Kokrobite

This weekend I went and stayed at a beach resort called Big Milly's, at Kokrobite beach. It is a fairly touristy place, but doesn't give that gross feeling of being somewhere that was made for tourists.

We played football on the beach (my first time), swam in the ocean, and ate fried rice from a rasta man in a little wooden shack. Then I layed on the beach and read my book for a little while, listening to the waves crashing in. This kind of relaxation time has been less common than I hoped for. I am almost as busy here as I am in Canada.

At night, it was Reggae night and there was a live band playing really, really good reggae. I was so tired a felt drunk, which meant I didn't have to drink anything all night! I danced with a girl name Akosie, who grew up in Nigeria and had a great time teaching me how to dance to reggae music. I learned a lot actually, and she was super fun. I am still really bad a grinding...I am doubtful that will ever change.

I was hoping to go to bed at around 12, so I could wake up and watch the sunrise over the ocean. My bed, though, was right behind the band. No sleep for me. I was actually thankful, though, because the night was so enjoyable and it poured rain in the morning anyway.

At around 2:30am, I got hungry and so I went to buy some friend yam (imagine yam fries only about 5 times as thick). There group of guys hanging around the shop started talking with me and we ended up eating three bowls of yam fries. The poor woman making them for us looked so frustrated, because she kept having to make more and more as we stood there eating. They guys were so relaxed and it was so fun, probably the best part of the night. It was like making a Mcdonalds in Canada late at night after you have been drinking. It is just the best time to laugh, and the food tastes so much better than it actually is.

As we were eating the yam, a giant thunder and lightning storm started out over the ocean. It was so beautiful and scary to watch the intensity of that storm, and the waves became at least twice the size they were earlier. We went for a long walk along the beach, talking and watching the lightning. A dog followed us the whole way, occasionally wanting to play with our feet.

I woke up in the morning to gail-force winds and rain that felt like hail. I just stayed in bed and watched other people running around in it, enjoying the feeling. It was so fresh after it stopped, and everything was new and wet. It was a really nice way to end the weekend, and I got to see palm trees blowing like in a hurricane!

I met a really nice man named Eddy, who took me to eat Banku in the village we were near. He is a school teacher and told me that I could find a place in the village to live for two months and a school to teach at in June and July if that was how I wanted to spend that time. It is neat to think about. Living in a small village, close to Accra, on the beach, teaching at a primary school. Once in a lifetime experience. Anyway, Eddy was one of the most generous and inviting Ghanaian person I have met so far, and I feel very blessed to have met him.

Oh, and as for rehearsals for the show I am in, I was casted as the lead white guy, which means I have a dance solo...

Weekend in Volta

Monkeys jumped up on you!

or reached down to grab your food.

Wli falls. What you don't see is the walls covered in bats.

On top of the tallest mountain in Ghana (and maybe even West Africa) with my friend Antonio. You can see the Togo from the top.

Volta Region

This weekend we went to the Volta Region, the area to the east of the Volta River and the only area in Ghana that has mountains.

There were 10 of us, half Ghanaian, half international (most from Canada!) and we did the trip in a van - called a tro-tro. The roads outside of Accra are insane. There are as many speed bumps as potholes and there is no such thing as a passing lane (because that would mean people couldn't pass when going uphill around a corner...).

There are so many unfinished buildings in Ghana - brick buildings that are mostly built but have been abandoned. I asked our tour guide Elvis why they were there and he said they were projects that one government started, that the next government did not complete. There is a competition over who gets credit for things, so new governments cancel the previous governments' projects. Talk about wasted money and materials.

Our first stop in our trip was to Afadjato mountain, the tallest in West Africa. It is not big, compared to Vancouver mountains, but it was STEEP! There was never a point where we were not moving straight up, and because of the dirt and dried leaves, sliding down was always a realistic possibility. Our guide up the mountain was named Wisdom, and he did the mountain in flip-flops. He said he sometimes climbs it 5 times a day. I asked him if I could feel his leg muscles. They were literally solid - no fat at all.

We reached the peak and had a stunning 360 degree view. On one side we could see the village at the base of the mountain. The rest was just rainforest, like the kind you imagine or see in movies. Wisdom told us that we were looking at the Togolese border, we were that close to Togo. It is Harmattan season right now, so the sky was dusty. It made the whole experience feel even more mysterious and it kept the sun from melting us.

