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Published: September 23rd 2008
Ok, having been on the receiving end of one of these travel post things, I know how excruciating it can be (“Ohmigod, outer Mongolia is, like, the coolest place, and like I’m always totally drunk and we saw this, like, amazing building and now I’m digging a well”), but it’s dawning on me that I may have to run the risk of writing one. For one thing, some of you have actually requested further news of how things are going here; and in any case, being 22 now, I feel it is important not to let the social downward spiral begin immediately. Please feel no obligation to read (there will be no quizzes) but hope it fills in anyone who is interested/at a loose end/at the masochistic end of the spectrum. Also, feel free to give up half way - it’s pretty long!
I arrived in Accra on Monday via Afriquiah airlines (a remarkable budget airline that caters for that huge number of people who find that easyjet flights just aren’t long and cramped enough) and knew immediately that I was going to stick out like a sore thumb, being one of about five people looking very white and very
My Roomate
This is Alettatouristy (in spite of my best efforts not to)! From what I could gather chatting to some of the other ‘Obruni’ (as the Ghanaians call westerners) I sensed that they were all seasoned pros of the “Malaria? Bring it on” school of thought and this made me, with my neurotic collection of drugs and needles taking up most of my luggage allowance, feel ever so slightly ridiculous. However, I stick to my original belief that nonchalantly referring to the antimalarials that one is not taking as ‘Doxy’ (instead of the full-blown Doxycycline) is probably not a better idea than actually taking them, however cool it may make you appear to fellow travellers.
Anyway, there were no problems with visas or drugs officials (although I did have an exciting moment when, lost in my own world I managed to walk round the sniffer dogs, no doubt confirming their suspicions that I was on a cocaine run), and I am getting used to always being the only white person in sight. I am also very glad I brought all my lotions and potions because I keep hearing of people going down with malaria!
Accra is so hectic and chaotic and
The Beach
(not the Leonardo di Caprio movie kind) such a place of extremes. At one side you have the president’s new $50m presidential palace (how he expects his party to get back in at the December election after that little spending spree I have no idea); and on the other side you have people living in real poverty. Very limited bits of the city are just as you would expect in a capital, with big banks and the HQs of multinational companies, but most of the city is very different: a maze of rutted dirt roads and open drains. This is the bit of Accra that I couldn’t picture before I went and I did come as quite a shock - not because it’s surprising necessarily, but because the reality of it doesn’t hit you until you’ve seen (and smelt!) it. I’m sure the more widely traveled among you will not find any of this surprising (DJ and Jo, the African pros, you’re allowed a little moment to smile at my ignorance!) but it was a real eye-opener. Especially as Ghana is touted as one of the most developed and prosperous countries on the continent. Anyway, I am fast getting used to things and enjoying being somewhere so
The Hotel Sitting Room
Anyone for a game of darts? different. With the orange soil, tropical foliage and so many people in traditional dress (not to mention the enormous amount of stuff people seem to be able to balance on their heads), you never for a minute forget where you are! Anyway, however basic things are, you really notice how positive and forward-looking everybody is here. Everybody seems to have a great sense of humour and Ghanaians are so much readier than Brits to say hello and ask how you are. With the presidential elections coming in December there is a general feeling of change in the air and high hopes for Ghana’s future. There is tension too, unrest encouraged by fairly aggressive propaganda, but the majority of people are praying for a safe and peaceful election and I’m hoping that they’re right!
Anyway, inevitable culture shock aside, I’m really lucky to be living where I am, and I had been expecting a lot worse accommodation-wise. My hostess Mrs Djan is so lovely. She is the kind of person who will ask how your day was and is really easy to chat to. Her house is basic but relatively extremely nice, with running water, mosquito nets on the windows,
a fan in our room and comfortable beds. It means that after work, having been in a city full of health hazards, you can relax somewhere clean and safe from getting bitten. Given that many of the volunteers have to use a bucket shower, a proper shower in the morning is a luxury, even if it is cold, and thankfully there is proper plumbing! Mrs Djan has been cooking local dishes (a bit of a shock to the tastebuds after mild English food) and as I’ve been sticking mainly to her food, I have not been at all ill (in spite of being prepared for the worst!) Again, I will feel silly when I return to the UK with all 9000 tablets and re-hydration sachets untouched, but I’ll be very glad of them if my luck runs out before then! (Given that the meat arrives at the markets heaped in fly-ridden open topped trucks I think it’s a miracle that anyone manages to eat at all!). I’m sharing my house with three other volunteers, all female. Aletta, my roommate, who is Dutch but speaks very good English, and two others. One of them, Frankie, also works for a newspaper, so
A Fellow Guest
Apparently it's the brightly coloured animals that kill you she’s a good source of tips. Whenever I’ve felt slightly overwhelmed by how different things are they are always on hand to reassure me that you do get the hang of things, and over the last few days I’ve found they’re right.
