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Published: February 23rd 2009
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Hello,
I have to apologize to all my readers for not writing sooner. The increase in school work and weekend outings coupled with my laziness are to blame.
About two weeks ago, some friends and I were out on the town, enjoying our favorite drinking hole, the Purple Pub, as we do every Tuesday. This pub is only a few blocks away from the Ashesi Hostel, where most of the students live, and sits next to a busy highway. After a few hours of socialization helped along by several refreshing Ghanaian beers we were all startled by the sound of a massive crash in close proximity to the pub. The noise that all of us first assumed to be a car accident, in actuality, was caused by a man being mangled by a car going upwards of 50 mph. For the first few minutes, all of us just stood there, lost somewhere between shock and confusion, trying to comprehend what just happened. As the man lay motionless in the road, a group formed to assess his condition and try to help. Although many of us wanted to assist, most were not in a state, mentally or physically, to do
so. Eventually the man regained consciousness and was sitting up and talking with people around him. Shortly after he was taken to the hospital, we decided to call it a night and headed home. We heard later that he had survived and was doing well but it was still a very shocking experience.
Before going on, I feel I must make this clear distinction. I did not spend the night in a hospital or witness someone’s close brush with death because I am in a developing country. Food poisoning and car accidents happen all the time in America. I could have experienced exactly the same things at a Tacoma Taco Bell or on I-5. Many Americans perception of this continent are entirely (and inaccurately) based on 2-minute CNN clips and the pictures from National Geographic. Please understand, while those things are a small part of Africa, they by no means encompass it entirely. Assuming that Africa is a dangerous place where no one has money and everyone lives in huts in just as unfair as some Ghanaians that believe because I am white, I live in a mansion and have bottomless pockets.
Last weekend, some friends and I
headed back to Winneba for another weekend get away. However this time, we stayed in a much nicer (and cheaper!) hotel with better beach access. As usual, we spent the majority of the weekend relaxing on some of the world’s most beautiful oceanfront. We spent Friday night around a sandy campfire illuminated by a full golden moon from across the water. In the morning, we headed back to the beach around 9AM and were surprised to see a large group of people pulling in a massive fishing net. Seeing as everyone, including kids, was helping, some friends and I decided to join in. We heaved on the nets for about 20 minutes before the small catch was brought on shore. It was very disappointing to see that, for the backbreaking work of about 40 people, there was little to show for it. One of the fisherman offered to climb a palm tree and get us coconuts for helping. They were the best coconuts I’ve ever tasted! After dinner on Saturday night, it began to storm. The heavy downpour was complimented by sky-illuminating lighting. The power was out at our hotel so we all sat on the balcony and watched the
storm run its course. I’m not sure why, but every time it rains here, I can’t help but think of Paul Simon’s “Graceland” album. It may be a little stereotypical, but it seems quite fitting.
This weekend, the group went on the 1st CIEE planned overnight trip to Cape Coast. Cape Coast, the capital of the Central Region, is a small-ish town about 4 hours west of Accra. The nice thing about the CIEE overnights is that, instead of staying in a 10 dollar-a-night hotel and eating crap meals, we stay 75 dollar-a-night rooms and have feasts. After checking into our overpriced palace on Saturday afternoon, we headed west to the small town of Elmina to visit the oldest existing European building outside of Europe, the Elmina Slave Castle. Upon arrival, I felt I should have done a bit more mental preparation because I was bombarded with a lot of unexpected emotions. We all know about slavery from our dispassionate history books but how many of us have touched it? Breathed it? Felt it? This was not a simple sightseeing, take pictures, have lunch kind of trip. This was the site where hundreds of thousands of people were loaded
onto ships and transported across the Atlantic. I have never been to Auschwitz but I can imagine it would have a similar feel.
I sat in a room where the captors would put groups of 30 “uncooperative” slaves to die as a collective, waiting upwards of 2 weeks until all had expired before removing the bodies. I climbed the wooden staircase that led from the female dungeon area to the governor’s private residence, created to facilitate their rape. I walked through a room where people were branded on their backs and foreheads in order to identify them once they got to the New World. I stood alone, in front of a small door leading to the ocean that served as the “door of no return” for hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children. Elmina is a place where one can sit for hours, trying to find some logical explanation for the atrocities that occurred there, only to be disappointed by the realization that it does not exist. As a naïve product of white American suburbia, it was by far the most powerful place I have ever been.
That’s all for now. Enjoy the new pictures.
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Mom
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Can you bring one of the happiest kids in the world home with you?? Love all the pictures.