The Accra Tour
DAY ONE
Tuesday, May 9th, 2006
We pulled into the House of Lords hotel last night quite late, but immediately ventured out to experience the night market we had passed on the way in. Luke Brown, a long-term EWB volunteer from Western showed us around and at one of the first booths we encountered, we met a woman selling kenke, a fermented maize dough, with some onions, fish sauce, and some other spicy items. It was an interesting mix with the fermented corn and spicy sauces, and did not sit entirely well with me. Half of the group split up and found a restaurant further away and enjoyed some benke with ground-nut stew.
We later ventured back to the hotel and fell asleep quickly from the two days of travel we had just endured. The next morning, the group of 23 was split up. 12 people, working for the Ghanaian Ministry of Food and Agriculture, left for a bus to Tamale to meet their host families, directors, etc.
This is where our stories split. The MoFA people had quite an adventure getting to Tamale. To read their story, please read one of the following blogs (the links can be found to the right):
Apoorva, Jeff, Jamaal, Dave, Elisa, Chloe, Dan, Jeff, Deborah, Jon, Mike and Ghislaine will be working with the Ministry of Food and Agriculture. After 10 days of being together, they have separated and left for Tamale, a destination we will head to tomorrow.
Tuesday morning, those who remained at the House of Lords, myself, Marka, Troy, Mari, Jess, Bryn, Ben, Ian, Sabrina & Samina and Sarah, were left in the hotel to sleep in a little until around 9am. Those working with KITE, Troy, Mari and Jess, ran some errands with Monica, an LTOV, while the remaining eight of us set off to the market in Accra for the day.
We traversed the market for an hour or two and split up into smaller groups. The market was almost entirely indoors in a multi-floored building that resembled a parking garage. The exterior was painted bright yellow, and the perimeter was filled with women selling everything from salted fish to tomatoes and mangoes. The smells from the market were immense, and followed you to the upper floors, which were primarily dealing with textiles. We met a few women who we talked to for a while, introducing ourselves with the Ghanaian names we were given during pre-departure training. My Ghanaian name is Akwonko, meaning Wednesday-born.
Midway through our discussion, the bustling sounds of hundreds of sewing machines ground to a halt and we experienced our first Accra power-failure. The women in the market said it was a rare occurrence, happening only a few times a month. However in the 24 hours we remained in Accra, it would occur three more times.
In the darkness of the indoor market women stuffed into tiny cubicles quickly salvaged what they could of their work after the power went out. They sat patiently by their machines, waiting for the power to return so they could get back to work to prepare their customers clothing. The sound of diesel generators could be heard in the distance, and for the most part, all that could be heard now was traffic. The people in the market were rather quiet, no longer having to scream over the sound of the sewing machines.
We headed downstairs to find a meal, and met up with the other JFs just as the power came on.
We travelled to the tro-tro station across the street, and found a ride to Jamestown, at the south end of Accra and on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean.
Upon reaching Jamestown, we met a man, ironically enough named James. He showed us the way to the coast and showed us the Jamestown Fort which was built by the British in the late 19th century, and used during the Slave Trade. It is now a prison, and its high red mud-brick walls were adorned with crowns of sharded glass and iron spikes protruding from their topmost surface.
We headed down to the beach on the very roads built to transfer slaves to their awaiting ships, and encountered a rather quiet and subdued fishing market. A few boats were anchored in the harbour, empty, with their nets drawn and folded neatly over the bow. The rest were on shore, either in maintenance or pointed at the sea in anticipation of the next fishing trip. James later informed us that since it was Tuesday, there would be little to no fishing taking place. This is because it was the 2nd day of the week, or the day God created Water. As a symbolic gesture, fishermen pass on their lucrative yields for another day, and rest on the shores or visit family.
After leaving the beach, we ventured to a drinking spot and enjoyed some Fantas with James. We discovered that he is a teacher of history and religions in a high school in Accra. He had much to say of Ghana's past, political status, and the pride that every Ghanaian has in his country. His main focal points and pride in Ghana came in two aspects:
Ghana is Free.
Ghana is Peaceful.
There was no greater atmosphere in which James wished to raise his family, whom he spoke of proudly, and would later introduce us to.
He showed us the way back to the tro-tro from where we came and we headed back to the hotel, late in the day and exhausted from our journey through Accra. We set our mental alarm for 5:45 the next day, which would prove much more adventurous, with a 12 hour busride to Tamale, in the Northern Region. However I had much trouble sleeping as I could not help but reflect on the lessons we had learned, and the journey we were about to embark on.
This was Day One.
