Holidays in Ghana: Beaches, Sea Turtles, Rainforests

---

After several months of landlocked dustiness, almost every Burkina PCV makes his pilgrimage to that dreamy Anglophone coast where rivers flow year-round and the trees are always green: Ghana. Land of development, diversity, and luxury…at least by Peace Corps Burkina standards.

I traveled with a group of 10 other volunteers (for my reference: Christina, Julia, Zack, An, David, Liz, Marty, Yanneth, and Cassandra) by bus. We bought tickets in advance and were told the bus would be leaving “right away” at 7 a.m. So we were at the bus station, tickets in hand, at 6:30. Then we waited four and a half hours. Turned out the bus we were waiting on was not going; an already-quite-full bus came from another station and squeezed us in. We expected nothing less.

That put us into Kumasi around 3:30 am, with only a few minor misadventures along the way. We got the first bus we could find to Accra - a nice air-conditioned minibus that seemed to be full of Ghanaian professionals. They were well-dressed and clean. I felt kind of bad they had to squeeze in with dirty us and our pile of dirty luggage.

We were dropped off in downtown Accra around 10am and we met up with Megan and Andy, friends of a PCV. They took us to get a much-desired meal (at a very-American burger joint with fountain sodas and a plastic play area for kids), and then got us on transport to Ada Foah, a coastal town 120 km east of Accra. That afternoon we finally made it to the beach after a day and a half’s travel.



Megan is a friend of Christina’s from college; she is working in Ada as a volunteer on a project through the University of Ghana. Andy is a grad student there, working on the same project. They share a large house a short walk from the water and their job is to walk up and down about 10km of beaches every couple of nights tagging sea turtles. The beaches are known to be a nesting area for several species, but the population has not been studied. So Andy and Megan are some of the first people tagging turtles and taking various measurements to get an idea of the population size.

This time of year female turtles crawl up on the beach at night to nest. A female will lay 100 eggs or so, and then go to great lengths to disguise the nest. Some spend hours making fake nests along the beach. Yet, domestic animals such as dogs and pigs still sometimes manage to find and destroy the nests. Humans are the biggest threat to these species: turtles drown when they’re caught in fishing nets, poachers kill turtles for meat, and the bright lights of the town tend to draw hatchlings ashore instead of out to sea. Something like 1 in 1000 eggs makes it to maturity.

We went on a turtle walk with Megan and Andy and we saw an Olive Ridley turtle that was about 60 or 70cm long. It was a “small” turtle - some species get to be 2 m long. She had already laid her eggs and was headed back out to sea, but we held onto her long enough to take some pictures.

We spent Christmas there in Ada Foah. Megan and Andy were more than gracious hosts. They spent half their time cooking great Ghanaian food for all of us. The rest of us split our time between playing in the waves and lying on the beach. Not a bad way to spend the holiday.




After Christmas the whole group moved west to the Cape Coast area. I stayed behind for a day to visit a friend in Accra: Dr. Ofoli, my chemical engineering professor from Michigan State. Dr. Ofoli was my professor/mentor for my entire undergraduate career who supported me endlessly. He insisted upon my capability even when I was doubtful, guiding me to recognize my own capability as only a great teacher can. It was he who first suggested that I consider graduate school and who encouraged me to apply to competitive programs I would have assumed I’d never be selected for.

Dr. Ofoli grew up outside of Accra and lived with his aunt and uncle. He had teachers who were some of the early generations of Peace Corps volunteers. It was through one of these PCV friends that he got the opportunity to go to college at the University of Maine. He managed to find scholarships and work to fund his education and eventually get his PhD. Born and raised in underdeveloped West Africa, now exploring the frontiers of science at a Big 10 university. Not bad. I didn’t learn the details of his background until I asked him to recommend me for Peace Corps.

Anyway, since we happened to be traveling in Ghana at the same time, Dr. Ofoli invited me to meet some of his family. They were very welcoming and sweet. He and his brother showed me around Accra and La, his aunt and uncle put me up for a night. His aunt prepared lovely meals. As I headed out the next morning, she pressed 20 cedis into my palm and insisted, “Take it. We’re grandma and grandpa here.”




From Accra I took a nice bus about 200 km west to Takoradi. From Takoradi to Busua I traveled by “tro-tro,” a cheap alternative to a taxi. A tro-tro is a van converted to seat about 25 passengers. You wait for them to fill before they leave, but since they run between popular destinations it doesn’t take long. You get dropped off at a tro-tro station where it’s easy to get connections to other destinations. I traveled from Takoradi to Busua in two tro-tros for about $1.10; a taxi would have cost $15 and would not be much faster.

In Busua I rejoined our group as well as another group of Burkina PCVs. Busua is a great vacation town, small and mostly situated along the beach. It has several hotels, from huge fancy resorts to cheap, simple lodging ($10/night for a hut right on the beach, shared bathrooms). Yet it was amazingly not crowded with tourists. The street along the water has lots of good restaurants within a five minute walk; you really don’t ever have to leave the beach. A couple of restaurants are owned by Americans and Canadians and offer dishes we’d only dreamed about for the last several months (burritos!). There is also really good local food in especially large quantities for PCVs.

