Wow. Okay. Ghana. I’m still processing it all. WHAT A PLACE! Fun fact: my name is Yao. It’s because I was born on a Thursday.
While my Morocco entry featured hesitation about aspects of the culture, levels of disappointment and discomfort, and a somewhat ambivalent tone, I have almost nothing but positive things to say about our second port of Tema, Ghana. Much like the morning of docking in Casablanca, I woke up relatively early to witness our approach to land. The Tema skyline wasn’t quite as exciting as Casablanca’s, mostly because it’s a simple port city that relies more on commerce than tourism; the real excitement is in Takoradi, Cape Coast, and Accra (not to say Tema isn’t exciting, because it is, and we’ll get to that later). There were less people milling about on the 7th Deck than Moroccco, too. I hope we aren’t getting jaded! I know I’m not, so that’s good. Once we finally arrived, we were immediately greeted by a group of men on drums and women dancing. Waka Waka, this is Africa, anybody? Yes, Morocco is in Africa, but Ghana has a more “African” vibe to it. It’s true, though. The whole country has a heart, a soul, a beat, an electrifying rhythm that’s pretty impossible to ignore. So, let’s get to it!
My first three days were spent on the Senase Homestay with Can Do Land Tours, organized by my dear friend, Lou. She’s splendidly Swedish, which is beside the point, but it’s fun and alliterative. Our group of about 30 students walked out the port to find our tour guide, a native Ghanaian named Fred. We were immediately swarmed by people selling stuff. Difference between them and Moroccan salesmen? Well, a lot. For one, they make bracelets and other things right in front of you. I got my name on a black band in red, yellow, and green. We can pretend I’m African, right? Second, they are friendly. Very friendly. Almost to a fault. I felt bad saying no to them, but I can’t buy everything. Since they are so friendly, they’re pretty easy to take advantage of as well; I paid extremely little for some things that clearly were worth more, which looking back on makes me feel like a greedy American. Thirdly, they are willing to trade. I gave one of them a bandana for a little trinket. Lastly, and probably most frighteningly, the concepts of “no” and “personal space” don’t entirely match up to what I’m used to. I’d tell them I didn’t want something because I already had it or didn’t have money, but they’d shove it in my face anyway and ask for my money. They WILL follow you ANYWHERE. In Tema, a guy gave me a painting. He said to pay him later. I thought I’d never see him again and that I got a sweet deal on a free painting, but alas, he took some bus to Accra, found our group, found me, and got the money. Total strike out, but whatever, the painting is cool. It’s of a tree. Crazy fact? This is all within the first two hours of getting off the ship.
Our bus ride to Senase was…eventful. By eventful, I mean long. Also, bumpy. Ghanaian road infrastructure doesn’t exist. Highways are paved, of course, but not particularly well, and a lot of roads are really just dirt paths with giant bumps and holes at every corner. It’s like four wheelin’ on backcountry mountain roads, but not mountains roads because they’re in the grasslands, jungles, and even RIGHT OUTSIDE THE CITY. We were in a bus, so picture the bumpiness. It was much like a roller coaster. Anyway, the bus ride was about 8ish hours longer than it was supposed to be because our bus broke down in the middle of a random village. It actually didn’t really break down—the air conditioning started to malfunction and Fred began to worry that the battery was going to overheat or something—so we really could’ve gone, but we didn’t…but that’s part of the adventure, right? While we waited in this village, a few little kids came out to see what the commotion was. We began to play with them, singing little songs and dancing. Fairly soon afterwards, though, they multiplied. CHILDREN EVERYWHERE. They appeared out of every little corner and crevice and wanted to hang on to every American limb possible. These kids were so cute. Every little thing brought adorable little smiles to their faces. Singing, dancing, playing soccer, blowing bubbles, giving stickers, anything brought unbridled joy to these little kiddies. Male, female, very young, young, almost our age, shy, loud, funny, playful, boisterous, every type of child was there. It certainly made the hours pass by quicker. In the middle of playing, though, I felt a smatter of raindrops. Thinking nothing of it, we all kept entertaining the kids. Suddenly, the clouds opened up and let everything pour out. It was the most out-of-nowhere rainstorm ever. It’s nearing the end of their rainy season, so it’s humid, muggy, and rainy. Truth be told, it rained at least a little bit each day we were in port, but never for too long. It’s about to get really dry, apparently.
We finally arrived in Senase t 7 A.M. Bleary eyed and sore from sleeping on the bus, a little skeptical of our surroundings, but overall ready to see something really different, we wandered into this new land. The clouds were low to the ground and the air smelled thick, so it felt somewhat dreamlike. Senase is actually much larger than I imagined it was going to be; I figured it would be a few streets and houses, but it’s actually a large town of about 13,000. At least I think that’s the size—somebody in the town told me that, but they had a thick accent, so they may have said something else. Frankly, much of our time in the village was spent sitting around, eating (AMAZING) food, visiting the schoolhouses, giving out the toys and other supplies we collected on the ship, playing with more cute children, and just meeting people. The only really planned thing we did was a drumming and dancing lesson in order to learn a routine that we were to perform for the village elders. Speaking of food, I have to recommend it. If you can handle spicy, try some foufou, red red, fried plantains, and joloff rice. If you can’t handle spicy, don’t eat Ghanaian food. Everything we ate in the village, except an oatmeal-like porridge we had on our final morning, was spicy. If anything else, I will miss the food of this country. Also, I tried Star, a Ghanaian beer, and it was really tasty. We went out to a bar on our last night in the village in the built up area and had a ridiculously fun time. Ghanaians know how to party! Dancing and drinking with them was so fun.
