As much as December is a challenging month for me, I opted to hang onto the brighter side of life for a bit, and to take in some of what my cherished Ghana has to offer.On December 7, my roommates Beth, Cait and I along with 3 of our Ghanaian buddies, Black, Jamal & Obed decided to do a road trip to Cape Coast, known for its slave castles and Kakum National Park.
Our first stop was Kakum National Park that is situated in a unique rainforest that is home to many, nearly extinct animal and plant species. Its most unique feature is its Canopy Walkway consisting of 7 hanging bridges high up in the tree tops! Every effort has been made to keep this park in its undisturbed natural state, and I can say it is based on much luck to see any of its inhabitants (or to go when there aren't loud French men bouncing off the bridges, eh girls?!).
Greenheart Conservation Company Ltd. out of Vancouver, British Columbia is a Canadian company that designs, builds and operates conservation-based canopy walkways and actually built this one! The revenue from the Kakum walkway pays for local conservation efforts and brings in over $1M/yr and up to 800 visitors/day and 80,000/yr stroll through. Though I didn't find myself too scared to walk over the rope-secured bridges, I really can't say the same for Cait, Jamal or Black-- who didn't even attempt to do the walk out of fear!
After our sweat-drenched, athletic excursion, we decided to stop and have lunch at a cozy place called, Hans Cottage where we ate amongst the crocodiles swimming below... no fear on this trip!
After lunch, we moved onward to Cape Coast Castle and I questioned internally how it would compare to the one I saw in Shama-- and even foolishly hoped the history wouldn't be as grave. Here's some history to bring you up to speed on it came to be...
Cape Coast was the capital of Gold Coast (Ghana's name before independence in 1957) until 1877. At that time, Accra became (& remains) the new capital (where I live now). Built specifically for the slave trade by the British, Cape Coast Castle is 341 years old.
Cape Coast Castle is a UNESCO World Heritage site, as are the 2 forts in neighbouring Elmina, and a lot of effort has been invested in justifying this accolade. Cape Coast, however, remained an English fort throughout the war, became the centre of English administration of the Gold Coast until the capital moved to Accra in 1877, and only changed hands again at Ghana's independence in 1957.
The smell of gold brought the Europeans into contact with West Africa, and between the 1480's-1590's the Portuguese made huge amounts of money from trading gold. However this wasn't enough for them. So in order to increase their profits, they moved into the already-thriving slave trade, and between 1485-1540 some 12,000 slaves were imported by the Portuguese and sold to gold merchants from places as far away as Mali. Thus the Europeans got their first taste of the profits that could be made from the sale of humans-- a taste that wouldn't turn sour until the 19th century.
With increased European presence in West Africa, the slave trade started to escalate. It wasn't long before a triangular trade system was in place, with ships leaving Europe for West Africa stocked up with textiles, metal, guns, rum, tobacco, ceramics and beads. In West Africa these goods would be traded for gold, ivory, pepper and even slaves before heading for the New World, where the slaves would be sold to work on the plantations, in exchange for sugar, cotton and tobacco. Each ship might have taken between 18 months and 3 years to complete the journey, but the profits to be made at each stage were well worth the investment in ship and crew, and the European powers started building their empires on actual slave labour. African slaves were captured in a number of different ways, but the most common was for the Europeans to encourage inter-tribal wars. These would produce desperate prisoners of war on each side, who could then be sold to the Europeans in exchange for goods like guns; these arms could then be used to capture even more neighbouring tribesmen, and so on and so forth.
Another way of earning a profit was for tribes to sell their criminals to the Europeans, an eerie precursor of the English policy of shipping convicts out to America and Australia, but however the slaves got captured they would end up somewhere like Cape Coast, ready to be shipped to the Americas. Around 1,000 male slaves and 500 female slaves would be stored in the castle at any one time, and most of them would be locked up in the dungeon for 6-12 weeks, waiting for the slave ships to dock. They would be allowed out for fresh air 2-3 times a week, but apart from that they were imprisoned in dark, dank dungeons that would have been utterly disgusting.
Today the dungeons are empty- echoing chambers that barely hint at what they would have been like with hundreds of slaves crammed in there, but with only a handful of barred windows to let in the humid, sea breeze and a rough channel down the middle of the cells to carry away urine and feces- it just would have been repugnant.
