From Fetu Festival to Abidjan
Trip Start
Mar 27, 2008
1
20
21
Trip End
Oct 01, 2008
Abidjan,
Cote D'Ivoire
Friday, September 19, 2008
As that weekend was the Fetu Afahye festival in Cape Coast, and Emily was doing a multimedia story on it for the NY Times with the help of Olivier as her photographer, we had to book it to Cape Coast. The good thing was we had company as Gislain and another friend Melinda wanted to come to Cape Coast for the festival. After a busy morning running around Accra getting money and a SIM card for Emily we packed into the car and headed west.
Emily at work
On Saturday the festival was in full swing and we all headed down to the main street in Cape Coast to watch the parade of chiefs. The annual Fetu Afahye festival ends with the parade where the chiefs are carried down the main road in Cape Coast and then they ceramonally sit on wooden stools to re-affirm their power as local leaders. It was a wonderfully colourful and exciting affair, and Emily, Marc and Olivier were busy working snapping pics and doing interviews. Gislain, Melinda and I were able to just enjoy the show and take it all in. That night we headed to our local spot Tina`s and had some Ghanaian food and lots of club beer. As the festival had brought out all the national sponsors there was a huge MTN party at our local petrol station, the Goil. It was bizarre and very fun, dancing next to petrol pumps.That Monday it was back to work for me and Emily busied herself checking out the local sites in Cape Coast and Elmina. The graduation ceremony for the nurses was scheduled for that Wednesday and my boss and I were running around like headless chickens trying to finalise everything for the event. The week before we`d been in Accra and had a very successful meeting with the Deputy Commissioner of CHRAJ about public education programmes in the Central Region, and the ceremony in particular. He agreed to come through to Cape Coast for the event the next week, which was a huge relief to us as that would guarantee media coverage and funding for upcoming programmes in the future.
By Wednesday morning I was a bit of a nervous wreck.
Beginning of the parade at Fetu festival
We had had a hell of a time finalising the programme and had been printing them late into the night on Tuesday, so when I started to put on my outfit (a traditional Ghanaian top and long skirt) only to find that it was rather tight I was not pleased. I should have known that with one bad thing comes another and another. As I was walking down my road to the main road I slipped in mud, covering my shoes, and then as I got into the taxi the zipper on my top burst open like a pinata after being whacked by hyperactive children. But I remained calm as my entire backside was exposed and called Sossah to ask him to bring me a back-up top from my room, and thanked the almighty that I had my backpack to cover my newly naked topside.After a few minutes in the ladies room at the conference hall I had managed to fix my zipper and had resolved not to sit down or bend more than 40 degrees for the rest of the day. At about 10am the first of the nurses started to file into the hall and we sat them according to graduation order in their seats. An hour later, and of course and hour behind schedule, the programme began. The Deputy Commissioner had made it with all the signed certificates and all the nurses were looking great in their uniforms. The press was there, and our projector was sort of working. As the first of the dignitaries started their speeches I looked around at the hall and at what we had accomplished and was very content. However, that moment of quiet reflection was quickly shattered when I realised that the 253 certificates were not in order (aka the nurses would be filing on stage and collecting someone else`s certificate, possibly not even from their school) and the computer that we were going to play the slide show from had crashed.
Emily capturing the sounds of the festival
Breath, breath I told myself. After a quick consultation with my boss we decided to collect the certificates back from the nurses at the end of the programme and deliver them to their schools at a later date once they had been resorted. As for the computer a couple re-boots later we were (sort of) up and running and I was able to open our picture slide show. Two hours later all the nurses had graduated and the speeches were finished. We took some publicity pics with the nurses and the Dept Commissioner and everyone was happily chowing on snacks and drinking minerals. I had received a wonderful commendation from my boss and from the Principal of Ankaful Nurses College and left the day feeling exhausted but very rewarded. As it was my last day at CHRAJ I headed back to the office and finished up some final stuff on the nurses report and said my goodbyes to the office. The new intern, Lakai, had been with me that day and would take over from me the next week. I hoped that the ceremony inspired her to continue creating education programmes and to have the energy to keep my boss on track in the upcoming months.
