here I learnt that vendors do not just sit around waiting for you to come to them, they approach you themselves. Vendors rush at you from all directions, some call out at you from their stalls “my sista, my sista come here I have something for you!”; while others will literally come and grab you by the hand “my sista come with me I want to show you something”.

For a minute all the attention will make you feel special, but very soon it becomes too much, you are stopped every second, you can barely move and you soon realize that your plans of “scanning” the entire market will not happen (unless you have an entire day to spare). Having little experience at this I find it very difficult to ignore the vendors or to just walk away and so I keep getting dragged into long discussions trying to explain why I cannot buy from them. But they claw onto you so tight; soon their friends (or relatives) also surround you - they may grab you a chair to sit down, and then bring out more merchandise “oh you don’t like this one, how about this, how about that”, and then they start slashing the price, offering you more for less, telling you how great a deal you will be getting, and how you are their friend, they like you etc.. It’s a tremendous amount of pressure and if you are not careful you will end up spending on items you had no interest in buying only because you “don’t want to be rude” or want to get away from the situation.

{This man followed me around the entire market and would not let me go till I bought his Oware game set (in hand) }

The Power of Negotiation

The best thing about buying in Ghana is the negotiable prices! Nothing is ever really bought at its original price. You can get all kinds of great bargains, but it all depends on how good you are. Sometimes the deal you get may seem so good that you start to feel guilty (especially when you convert the amount into dollars). But then I am also aware that for everything there are two prices: the price for nationals and the price for foreigners. My accent makes me a foreigner, so as much as possible I try to avoid speaking. But I have been forced to bargain on my own a couple of times and surprisingly I seem to be pretty good at it!

{My Aunt Christie negotiating the price of a skirt}

Ghanaian Hospitality

2007-05-22T14:21:00.001-04:00

Ghanaians are probably the warmest, most welcoming and friendliest people you will come across – and that is not a personal biased opinion of mine; it is a reputation expressed by most tourists who visit the country. It is very easy to make friends in Ghana and especially if you are a foreigner people will always go out of their way to assist you.

{Cousin Yayra in Keta}

One thing I have really been enjoying here in Ghana is the ease with which I can blend in. I am not just the “token black person” added for the sake of diversity. I am actually a part of the crowd – I fit in. That is of course until I open my mouth and then my accent gives me away! But then still that is not a bad thing because of the response I get. People want to know where I’m from, how am I liking Ghana, which sites have I visited, would I like them to accompany me anywhere?

{ My friends "the drummers"}

In North America (where we most often we don’t even know our neighbours) people tend to be guarded and suspicious of each other, but here people are more open and trusting. It is very easy to strike up a conversation with a stranger, soon you’re chatting away like old friends and before you know it they’ve invited you into their home and you’re meeting their entire family. Ghanaians just have a way of making you feel special, and although very flattering, I must admit it can also at times be embarrassing – especially if you are not one who enjoys being the center of attention.

But overall people in Ghana just want to be your friend and once they take a liking to you they will be most willing to go out of their way for you. Inviting you to their home, giving you gifts, cooking for you and introducing you to their family are all common gestures that may be made, all just to help make you feel welcomed. Akwaaba!

Want to Lose Weight?

2007-05-22T13:57:00.004-04:00

Come to Ghana! You are sure to sweat it off within a few weeks! If there is anything I am finding most difficult about Ghana at the moment it is the EXTREME HEAT!! It is like sitting in a sauna 24/7; one is constantly sweating. It has been quite a shock for my body, coming from sub-zero Canadian temperatures to such extreme heat. But I am not the only one complaining, everyday Ghanaians are too.

The heat is made more unbearable by the ongoing blackouts currently being experienced throughout the country. The blackouts are being blamed on the drying up of the Akosombo dam [located in the South-Eastern part of the country by Lake Volta, the largest man-made lake in the world]. Some dispute this claim and are highly critical of the government’s response to the energy crisis. But whatever the case, all I know is that for a few hours each day the electricity is turned off. There is supposed to be a schedule which people can use to determine exactly when the power will go off and everyone here seems to understand it – but so far, to me the blackouts still seem rather random. Now imagine yourself in this heat, barely getting by and then on top of it not being able to use your fan or air conditioner either because of the blackouts? That is what we are dealing with.

Torwoli S. Dzuali © 2007

En Route to Ghana

2007-05-22T13:41:00.003-04:00

My trip to Ghana was not the smoothest of trips. A cancellation of the flight (KLM) that was supposed to take me from Amsterdam to Accra left me taking a flight from Amsterdam to London instead, and then from London to Accra. In the initial booking of my tickets I had intentionally gone out of my way to avoid passing through England and the United States (for political and security reasons). But despite my efforts, as fate would have it, I ended up having to pass through England anyway.

Baggage restrictions and security checks at all airports were extremely tedious. But the worst part of my trip was arriving in Accra, only to learn that my checked in luggage had not arrived with me!! I was very upset, but had expected that the issue with my KLM flight cancellation would cause me problems with my luggage. It has been the greatest inconvenience; arriving in another country with absolutely nothing but the clothes on my back (and the books in my hand luggage)! I am supposed to be calling in today to see if they have arrived and hopefully they have.

I am praying so hard that they have arrived because

I CANNOT GO ANOTHER DAY WITHOUT MY LUGGAGE!!!

Why I am Going To Ghana

2007-05-22T13:10:00.001-04:00

April, 2007

Ghana is the land of my ancestors and the place of my birth. I was born there, along the sandy shores of a small coastal town called Keta. When I was four my family left Ghana, embarking on a journey that would first take us to the South Pacific (where we lived for many years) before moving to Canada (my present home). Since then we have only been back to Ghana on vacations; the last one being nearly ten years ago.

Growing up as a child of the African diaspora, I have often felt a sense of longing for the country and continent that I left behind. I ask so many questions about the cultures and customs there. I am intrigued by the lives of the people and by the stories of my ancestors. I feel a need to reconnect with my roots and have for many years now been wanting to make a trip back to Ghana. School and other circumstances did not permit me to before, but now the time has come and I am on my way!

It is the first time that I will be traveling to Ghana alone and I am full of anticipation. In the past I could rely on the guidance and company of my parents, but this time I am on my own. I do not know what to expect and I am nervous, but also very excited.

Finally I am going back home!

So begins my trip of return and my journey of discovery …

Note: The views expressed in this blog are entirely those of my own. They are based on my personal experiences and may therefore not necessarily be accurate representations of fact.