Estimates of the number of slaves transported from Africa vary from 12-25 million – one estimate says that in 1700, at the height of the slave trade, more than 650,000 slaves were exported in that year alone – but whatever the numbers, they're huge... colossal in fact, and most of these slaves came from West Africa and the Congo-Angola region apparently. The trade started in the 1500's and over the next 300 years they were shipped out in what has become known as the African Diaspora, with 1/3 ending up in Brazil, 1/3 in the Caribbean islands and the rest throughout the Americas. Interestingly, the smallest proportion (1.5 to 2 million slaves) went to the USA and Canada in the years between 1620-1860, and the USA's significant African American population generally emigrated to the US once they were emancipated, rather than being sent directly there as slaves. The slave trade did not completely end until the 1870's, though Britain abolished its slave trade in 1807, signalling an end to Cape Coast's role in transporting slaves.
Got all that so far?!
An interesting experience that happened while touring the castle with the boys, was some Nigerians were actually commenting to the boys how odd it was that they were touring the castle with whites. As well, a Nigerian made a loud comment in our presence (we were the only whites/obroni's on this particular tour) that, "Africans are strong people with good hearts to overcome such atrocities brought onto them by whites".
And I can't agree more with him.
The following day, we decided to tour Elmina Castle (largest and oldest existing castle connected to the trans-Atlantic Slavery) before our journey back to Accra. Hundreds of thousands of captives passed through the dungeons of Elmina Castle, and were shipped off, like commodities into the Americas and Caribbean against their wishes. This illicit human trade carried on for close to 300 years. They were shackled and made to march gruelling journeys, which could last hundreds of miles at times. It could be days or weeks before the slaves reached Elmina Castle and other castles and forts along the coast. Half of all captives never even made it.
Not knowing what awaited them on the slave ships, those who made it to the coast were held captives in the castle’s dungeons. They were subjected to all sorts of indignities, intimidation and torture. They were shackled in the damp and dark dungeons. It is said that up to 300 captives were packed into each dungeon, without room to even lift an arm or move around. Food was scarce and disease was rampant. As the tour guide is talking, it is easy to visualize hundreds of captives in the dungeons, screaming out their agonies, just pleading to be returned home. But alas, we know their countless cries went unheard. Countless numbers of them died under these atrocious conditions. Those who survived the dungeons had to endure further indignities of being shackled together & tightly packed like cattle on those slave ships. And when they died, they were simply tossed over-board into the sea, for fish and other sea life to feed on and their names were forever forgotten.
Throughout the slave trade period, at different times, thousands of captured slaves were chained to cannonballs at the castle, and made to stand in the blazing sun. Women, when their capturers were not raping them, could be made to lift heavy cannonballs in the blistering sun as punishment. Other so-called rebellious captives were either murdered outright, or placed in solitary confinement in an airtight, dark holding ‘facility’ in the courtyard, and could be left there to starve to death. Yet, while all these atrocities were going on, the castle also served as a missionary sanctuary and housed a church (???). The slave traders held church services there.
Perhaps the most significant memory from Elmina Castle is ‘The Door of No Return’. This was where hundreds of thousands of ancestors passed during the slave trade era to awaiting slave ships to be transported across the Atlantic to the so-called "New World". This is where the ancestors of many African descendants in the diaspora- namely in the Americas, Canada and the Caribbean, passed to their doom. Those who survived were introduced to racism, and forced to lose their African language, identity and culture. They had to assimilate to a new culture completely alien to them, or bear the consequences of being punished. There is a plaque next to the condemned dungeon door at Elmina. It reads:
“In Everlasting Memory of the anguish of our ancestors. May those who died, rest in peace. May those who return, find their roots. May humanity never again perpetrate such injustice against humanity. We, the living, vow to uphold this.”
Not knowing what awaited them on the slave ships, those who made it to the coast were held captives in the castle’s dungeons. They were subjected to all sorts of indignities, intimidation and torture. They were shackled in the damp and dark dungeons. It is said that up to 300 captives were packed into each dungeon, without room to even lift an arm or move around. Food was scarce and disease was rampant. As the tour guide is talking, it is easy to visualize hundreds of captives in the dungeons, screaming out their agonies, just pleading to be returned home. But alas, we know their countless cries went unheard. Countless numbers of them died under these atrocious conditions. Those who survived the dungeons had to endure further indignities of being shackled together & tightly packed like cattle on those slave ships. And when they died, they were simply tossed over-board into the sea, for fish and other sea life to feed on and their names were forever forgotten.
