Cape Coast/Elmina Weekend

Greetings again my friends. I got back from Cape Coast yesterday night and need to tell you about the weekend.

Aaron, Heather, Rhia and myself left Accra on Friday in Emanuel's car. This thing is a piece of crap. Rickety, old and without shocks, this 1980's Golf has seen too many bumpy roads yet still runs.

We left Accra at about 5 pm. Bad idea. The traffic getting out of the city was insane. I've never noticed how air quality is such an amazing luxury we take for granted in Canada. Seriously. We think we're terrible polluters and that every car is bringing global warming closer and closer, but you should see cars here. Pieces of crap from decades past rule the roads here and diesel is the fuel of choice. The smell is unbearable in the scorching sun. I really feel pity for the hawkers standing at the side of the road who are showered with black smoke constantly. Probably not the best thing for your lungs but I guess environmentalism isn't really a priority here when many don't even have running water.

The drive to Cape Coast was calming after the hecticness of Accra's traffic. One can see the ocean for extended stretches along the unpaved road. This brings me to one of my pet peeves of guidebooks. While they give important information, its definitely not cool when they write that "all roads are paved" when in reality, most seem like minefields of potholes and are 'under construction' constantly. Combine the lack of shocks and cramping three people in the back of Emanuel's car and you've got one sore butt.

We stayed at the Savoy Hotel in Cape Coast. Quite good conditions. Running water, sufficient ceiling fan and a lovely stone cross marking the top of the embankment of the hotel itself. Its always good to know that Jesus is watching you while you sleep.

On Saturday we set out for the Cape Coast castle. Despite the usual approaches from money-seeking locals, the atmosphere of the castle experience was positive. We were toured around (with the most white people I had seen since coming here) the castle, shown all the slave dungeons, holding rooms and cells. The governor's quarters reeked of colonial materialism with a private bathing area, living room, two bedrooms for one man when up to one thousand slaves were cramped in half the space in the sub-basement level. There was a door called the "Door of No Return". This was where slaves were led through as they were taken to the ships. The sight of it eerily reminded me of the entrance to Majdanek's gas chambers. The most surprising sight was the presence of cannonbals intact. The castle had seen so many battles (from the Portugese, Swedes, Danes, Dutch and British) so the cannonballs presence is understandable.

After Cape Coast, we went to the Elmina castle. The oldest standing building outside of Europe in sub-Saharan Africa, the history of this castle is quite amazing. Control changed hands from the Portugese to the Dutch to the British and now to Ghana. The British fought the local tribes incessantly and used their typical colonial trickery to gain control. It is said that the British sought a meeting with a local king and when the tribe showed for the peaceful meeting, the British surprised the tribe and crushed the village with ruthless bloodshed.

Being at the castles failed to affect me emotionally. While some say I have no emotions at all, I am continually surprised by my reaction to sites of atrocity. Having visiting Poland and the concentration camps built by the Nazis and now the slave castles reminding me of the abhorrent past of slavery, I wonder why, when I visit these sites, I do not cry nor feel truly terrible at what I am seeing. Then I realize that the problem is in the disconnect between the physical location of atrocity and the actual acts themselves. Is a marker of a mass grave in a random forest what we should remember or is the inhumane actions of men devaluing others? I think that my experience at the castles cemented the concept in my head that the site isn't as important as the stories of the pain itself. Bricks crumble but historical scars never heal.

After leaving Elmina, we drove back to Cape Coast to enjoy the sunset at a beachside bar. I played a little guitar (oh yea...I bought a guitar here...classical frame with metal strings...not the best sound but sufficient for me here). Then the rains came. Oh how did it rain. Because its the rainy season, it seems to rain almost every day here but the rain lasts for under an hour maximum. But that hour seems like an eternity when the only cover one has is a hastily made straw roof.

After the rain subsided, we went to a club in Cape Coast. I figure the rain made people stay at home but the club was just dead. Roughly six couples were in there and eveyrone stayed around the lounge. Its okay. I had a good long talk with Rhia about love and ex's and travel. We drank these plastic "tots" (about a shot and a half) of gin along with an energy drink. One has to wonder how all of life's experiences contribute to standing at a Mobil station in rural Ghana taking shots out of a plastic sealed bag?

The drive back last night was pretty uncomfortable as usual. Rhia got sick. Dehydration, not eating anything and too much sun probably contributed. Its intersting that someone who is afraid to try most of the local cuisine got sick before I did when I'm always willing to try things. The latest adventures in cuisine that I've had are kenkey (a cassava dough), sardines (I hate to admit but they're amazing here) and willie (rolled cowskin). The food in general here is quite good. Very spicy so it suits me perfectly. I like how eating with one's hands is also a common practice. It beats cutlery any day.

The oddest cultural practice I've noticed, and one which I wish was part of Canadian culture, is public urination. Men can literally pee anywhere they wish. And I mean anywhere. While I choose to turn my back and create even a superficial feeling of privacy, most Ghanian men comfortably pee facing busy streets. The only problem is the public health concerns. But that is just one problem. The open sewers are filled with toxic substances that people don't even realize can harm them. Most people don't even realize how malaria is spread and apparently cholera is making a comeback here. Education seems to be the most important way to fight every problem here. Its not that people are lazy or stupid, they simply are unaware of most problems and just continue their way of life with comfortable bliss.

Well my time is up. I know I've written a lot but I hope you enjoy my random musings from this strange country. I've decided to go to the radio station less and do my own thing more. I plan on visiting the International Press Centre tomorrow and just start to find my own stories. After being here for two weeks now, I'm starting to feel comfortable walking around all the time and having everyone stare. It'll probably be weird to come back to Canada and not have everyone be shocked to see me and my white skin. Well I've still got a few more weeks here so more stories will definitely be coming.

Later,

Jonah