I have now done three days at my placement which is one of the best I could have hoped for. I’m an intern with The Graphic newspaper, which is Ghana’s main daily, and I am really loving it. I get up at 6 and get a tro-tro to work, which is an ancient rattling minibus, usually driven by someone who appears to have a death-wish. When you reach your stop you have to shout ‘mate’ or ‘bus stop’ to get the driver’s attention and everyone has to pile out to let you off. There’s no point in putting on a clean shirt before the journey because it’s so hot and sticky (and it’s not even the hot season yet!) so I usually take things to change into when I get there. The office, however, is a very pleasant place to work. It is air-conditioned, open plan and contains lots of computers (although sadly not enough). The people
Cape Coast Town Centre
Once we'd got out of Accra we began to spot the odd fellow-tourist lurking... there are so friendly and it seems like every five minutes that someone comes up to introduce themselves and welcome me to Ghana. I have already been out on a couple of assignments and am learning the basics of writing a news item. The deputy editor has encouraged me to follow up any ideas I might have for features and so after the three o’clock deadline for whatever the day’s story is, I have been going to the library to research some possible topics. Today I’ve been preparing a feature on tourism, which seemed like an appropriate subject to tackle, having just arrived!
Last weekend (definitely one to skip if you’re flagging!)…:
Last weekend Aletta and I caught the bus to Cape Coast, which is about 3 hours away, and stayed Saturday night in a beach-side hotel comprised of various little 1 or 2 room huts grouped around a central open-air dining area. The coastline here is so beautiful - all pale sand and palm trees without a trace of human interference in sight - except maybe someone trying to sell you a coconut. On Saturday afternoon we went into the town and visited Cape Coast Castle, which has
the dubious distinction of being the place where the Gold Coast’s slaves were imprisoned before being shipped abroad during the slave trade years It was shocking to see how cramped these dungeons were, and to imagine a room not much bigger than my room at home filled with 200 hundred people. The group we joined for a tour included a high number of black people, and the mood was emphatically one of anger - even as the guide encouraged us to move on from the past, people were openly shaking their heads. “It’s difficult,” said one woman, “very difficult”. I just felt pretty rubbish being British at that moment.
We finished the trip this morning by going to visit the Kakum National Park - one of the only areas of unspoilt rainforest (or rather, semi-rainforest) left in Ghana. They have built a long ‘canopy walk’ so that people can see the habitat - a series of rope-and-plank walkways zigzagging from tree to tree, with rest platforms built around the trunks as stop-off points. The whole construction is about 45 metres above the ground in places, so it wasn’t for the fainthearted, and I was slightly perturbed by Frankie’s news
that they had recently had to replace one of the walkways which had snapped unexpectedly! However, we got across them all without incident and got back to base in one piece. Actually, I was attacked by wild animals (a tip: don’t hang around a red-ant hill trying to take a photo, and if they do starting biting your feet, don’t kick your shoe off - it limits your escape options!)
Well, I have gone on long enough now and although I won’t make the time-honoured joke about congratulating all those who have made it this far (a joke intended to soften the tempers of those who feel slightly robbed having wasted so much time reading) I am vaguely impressed if you have. ((How’s that for a bit of occultatio/occupatio all you English geeks?)). I will, however, make the time-honoured apology for writing to you all so generally. I have great plans to be good at keeping in touch with people individually, but perhaps that’s one of those things that all naïve first-time travellers say…
Anyway, I can guarantee that I miss you all and I will try not to write again too soon. I hope you have all
had really good summers and are looking forward to the next bit - be it Oxford, New York, Cambodia, Thatcham, Diplomas, Masters Degrees, TEFL courses, post-year-abroad rehabilitation, Christmas at Hesworth, new jobs, no jobs or just life in general!
Love xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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