Throughout the slave trade period, at different times, thousands of captured slaves were chained to cannonballs at the castle, and made to stand in the blazing sun. Women, when their capturers were not raping them, could be made to lift heavy cannonballs in the blistering sun as punishment. Other so-called rebellious captives were either murdered outright, or placed in solitary confinement in an airtight, dark holding ‘facility’ in the courtyard, and could be left there to starve to death. Yet, while all these atrocities were going on, the castle also served as a missionary sanctuary and housed a church (???). The slave traders held church services there.
Perhaps the most significant memory from Elmina Castle is ‘The Door of No Return’. This was where hundreds of thousands of ancestors passed during the slave trade era to awaiting slave ships to be transported across the Atlantic to the so-called "New World". This is where the ancestors of many African descendants in the diaspora- namely in the Americas, Canada and the Caribbean, passed to their doom. Those who survived were introduced to racism, and forced to lose their African language, identity and culture. They had to assimilate to a new culture completely alien to them, or bear the consequences of being punished. There is a plaque next to the condemned dungeon door at Elmina. It reads:
“In Everlasting Memory of the anguish of our ancestors. May those who died, rest in peace. May those who return, find their roots. May humanity never again perpetrate such injustice against humanity. We, the living, vow to uphold this.”
With heavy hearts and an air of gratitude, we packed back into the car and headed back home to Accra.
To learn more, CBS aired a short video clip last month on the castle in Elmina, and you can view it at: http://cbs5.com/video/?cid=130 **************************************************
December 10 (the anniversary of my Dad's death 3 years ago) marked 'moving day' for us 3 again... 3rd time's the charm?? God, I hope so.
This time we are staying behind a bar in Osu, where it is loud and there is no guard, but we now have a/c and hopefully a bit more of our Canadian independence back! But whew! are we ever paying for it!
December 13 was an odd day at work...
upon arrival, my co-worker, Francisca didn't quite seem herself. She later informed me that the secretary for HelpAge Ghana had been robbed of her cell phone moments before my arrival. Apparently, the Director had been helping out a troubled man for some time and he would kinda come and go from HAG as he needed things. So this man showed up before the Director arrived and what he did was distract the secretary with something outside, as Francisca was in the bathroom and within seconds, her phone was gone! The 2 girls ran up the streets, but there was no sign of him. Just another reminder to me that I can lose my replacements (from when I was robbed in Sept.) at any time again, so I shouldn't be all too attached to them...
these are some desperate times.
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Anyone for some cooked cat?! Yes, you read that right--- MEOW! CAT!!!
On December 16, I was over visiting my boy, Jamal in Teshie Nungua and went to his balcony to get some air from the stifling heat.
As I looked down, I noticed a boy scraping away at what looked like a black, charred taxidermy item over a small, contained fire...
impossible I thought-- so I called Jamal over.
He looked down at the boy, greeted him and casually said to me, 'oh-- it's just cat. You should know that after having lived in Africa so long.' CAT?! I said aloud.
I got a closer look at the perfectly intact cat body with no fur- completely charred black and realized the thing the boy was scraping away was the cat's ears...... ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!! What a horrific thing to see I kept saying aloud to Jamal, who then bluntly reminded me, 'hey, if that's all they can eat for today, it's all they have'.
Cat.
Imagine having no other choice but to eat 'cat' for a meal... damn near impossible to imagine for me, as I'd rather starve! But for some, the reality is that it may be all they have to choose from and I quickly put my North American-isms aside and quietly went into his living room to sit down.
New topic.
On December 23, my roommates and I, along with our boys, Black and Jamal travelled back along the coast for another getaway-- this time to a quaint, small town called 'Winneba' which is a fishing village.
We really just went to chill and relax, and for me, I wanted to go swimming in the ocean for the first time since landing in Ghana!
But whoa-- what an moving experience! I went into the ocean with my roommate Beth, holding hands and what happened next is nothing short of a riot! The undercurrents were so strong that once I went down (and imagine-- still holding Beth's hand!) I was like a ragdoll! I don't know how Beth managed to hang onto me, but we were both in tears from laughter after I steadied myself on my feet!
Later that night, after a few drinks we all sat along the beach's edge, singing any and all random songs that popped into our 5 little heads!
