My First Ghanaian Adventure

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  Cape Coast, Ghana
Friday, May 1, 2009

May first is Labour Day in Ghana, a national holiday when offices are closed. Long weekend!! I had such good timing starting this job. Not ones to waste opportunity, Alon and I head out for some touring.
 
Our day starts at 5:30. I was awake (thank you roosters) and figured we might as well get going. Things get started early here...and then you hurry up and wait. The bus we board for Accra won't leave until it's full (like most transportation in West Africa) which takes an hour. I pass the time watching the women wandering between buses, goods to sell stacked high on their heads, the quintessential African portrait. Jacob buys some water from a woman and later, I grab three small bags of plantain chips for breakfast. Finally, we roll out into the lush green countryside.
 
If you are a Ghanaian businessperson having trouble turning a profit, a simple solution to your woes can be found in turning to the Lord

The View from the Door of No Return

. Name you business after him! All the hip Ghanaians are doing it. Hair salons find this technique especially effective (Glory of God Hair Styles, The Lord's Will Cuts) though any business can use it. On the way to Accra, we saw the "God is Everywhere Wholesalers" (He gives discounts for mass conversions) and my personal favorite, "Christ Resurrection Enterprises." Can't get your Christ to resurrect? Don't worry, we'll resurrect Him for you! Specializing in second comings. The best thing is that it's actually a hardware store. I'm all for the glory of God, but this just makes no sense to me.
 
On the ground in Accra, we catch a cab to the tro-tro station for Cape Coast, our final destination. Tro-tros are simply 16-passenger vans in varying states of disrepair that one can cram excessive numbers of people into and rive about the country in. (yes grammar snobs - you know who you are- I just ended a sentence with a preposition, I know...) Today was our lucky day, our tro-tro (a Ford) was practically new and the man selling tickets outside informed us proudly that it had A/C and seat belts. What a deal! After waiting for it to fill, the A/C was wonderful when we finally left. Unfortunately, seat belts don't work when you over pack the vehicle (and now you can all worry about me in Ghanaian motor vehicle accidents. Just remember that I survived night buses in Bolivia and jay-walking in Cairo (barely))

Cape Coast Castle

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Cape Coast (here is where I bore you with history and you skim ahead and don't tell me) was originally settled by the Dutch in 1637. As was fashionable at the time, they constructed a fort here through which they processed slaves and other goods for their growing empire. No fewer than forty such forts were constructed along 500km of shoreline by assorted European powers at the time. Unfortunately, the Dutch proved poor defenders of their little fort and it was taken by the Swedes in 1652. (The Swedes?? I know, I had no idea they were ever in Africa either) The Swedes lost the fort, too, and it changed hands five times in the next thirteen years until the Brits finally got a hold of it.
 
The Brits turned Cape Coast Castle into a slaving fort par excellance, not that such things should be bragged about. The forst was the largest slave trading center in West Africa at a time when 650,000 slaves were taken from the continent each year. In our tour of the fort, we were shown the dungeons where male and female slaves were kept, the room where slave auctions were held, and the Door of No Return, from where they were taken in pirogues out to waiting ships. Particularly harrowing for me was the condemned cell, a hot, muggy room into which up to 60 people were packed and shut in with three layers of doors, without food, new air, or water until they all died. Truly brutal.

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