The next day Emily and I packed up our bags and waited for Gislain and Marc to arrive from Accra. We were all headed to Abidjan in Cote D`Ivoire for the weekend and there was a mix of excitement and apprehension between the two of us. Gislain had been a diplomat in Abidjan during the crisis in 2002 and was very familiar with the workings of the country, however it was still on the US State Dept travel warning list and I couldn`t help but think maybe it was a silly idea to go here for the weekend.
The parade in Cape Coast
But he and other diplomats in the country reassured me that it was calm right now and a good time to visit. We hit the boarder at lunchtime that day and Gislain, playing the role of Dad for the 3 of us, sorted out our exit from Ghana and our entry into Cote D`Ivoire seamlessly. Emily was pleased with the new stamps in her passport and I was just pleased to have my passport back, and we continued the drive towards Abidjan. By 3pm we were checked into our self-catered flat and were at the local grocery store picking up provisions for the weekend. Abidjan was fascinating to me. It wasn`t particularly good looking but you could tell that this city had once been very cosmopolitan. There were huge office buildings and a downtown and grocery stores and people selling baguettes on the street. It almost looked like Geneva, if we were in the 1970s and the city had been through a decade of coups. The city was busy and expensive and very civilised. That night we met up with Gislain`s friend Juliette who took us to a wonderful Lebanese restaurant right by the lagoon where I ate the best middle eastern food I have ever eaten. The food was so fresh and the service was impeccable and Marc and I kept stealing glances at each other, so to say with out eyes `is this for real!`.
The next day we met up with a bunch of staff from the Canadian Embassy for lunch at a local Maquis, Chez Alice, where the specialty dish was fried fish with ground cassava and hot sauce. I usually stay clear of fish due to a childhood `trauma`at the Boston aquarium, but this was incredibly good and I gobbled it right up.
One of the chiefs
We washed it down with the local lager Flag and I had a great conversation with the wife of one of the local diplomats about her life in Abidjan and their plans for the future. I couldn`t help but be a bit envious.Abidjan was full of surprises and I was bitten by the French West Africa bug. There was so much joie de vivre and energy that just doesn`t seem to exist in Ghana, and which I had missed without really knowing it. I resolved that if I was going to continue living in Africa I wanted to be in French speaking West Africa.
For the most part we were left alone by the security forces because we were in a Ghanaian diplomatic vehicle, but the last night our luck ran out. As we were driving from dinner to a local spot for a drink a security officer waved at us to pull over. Gislain did what he had done the whole weekend and tooted his horn, waved and kept driving, but this time the security guards decided we were not getting away so easily. A couple minutes later I looked out the right window and to my shock there were two officers in a taxi brandishing guns and waving us to pull over. So pull over we did, this time. Turns out these guys had commandeered the taxi and had been following us for several minutes, getting more and more worked up. Gislain, ever his calm self, put on his best Cote D`Ivoirian accent and began the back and forth with the security officers. Turns out he had left his driver`s license at home and in addition Gislain was wearing army fatigues shorts, and according to the officers this was a big problem. But of course almost every problem can be solved with money in Cote D`Ivoire, it is just a question of how much. Gislain was having fun with them, much to my and Emily`s chagrin, but after about a half hour of negotiations, and threats to call the Canadian Embassy, we paid the equivalent of a $5 bribe and were on our way. Once we were happily seated in a bar a couple blocks away Gislain said to us `how fun was that! I`ve never paid a bribe before in my life!`. At that point, safely away from the men with guns, it was very funny.
Now we are safely back in mother Ghana and after a couple relaxing days on the beach we are in Accra and on the hunt for live music. Emily leaves on Sunday (boo) and then I am off to the UK in less than two weeks. Shocking really.