The most memorable for me was us singing, 'Redemption Song' after all we'd seen/learned of the true meaning behind the lyrics of that song...
brought tears to my eyes.
Christmas Eve was celebrated by us in the traditional way of going to church (and a Catholic one at that!). I was shocked when I awoke though on Christmas morning to see Santa (aka Beth) had found us 3 Canadians in Osu! Thanks again B!
Christmas dinner however proved to be very 'Ghanaian'...
in fact, we never actually got to eat (or 'chop' as they say here in Ghana) our dinner until nearly midnight that night... going onto Boxing Day! Us 3 girls had spent the whole day prepping and cooking the meal for us and our Ghanaian friends (like home) and we thought my boss would pop over with his family to join us as well... only to have him show up at like 7pm and say he's taking us out to eat and his whole family was waiting in the car! We explained we had prepared a wonderful meal for the lot of them, but he insisted he take us out to treat us, so what could we do?! So there we sat, in our Christmas dresses at a Chinese restaurant, with our boss-- as our friends who were planning on coming over, waited somewhere in Osu on us!!
It was one of the most unique Christmas experiences I can say!
On December 26, my boss asked me, Beth and Francisca to attend a 'Party for the Underprivileged' (awful title I agree) on behalf of HelpAge Ghana. They had some entertainment, free lunch and they were offering free haircuts, perms and dye jobs to the attendees (which were the elderly, single mothers, homeless, impoverished) of this event. My sister, Francisca explained to us that it was wonderful to offer such a hair service to the younger girls there from the North.
See, the girls from the North in attendance there seemed so young to me... like babies themselves-- toting around their own babies which were likely the product of a loveless, one-night offer. Francisca explained to us that oftentimes, girls will flock to Accra from the North with the hope of a brighter future... meaning that they'll find a job to earn an income, which is hard to acquire in the North. The north is devoid of economic opportunity, and without any specialized skills, the south leaves these girls with few desirable options. She said because many of these girls come from the North with only the clothes on their backs, they become 'head porters' in Accra (meaning they will carry any/everything for you on their heads- anywhere in the city, for a small fee) and they sleep on the streets-- with most sleeping in their actual tin, oversized porter bowl. The tin bowls are used to carry loads of goods atop their heads for whatever tips they can scrape up. They literally guard their bowls with their lives while resting, leaving nothing but each other to guard their young, fragile bodies.
Much of the time they sit waiting for work to come along, disillusioned by the myth of quick cash that lured them into the city in the first place.
Much of the time they sit waiting for work to come along, disillusioned by the myth of quick cash that lured them into the city in the first place.
So from sleeping on the streets, of course it is quite easy for them to become riddled with disease and viruses from what they will do to acquire an income. Many, Francisca explained, get head lice and rely on their sisterly porters to pick it out for them, while risking getting it themselves. As well, men know they are an easy lay so they target them for cheap sex, and the girls often end up pregnant and alone... making for now 2 living in abject poverty.
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The next day, I went with my roommate's and Francisca to a small town, Ashiyie to give a lesson on HIV/AIDS to the elderly that belong to Caitlin's group that she has been working with since her arrival. The lesson went well and there were many myths to dispell, but I was only too happy to do so.
To get to Ashiyie, we had to pass through godforsaken, Zongo Junction in Madina where I was robbed. I just held my breath (and my bag) and barrelled through to where we had to go.
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New Year's Eve was our last December memory and just as fireworks can light up a dark sky, they too can be the root of a cultural clash! Us Canadian girls wanted to go somewhere where we could see fireworks and party... but our Ghanaian counterparts instead wanted to attend church and see the new year be rung in at church. So there we all were, outside of a Catholic church... with the 3 of us girls, dressed to kill in our party wear and our boys on bended knee (yes, literally) in church! We did our own small countdown, and after the boys were done, we all headed to Independence Square to see if there were any fireworks taking place and they said they had been cancelled this year. Argh! Just our luck.
So after returning home, Beth and I took a stroll up Oxford St. in Osu to see what was happening at the annual street party and it was there we saw 1 firework go off... and in the funniest way imaginable!
Most North Americans fear the backfiring of unpredictable fireworks... well, not Ghanaians! We passed a guy literally holding the part that should be shoved into the ground as you walk away after lighting it-- in his HAND!!! And we saw it go off-- in his HAND! Oh, did we ever laugh and so did he!
Needless to say, 2007 surely did go out with its big bang.
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