We had a few wonderful days of swimming and relaxing. A few of us rented kayaks and paddled out to a small, rocky island offshore. At night there were bonfires on the beach and music at the surf shop.





A few of us took side trips to Elmina, Cape Coast, and Kakum National Park. Elmina and Cape Coast are colorful fishing villages that were trade centers in colonial times. We toured the castles in both towns (see my other entry for details), and got lunch at a restaurant on a hill with a nice breeze where we could look over the town.

We stayed that night in Abrafo, a village right at the entrance of Kakum National Park. Abrafo has no hotels but Megan’s friend’s friends knew someone there, and an indefinite chain of acquaintances is more than enough of a link for a traveler to be welcomed into an African home like family. Upon our arrival in the village we told the first people we saw that we were looking for Mamma and Daddy Gina, as instructed. Sure enough the names were immediately recognized and the nearest kid was appointed to show us the way.

Daddy Gina happily ushered us in and made sure we got dinner. We chatted for a while and learned that Mamma and Daddy Gina also run a school and an orphanage that they opened in the village. Their son, a guide at Kakum, took us on a tour the next day.

Kakum is a 140 sq. km rainforest reserve, of which a small portion is open to tourists. It has some short hiking trails including the spectacular canopy walk: a loop of rope bridges suspended 35 m above the forest floor. Seven bridges connect treehouse-like platforms that provide a literal birds-eye view of the canopy. Looking down, one cannot see the ground, just the thick green foliage of the treetops below.

We started hiking at 5 am in hopes of seeing animals on the move at sunrise. We started the canopy walk just as the grey morning light began to reveal the forest’s shapes. The sky blushed as the sun rose through the canopy’s layers and illuminated our treetop wonderland. Our guide pointed out swooping hornbills nearby and leaping spotnosed monkeys in the distance. But mostly the forest was reticent, calmly waking up as it had for the last million sunrises.

In another short hike we explored the forest floor. Our guide pointed out dozens of plant species, explaining different trees’ bizarre adaptations. He described how various plants are used traditionally by the local Asanti for making medicines, for finding water and food, and for taking shelter.




We rejoined our group in Busua for New Year’s and splurged on a fancy dinner. There was a rooftop party at the new extravagant hotel. The American who ran it wanted us to come but knew his bar was out of our price range, so he set aside special “PC punch” and “PC liquors” sold at especially low prices. That way he knew he’d have a crowd who’d enjoy American music.

When the sad day came that we had to leave the beach, we traveled by trotro north to Kumasi. This tro-tro had an oversized stereo installed and blared the radio loudly enough to entertain everyone within a half-mile radius. Thankful that was only a five-hour trip.

In Kumasi we stayed at a hotel that Zack had found. It was in a good location, inexpensive, and amazingly nice. Like Best Western nice. Bathroom and shower in the room - clean, too! Air conditioning, even TV in English! We were blown away.




We had most of a day in Kumasi before our crazylong bus ride to Ouaga, so Zack, Julia, Yanneth, and I set out to see some of the attractions in the capital of the Asanti Kingdom. We went to the Prempeh II Jubilee museum in the well-manicured Cultural Center. The museum was small but offered a speedy tour through Asanti history. Interesting artifacts included decorative weights and measures for trading gold, a war drum made of leopard skin that sounded like a roaring lion, and a fake golden stool. The original golden stool is guarded by the Asanti King and is the most important symbol of the culture. Its destruction would mean the end of the Asanti Kingdom, that is why they made a fake one to hand over to thieving Europeans.

Next we went to the old Palace of the Asanti King. He now lives next door, but you can make an appointment to see him. If you do, it is necessary to bring him a couple of bottles of schnapps, a custom dating back to Dutch colonial times. The palace held more artifacts, artwork, and various gifts that the king has received from other leaders.

Some of the museum’s items were interesting and some were less so - an old record player and rotary phones did not seem like cultural artifacts to me. Yet Ghanaians were amused at the giant discs that came before CD’s and the clunky phones that had to be dialed with a wheel. They skipped that era and went straight to mini cameraphones.

We got a speedy tour from a guide who did not hesitate to touch objects as he described them. He tossed figurines back and forth in his hands, pounded on the glass cases of items that were so protected. Ancient daggers came unnervingly close to tourists’ faces in the course of his wild gesticulations. In a room full of portraits of various leaders, his enthusiastic storytelling actually knocked a painting off the wall and onto Julia’s foot.

With that we’d spent the last of our Cedis just in time to board the bus for Ouaga. The ride was much less difficult the second time. If you’ve read this far, thanks. That was long. I need to learn to split these things up into shorter entries…

---