...And so it begins

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Saturday, 30^th June 2012



… And so it begins.

As I stepped from the plane at Kotoka airport in Accra, I remembered the guidebook’s most encouraging phrase, “Ghana – Africa’s friendliest nation’. With that in mind, I smiled at everyone as I walked, no skipped, through the tunnel , completely unprepared to meet the barricade of officials on the other side yelling in my face, “Yellow Fever! Yellow Fever!” I’d only been in the country for 5 minutes so I was sure I didn’t have it. No, they were after my Yellow Fever certificate. I hurriedly produced it but noticed one lady was counting a wad of notes which she surreptitiously tried to pass to one of the officials only to be told, very succinctly, ‘”I’ll deal with you later” – whether that meant the official had already started to imagine what shoes she’d buy with the cash or if there was a nurse at the back with an evil grin and a massive syringe, I’ll never know. I didn’t wait to find out. Instead, I went to join the slowest immigration queue in visa-checking history (note, this was just my queue, no one else’s), before finally stepping into real Ghana!



I was greeted by David Kporfor, the founder of the Friend’s Foundation and with whom I will be working with for the next 4 weeks. We took a taxi to the market as I needed a few things, and David needed to buy 26 mattresses, as one does. We left my gigantic back pack with a man at the tro-tro stop. The tro-tro stop was in the market with people milling around from all sides. The man tied it with some rope to a post and assured me no one would take it – I looked at the man, then I looked at David who just nodded. I had no choice but to believe them or else risk walking like a stooped hermit for the rest of my days. So I left the backpack and off we went.



The first thing I noticed about the market was the sheer number of people coming, going, left, right, slow, fast. David was weaving and dipping in and out between people with me tripping and bumping along trying unsuccessfully to keep up. The second thing I noticed was the music. Every corner we turned I heard a new sound – whether it was American hip-hop, Ghanaian Hip Life, gospel – there was always something, and there was always someone tapping their feet or singing to the tune.



After we had placed our order at the mattress shop and eaten lunch at one of the stalls (rice and beans for me), we tried to find a bank to convert some currency. However, being a Saturday, the banks were shut…. What to do? Go to a man who can, of course! David asked the guy at the mattress store if he knew where I can change my money. Of course, the guy knew – he took us down some market alleys. As before, David and the guide were walking way ahead with me struggling to catch up. Suddenly I notice a group of men gathering around David shouting around him and one in particular poking him. It looked like David had accidently bumped into the man but David insisted he hadn’t. There was a lot of shouting, and then after a minute or so the men dispersed, but it was a bit of a scene. Fortunately, we were already at the space where the mattress guy’s ‘man who can’ was. He greeted us and led us to his ‘office’. As dubious as it all was, the man offered me an exchange rate which was quite favourable – I looked at the mattress guy, then looked at David who just nodded. And so I became a Ghanaian ‘millionaire’ – well in peshawas at least – their equivalent of pennies, but the denomination by which they often state values. And then off we went again….



…We walked back to the mattress store where the ladies at the store had sewn 26 pillow cases. 3 of the ladies helped us carry them to the tro-tro stop by balancing the piles of mattresses on their heads – One was even carrying a baby on her back. That’s an act that needs to be on Britain’s Got Talent. About ten minutes into our journey, the lady at the front put her load down. I thought perhaps she needed to rest, but she started yelling because a young man (perhaps teenage boy) had bumped into her. Suddenly the man pounced on her. They were pulling each other to the ground and hitting each other. The crowd were shouting. They fought for a minute or so before stopping and getting back on their feet. The lady put the load back on her head and the man went the opposite way still cursing. David was left shaking his head and I was a little bemused with a knocked shin as I hadn’t managed to get out of the way in time (note to self, move faster and don’t bump anyone!). Still, no one was really hurt, and once again we carried on going.

We got to the tro-tro stop and as promised, my bag was still there. As we loaded the tro-tro the guy who’d looked after my bag started chatting with me. Within about 2 minutes I had a marriage proposal and a promise he’d come to Agbozume to visit me – Lucky me!



So, two fights and a marriage proposal later, I was finally on the three hour drive to Klikor-Agbozume. The place I will call home for the next four weeks.

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