Tuesday, May 9th, 2006
We pulled into the House of Lords hotel last night quite late, but immediately ventured out to experience the night market we had passed on the way in. Luke Brown, a long-term EWB volunteer from Western showed us around and at one of the first booths we encountered, we met a woman selling kenke, a fermented maize dough, with some onions, fish sauce, and some other spicy items. It was an interesting mix with the fermented corn and spicy sauces, and did not sit entirely well with me. Half of the group split up and found a restaurant further away and enjoyed some benke with ground-nut stew.
We later ventured back to the hotel and fell asleep quickly from the two days of travel we had just endured. The next morning, the group of 23 was split up. 12 people, working for the Ghanaian Ministry of Food and Agriculture, left for a bus to Tamale to meet their host families, directors, etc.
This is where our stories split. The MoFA people had quite an adventure getting to Tamale. To read their story, please read one of the following blogs (the links can be found to the right):
Apoorva, Jeff, Jamaal, Dave, Elisa, Chloe, Dan, Jeff, Deborah, Jon, Mike and Ghislaine will be working with the Ministry of Food and Agriculture. After 10 days of being together, they have separated and left for Tamale, a destination we will head to tomorrow.
Tuesday morning, those who remained at the House of Lords, myself, Marka, Troy, Mari, Jess, Bryn, Ben, Ian, Sabrina & Samina and Sarah, were left in the hotel to sleep in a little until around 9am. Those working with KITE, Troy, Mari and Jess, ran some errands with Monica, an LTOV, while the remaining eight of us set off to the market in Accra for the day.
We traversed the market for an hour or two and split up into smaller groups. The market was almost entirely indoors in a multi-floored building that resembled a parking garage. The exterior was painted bright yellow, and the perimeter was filled with women selling everything from salted fish to tomatoes and mangoes. The smells from the market were immense, and followed you to the upper floors, which were primarily dealing with textiles. We met a few women who we talked to for a while, introducing ourselves with the Ghanaian names we were given during pre-departure training. My Ghanaian name is Akwonko, meaning Wednesday-born.
Midway through our discussion, the bustling sounds of hundreds of sewing machines ground to a halt and we experienced our first Accra power-failure. The women in the market said it was a rare occurrence, happening only a few times a month. However in the 24 hours we remained in Accra, it would occur three more times.
In the darkness of the indoor market women stuffed into tiny cubicles quickly salvaged what they could of their work after the power went out. They sat patiently by their machines, waiting for the power to return so they could get back to work to prepare their customers clothing. The sound of diesel generators could be heard in the distance, and for the most part, all that could be heard now was traffic. The people in the market were rather quiet, no longer having to scream over the sound of the sewing machines.
We headed downstairs to find a meal, and met up with the other JFs just as the power came on.
We travelled to the tro-tro station across the street, and found a ride to Jamestown, at the south end of Accra and on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean.
Upon reaching Jamestown, we met a man, ironically enough named James. He showed us the way to the coast and showed us the Jamestown Fort which was built by the British in the late 19th century, and used during the Slave Trade. It is now a prison, and its high red mud-brick walls were adorned with crowns of sharded glass and iron spikes protruding from their topmost surface.
We headed down to the beach on the very roads built to transfer slaves to their awaiting ships, and encountered a rather quiet and subdued fishing market. A few boats were anchored in the harbour, empty, with their nets drawn and folded neatly over the bow. The rest were on shore, either in maintenance or pointed at the sea in anticipation of the next fishing trip. James later informed us that since it was Tuesday, there would be little to no fishing taking place. This is because it was the 2nd day of the week, or the day God created Water. As a symbolic gesture, fishermen pass on their lucrative yields for another day, and rest on the shores or visit family.
After leaving the beach, we ventured to a drinking spot and enjoyed some Fantas with James. We discovered that he is a teacher of history and religions in a high school in Accra. He had much to say of Ghana's past, political status, and the pride that every Ghanaian has in his country. His main focal points and pride in Ghana came in two aspects:
Ghana is Free.
Ghana is Peaceful.
There was no greater atmosphere in which James wished to raise his family, whom he spoke of proudly, and would later introduce us to.
He showed us the way back to the tro-tro from where we came and we headed back to the hotel, late in the day and exhausted from our journey through Accra. We set our mental alarm for 5:45 the next day, which would prove much more adventurous, with a 12 hour busride to Tamale, in the Northern Region. However I had much trouble sleeping as I could not help but reflect on the lessons we had learned, and the journey we were about to embark on.
This was Day One.
posted by Kyle at 23:59
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