Our final day was especially exciting. After practicing our moves and our beats, we met the village elders. They introduced themselves in English, but then the chief said he was going to speak in the native dialect to us in order to keep with tradition. He told us how welcome we were, how glad they were to have us, and how much they want us to come back and help them more. After our meeting, we suited up in our traditional red, green, and yellow outfits and shook our hips and beat our drums for the elders and other onlookers. I was part of the drum line as bass, which may sound like an easy job, but those drums hurt your hands after a while. I never thought I’d say this, but my palms are sore. While it would’ve been fun to dance, I now have an authentic souvenir (in addition to the amazing memories, of course) to remember the village: a giant djembe drum with my initials engraved into the side. When we finished our performance, we presented a well filter as a gift to the village to help with their water problem. Afterwards, we said our goodbyes. It was difficult leaving the village; the children were especially sad and wanted to take as many pictures as we possibly could. More than that, though, I had never done something quite like this homestay while traveling. Seeing this new kind of life really was eye opening and heart breaking. The lives they lead are rough, but at the end of the day, they are all such happy people. It’s given me a different sense of appreciation, a different sense of poverty, and a lot more. Absolutely worth it, despite minor difficulties getting there (and back—our bus broke down AGAIN, but it was only for like 45 minutes). I want to return to Senase and help out more.
You’d think on my final day I would indulge myself a little bit, but I didn’t. I went to the City of Hope Refuge, an orphanage outside of Tema that focuses on bettering the lives of trafficked children in the Lake Volta region. Lake Volta is the largest man-made lake in the world, and many of the fisheries utilize masters to enslave children whose parents have abandoned them because of their bleak living situation. Kids as young as four years old are working out there, trying to make a living and fend for themselves. Girls as young as twelve are having babies and/or are being sold into sex slavery. HIV is rampant with 40% of the people in the region suffering from the disease. However, like in Senase, and everywhere else in the country, people are happy. We watched a documentary about the area and the orphanage by a group of NYU film students and then toured the facility. The school they built was especially interesting. It literally just opened, so they’re still working out a lot of little kinks, but it’s totally functional in the education sense. They have students of all ages; they’re hoping to get all the kids in the region into school from kindergarten to senior high school in order to prepare them for university level education. I spent most of my time in an elementary school classroom. I walked in just before story time, so I read them a picture book aloud. It seemed fitting with my majors. I then sang songs with them, both American and Ghanaian. My favorite student was Stellasin, a beautiful little girl with an infectious smile. When they broke for lunch, I walked around some more, peeking into the other classes. For just opening up and not having that much stuff, they are doing a pretty amazing job. We all played outside for a little, shooting some hoops on their basketball court and kicking around a soccer ball. I also gave out some stickers and gave piggyback rides. Saying goodbye was even more difficult this time around since I knew it was my last time with Ghanaian children for a while. Stellasin gave me the biggest hug. When we left, we delivered some food to a shelter that some other people made while we were at the orphanage. It took a while, but we got to hang out with more kids.
So, Ghana. What a place. With all this positive, I have to put it into context for a moment and talk about something difficult. You may have noticed an emphasis on the children. There were adults. Lots of them. Children, though, are the heart of any country, and these kids are amazing. They have so little, but are so happy and friendly and welcoming. Why are there so many kids, though? Well, the unfortunate reality is that the life expectancy is 62 years old. It’s so low for a number of reasons. Poor sanitation practices (we had to drink purified water out of plastic bags, which strangely reminded me of bagged milk we drank in kindergarten), poorly regulated education, and bad health conditions all lead to this reality. In Senase, we were told that the nearest doctor was over an hour and a half away down bumpy dirt roads. At City of Hope, we were told that despite extremely well regulated safe sex education, many people still refuse to wear condoms. HIV is highly stigmatized, so people don’t talk about it and will not get tested. Ignorance really is bliss to them. Through all these problems, we were told that Ghana is an excellent example of a peaceful African government. It’s true, though: they found their independence in 1957 and have remained peaceful since. Even still, it’s hard to rationalize all these problems in my head when I’m now back on the ship with running water. Even harder is thinking of a way to fix it. Perhaps I can’t, but hopefully someday, their poverty will vanish, HIV rates will decrease, and sanitation problems will be a thing of the past.
Waka waka! Ghana, you were amazing!! I want to teach English in a school there. Regardless, I will be back!!! In the meantime, though, onward to South Africa!
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