Surf and somebody else's turf

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July Something --- I've totally lost track of time. Today, is our official day off, and I spent it on the beach. We got up early so that we could walk to another fishing village on the other side of where we are. We're somewhere near Takordi at a resort (translation: hotel with nicer-looking rooms and an expensive menu) on Bussua beach.

It is an amazingly romantic place --- the kind of tropical beach you dream of going to. There are three other resorts nearby and a fishing village, which includes a church and school. At 4 a.m. you hear the villagers singing their psalms --- it's disturbing at first because who does that just about every morning at that time, um isn't God still sleeping? But, it is also a beautiful sound in tune with Mami Water's waves caressing the shore.

One of the resorts has hammocks on the beach, which has a monkey tied to one of them. It also has dogs with puppies playing on the sand. Paul and Ted, members of the group, said they saw the monkey pick up one of the puppies and start picking off its fleas, as if the pup were its child. I missed that, but while visiting the other fishing village I saw a baby goat, trailed by a baby chicken, stick its head in an open hut to nudge a sleeping boy awake. Call me Dr. Doolittle, but I swear they were yelling for the boy to come out and play. Here all of God's children run about, play, work and pee and poop together. On the negative side of that is accidents happen when you walk barefoot without looking down --- especially in areas shielded by large rocks, not that privacy seems to be much of a concern.

The hike to the other village was a nice workout up steep hills through tropical foliage. I didn't have my camera on me, so I'll have to wait until I can get a copy of Charles' pics to share with you. Once we got to the village, we found a cove and played in the water. The villagers cooked food, swept walkways, repaired fishing boats and nets, and must have said to each other, "look at those crazy people." Even the kids looked at us like we're from outer space, BUT they still smiled and waved. Some were brave enough to come up to us and say, "Obrini (tourist --- it used to mean white people, but now it's for all foreigners), money?"

You can't blame them for asking. We were riding their waves.

Later in the day, Vineta and I hung out at our favorite hut bar/restaurant. It's a surf shop/Internet cafe. It's not much, but it's right on the beach where you watch fishermen working on their nets. The drinks and food are cheap and delicious. We ate Rastafari beans, which is something I have to cook at home. It's coconut rice, avocado, mango and beans in a garlicky sauce. Yummy! Ironically enough, even though we're surrounded by coconut trees, when I ordered the coconut filled with rum, I was told that drink was 'finished,' which means they're out of it.

We spent hours talking to a man named Nathan, who has an engineering degree but prefers to stay in his village on the beach. He is a wealth of knowledge and loves, loves, loves to read and learn --- especially anything to do with history. The coast of Ghana is dotted with fort ruins, which are called castles. As you already know, they were used for slave trading, but that was not their original purpose. There are two castle ruins on each side of Bussua beach. One we saw at the top of a hill, small mountain actually, overlooking the other fishing village and the other is on the other side of town.

Nathan told us the story of a chief who defied the Dutch. He told them they could not take slaves from the beach, but they didn't listen. They had ships and cannons, the villagers had huts and fishing knives. But, the chief led his people and killed some Dutch. He was captured and beheaded. To teach the people a lesson, the Dutch took the head and brought it back to Holland, preserving it in a jar of formaldihyde (sorry, but I'm too tired to get correct spelling right now). To the people this was a complete tragedy because they believe their royalty cannot cross to the other side if they are not buried in mother soil.

Just last year after negotiations the Dutch removed the head from a museum or some showplace and sent it back to its people. How crazy is that?

Yesterday, we had a long work day, which began with us hiking through forest to get to another castle --- this one was built by the Germans in the 1600s. My relatives will be happy to know that the people we interviewed there were totally cool with the Germans because they honored the chief's requests. He said they could purchase slaves as long as they did not take any women or children. The Dutch, however, were not so nice when they took it over. The interviews we conducted were fascinating, but I'm too tired to write more about it tonight. I promise to do so tomorrow.

After leaving the hut bar, Vineta and I decided that it was time to crash a neighboring resort's pool (our's doesn't have one). And, we almost got away with it, but our attempt to slide down the tile water fountain that connects two pools may have caught someone's attention. I think it was our second attempt when we decided to sort of do a run and jump out of the pool, belly flop onto the fountain that did us in. But, they let us swim and talk before asking us if we stayed there. "Yes," I said, and then when asked what room number, I told them my room number. When the guy went in to check, we couldn't get out of there fast enough. We thought we had it, but then security caught us powerwalking away on the beach. We tried to barter our way out of it, but 8 cedis later we were on the rooftop lounge of our hotel, thankful to be there and not in pool-tief prison.

The cool thing about the rooftop place, other than its view, is the band members walk around and introduce themselves to you. They even sit and chat awhile. The female singer is the owner's daughter. One of the men in the group is from Los Angeles, one is from Nigeria, and one is from Ghambia. All interesting people who mix traditional instruments and rhythm with modern stuff, but that seems to be typical Ghana to me. You'll see people wearing nothing but a fabric wrap, stopping to chat on their cell phones.

I'm an outsider on their land, but they seem to be so happy to share their world with me, especially their food and traditions, while at the same time constantly asking for my email and phone number (and, yes, money too, but they're still just as welcoming and nice when I say no). There is sooooo sooooo much I miss about home --- my own family for one thing and indoor plumbing and electricity that work all of the time for another --- but I already know I will miss so much about this place. I hope that I'm able to take the best of it with me and get my own people to slow down a bit to enjoy and share our time.

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Photos

Village from castle
This is the view from the top of Fredericksburg castle. We walked through a remote village and up through the jungle to get to this view.

more castle
the drive to this place was interesting as well. We drove through a rubber tree plantation, and got stuck in a mud puddle, but villagers helped us out.

Coconut harvester
we've seen a few young men do this. I saw a guy today climb a tree with the knife in his mouth.

Sandra working
taking notes for the big interview

Need I say more?
imagine living near this.

Getting ready
Charles, Kevin and Paul getting things set up for the first interview.

someone's bed
can you think of a better place to sleep?

Delores and Duko
listening to the interview