Akuah Teresa

I have been adopted. My new name is Akuah (Akweeaa), it means Wednesday born, although I’m not sure I really was born on a Wednesday. I have had marriage proposals every other day from men of all shapes and sizes, but usually much too old for me. It’s actually rather fun to think up new come backs for refusal. But in all seriousness, I’m leaving my heart in Ghana with my new friends and family…

We cried when we left Obuasi. The home we stayed in was the warmest, Maa Lizzy and Daa Koffi were the sweetest and most generous couple I have ever met. Their 6 children (youngest is 26 yrs old) have been equally as welcoming, three we visited in Obuasi and the other three we stayed with in Accra. We were extremely busy in Obuasi, we visited a lot of people’s homes, all friends and family of my roommate in the area. We took a day trip to Kumasi (an hours drive) to visit the zoo and the cultural centre. At the zoo, a rambuncious ape spat on us because we didn’t buy him a banana and also chucked a piece of poop at my roommates shoe. Luckily it missed by an inch. The cultural centre was really interesting, we learned all about the history of the Ashanti people. We got to see how drums and pottery were made, as well as their traditional Kente cloth.

We went out dancing one night with friends: 4 men and 3 of us girls, so we felt rather safe, but without anyone knowing one of the guys had found two friends to act as bodyguards and watch us all night. I was surprised to find that out later, but it was nice to know our friends were looking out for us. We were mostly escorted everywhere we went in Obuasi as well.

By the time we got back to Accra, I was sick of riding in buses. It’s usually chaos, bartering for a ticket and watching that the luggage isn’t carried off to never be seen again, while the crowds around you are persistantly pushing goods in your face to buy and yelling over the din. Often you’ll see preachers on street corners with a microphone, speaking the word of God and sometimes speaking in tongues, and on the bus ride to Accra a lady stood up to preach for almost an hour. And if you ever say “Alleluia” out loud there is a resounding “A-MEN!” immediately. The taxi’s are all labelled with phrases such as Nyame Adom meaning God’s grace, or Jesu Nhyira meaning Jesus blessing, and the stores have similar names like God is Great Beauty Salon, or Salt of the Earth Upholstery.

Back in Accra we took a few days to rest over the weekend, to laze about the house and play Ludo. Ludo is a board game similar to “Trouble” or “Sorry” except with more ways to send other players’ pieces home. It gets to be rather wicked when your playing with competitive people who would rather send you home then get their own players to safety. We played a lot in Obuasi, so Maa Lizzy gave us her board to take home.

We went out dancing that Saturday night in Accra, which was very fun although a little unnerving with all eyes on the only white girl in the room. After church on Sunday we went to Bojo, a beautiful resort beach. You have to pay to get on the beach but they provide lifeguards, music, volleyball nets, and a boat across the man made lake to the long stretch of beautiful white sand. We had an unbrella and wooden chairs set up for us by the bar and proceeded to swim in the huge waves, walk in the clean soft sand, and jetski in the calm lake until the sun went down.

Monday we were back on a bus for a day trip to Cape Coast. It is two hours drive (partly because it takes forever to leave the traffic in Accra behind) but it was worth the drive. Cape Coast was the most beautiful scenery I had seen yet. We chartered a taxi to take us to Kokum National Park which has 7 bridge constructed by 2 Canadians and 6 Ghanaians, made from ladders strung together hundreds of feet above the ground. It’s rickety and creaky but there is railings and netting all the way along. Even so the tour took a long time while the group fearfully and slowly walked across. I think there is something wrong with me because I was the only one who didn’t find it scary at all. Is it really likely the bottom is going to fall out? I didn’t think so, but I’m rather trusting of these things in general.

The road to El Mina Castle in Cape Coast was gorgeous. The road followed the shore where you could see only endless sea between the palm trees. The castle was built by the Porteguese and later taken over by the Dutch and was used as a holding place for captured black slaves before they were shipped to Europe or America.  The evils that occured in that building were so atrocious, it was hard to understand how it came to be. They even had a church built directly above the women’s slave dungeon. It was extremely depressing, but the tour guide finished and explained why it was good that we came to listen and see, to educate ourselves and remember these atrocities so that history would never repeat itself:

“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 uphold this.”

To date I have eaten the following traditional foods: banku (my favourite with ochre stew!), fufu, kinkey, wakhye, palm oil soup, peanut stew,  and many others whose names I can’t spell, pronounce or remember. Among other things that might frighten some stomachs into implosion, I ate a large chunky black snail, thick rubbery cow hide, and extremely tasty goat intestine. I was lucky to have almost no trouble adapting to the diet, but near the end there were dreams of a Macdonalds Big Mac and a Starbucks coffee. For this I am slightly ashamed… what a way to miss home and return to your roots…

Pictures to come soon!

t.