Only in Ghana

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There are many things I feel you haven’t really experienced until you’ve experienced them in Ghana.

Top of that list would have to be mass. Ghana is still a very religious country and to be fair, they do it far better than we do. Our welcoming mass in the small church in Ahoto was our first expierence of what we would call a relatively short service. Presided over by Fr. Philip (our Fanti teacher) the mass, including our welcoming ceremony, was a mere two hours or so. A number of things extend the length of mass here; when shaking hands to show peace everybody walks around the church shaking hands with anyone they recognise and even stopping for a quick chat, secondly there is the fact that certain parts are translated into English as well as being said in Fanti, but most importantly, and most entertainingly, the music. With drums, shakers and tambourines in hand the choirs are undoubtedly the most interesting part of any mass. We (the bruins that is) break out in a sweat just clapping along, but some of the more seasoned patrons will hit the aisle with hands held high and dance up and down the church as long as the music is still playing. To call our two hour intro short is no exaggeration. The following weekend we attended a four hour service in nearby Ssnit Flats. Thankfully I opted for outdoor seating, where water was available, rather than sitting in the scantly air-conditioned church where no such luxury was at hand. The money collection was interesting in the way that all parishes were called up individually to contribute. The separate parishes sing and dance their way from the bottom of the church to the top in as much style as they can in order to try out do each other. I think we may have let the team down slightly, walking in procession with our hands by our sides. The natives, no matter what gender or age, all seem to posses a natural rhythm which I have yet to see in the nightclubs of Ireland. All the taxis are decorated with religious slogans or quotes. The drivers seem adamant that they devote a small space to the Lord... I would too if my engine was held together with elastic bands and sellotape. Most businesses try to put a religious spin on their titles as well. Sights such as “The Blood Of Christ Bike Repair” are quite common at this stage.

Another item on the list would have to be taxis. As I’ve already described driving techniques before I’ll spare a repeat but must admire some of the creativeness we have encountered. One driver found he was using his horn so often that he had actually converted his window wiper switch to a horn instead. Now with a simple flick of a switch the horn beeps repeatedly until he flicks it back. Clearly not worried about the rain then. Most of the taxis we’ve used to date, in fact all bar one, have been completely unroadworthy and should probably be turned in for scrap. But armed with the misspelt words ”Except God” on the back window and a firm fist for opening the heavily dented passenger side door the taxis usually provide some kind of a talking point. We had an interesting journey home from Brenu Beach a few weeks ago. Brenu is a bar and restaurant on the beach just past Elmina which Mark introduced us to before heading back to Ireland. Luckily his sister Rose gave us a quick lesson on taxi fares and we’ve had fun haggling in Fanti since. “O SISI ME!!!” Brenu is situated a few miles off the main road so we couldn’t believe our luck when we found a taxi - driven by the friendly Emmanuel - directly outside the gate. He already had one passenger - a student named Johnny - so in typical Ghanaian fashion we piled everyone into the car and were on our way. Myself and Johnny squeezed into the front seat where I attempted to explain that Ireland was NOT part of the United Kingdom (something i've found myself doing an awful lot over here) and Kevin, Hazel, Annie and Eoin fought for space in the back seat. Incident number one occured when we were stopped at a police checkpoint near Elmina for overloading the car. Johnny and Emmanuel hopped out and explained exactly why they couldn't leave us behind and appealed to his generous side... in other words they bribed him. If only Emmanuel had been wiser and followed the example of the next vehicle the officer tried to stop. An open top truck with about twenty men standing and singing in the back simply ignored the officer and drove on through. Simple as that. The officer had no car to chase them with, what was he going to do? I think we've all been quite surprised by the obvious lack of funding towards the police and prisons in Ghana. The stretch of road between our house and Cape Coast is home to three different prisons. The minimum security prison two minutes from our house is a perfect example of the under funding they suffer from. Two days ago myself and Annie hopped in a "tro-tro" taxi and were followed by two prisoners cuffed together and an officer. They actually use public transport!! The second incident in Emmanuel's taxi was again self inflicted as he decided to use a busy junction as a parking space while he ran to a nearby stall for some supper. No sooner had he left when a car started beeping at us to move. In seconds, six or seven men descended on the car banging and shouting angrily at us to move. One even reached through the open drivers window for the key trustingly left in the ignition. Emmanuel returned back in the nick of time to take off with Johnny still hanging out the window shouting "Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off".

Another item to the list would have to be fruit. Bananas, oranges and pineapples taste about ten times nicer than they do in Ireland. Being indigenous to Ghana makes them a hell of a lot cheaper as well.
Sporting events (at least at a schools level) are quite a spectacle as well. More time is taken up arguing about which ball to use or which whistle the ref should use than actual sport takes place but debating teachers are just as entertaining.

Hope you all had a good St. Patrick's Day and many happy returns.

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