We descended the mountain (quickly, sliding from tree to tree) and walked through the maize field back to the village. We then went to the Wli waterfall, which is the most beautiful waterfall I have ever seen. It is tall, slim, and cold. There is a little pool at the base, and we swam out to it and stood under the fall. It was so refreshing, and so magical to be standing in Ghana, in a rainforest, under a waterfall.

When we finally got out of the water, I went and sat on a rock up on a ledge. I looked up and the sky was swarming with bats. Then I looked at the wall of the waterfall. It was covered in bats hanging and sleeping! There were hundreds, if not thousands of bats hanging on the wall or flying in the air. Then there was an outpouring of bats from caves in the wall and the sky was about half blotted out from all the bats in the sky. No noise, just thousands of bats. It was mesmerizing to sit there and watch them all, and a little unsettling. For some reason I have a fear of bats, and I could not help but think of what might happen if they all decided to dive-bomb me...

We stayed in Elvis' village for the night. It was unreal. In the back of his house, just down a hill was a stream full of frogs. They made a symphony of croaks, and it was loud! I had never heard so many frogs before. I stayed outside and listened to them while the others went back inside and then the voices and drums started. There was an all night prayer service happening somewhere not too far away, and their was music and dance mingled with the frog's symphony. I couldn't move, I just sat there and listened. Any of you who know me know that I am always like that when there is live music, but this was something different.

We had a campfire, and told stories to each other, the drumming and singing from the prayer service occasionally supporting our stories. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard. The people we were with were characters, each their own. The night felt like a rendition of CATS; there was no story pulling it all together, just random moments of witnessing someone's character. The way each person shared felt very real to who they were.

The next morning, we ate tea (out of a bowl) and bread. It was somehow more delicious than tea or bread usually are. I think the whole weekend just made it so. Then we walked through Elvis' village, and met his family and friends. I don't know what to say about village life yet. It was beautiful, but I don't want to romanticize it. It was also very poor. People looked content, but I didn't have a chance to speak with any of them.

Our last stop was the monkey sanctuary. We pulled up to this little building, and the guy led us about 3 minutes into the forest and started making loud smootching sounds. All of a sudden, you could hear the trees rustling, and then a whole family of monkeys were surrounding us in the trees. We were all given a banana, and told to hold it in your hand. The monkeys would come up to you, reach out, peel the banana, and take the food. The harder you held on, the more they had to work for it, the longer it took them to get the banana. If you were really adventurous, you could stand a little farther away, and the monkeys would jump onto your arm to get it. They will only do this if you are not looking at them.

I was offering my banana to a monkey, then I turned my head to ask someone to take a photo when two monkeys jumped on my arm. One climbed up onto my shoulder, and the other grabbed the banana and left. I wasn't scared for even a second though. They were light, and gentle. They just took the banana and then left. It was funny, to have an experience like that so unexpectedly - it almost seemed anti-climatic, like it should have been more scary.

On the drive home, we were pulled over by the Ghana Road Inspection Police. They asked us to get out of the car, and they searched every single bag we had in the vehicle. Some people were really mad. For me, I felt annoyed at the situation. It was clear, from the beginning, that there was no valid reason for them to do this. They were hoping to get money from us. That is often the case with the police. They waste your time until you give a bribe to go. There was no respect from any of us in the group, but we have to obey what they say because they have large rifles in their backs. It is a frustrating mixture of fear and disrespect. Here, people don't listen to the police because they trust that they are looking out for them. It is the opposite. They listen to them because there is a legitimate fear of their power, and the knowledge that there are may not be the structures in place to prevent the abuse of that power. And that's what it is, and abuse of power.

We left, frustrated at them and out wasted time. Nothing could spoil the weekend though, so after venting about it, we all sat back and added it to the memorable moments of the weekend. Perfect people, perfect trip. Boom.

Say what..?

I am going to be a part of a national performance piece about a revolt that sparked the independence movement in Ghana. I will be one of the British soldiers that opens fire on the Ghanaian serviceman who did not receive what was promised them. I will be paid for the performance, and it will be aired on national television. The cast is over 40, with singing, poetry, dance, and music. It will be directed by one of Ghana's nationally recognized poets, and aired under the Independence Arch in downtown Accra on February 28th, the anniversary of the revolt. Nothing on this scale has ever been done in memory of this event.

Adam, I am asking the same question as you. How did I manage this?

My two favourite photos I have taken thus far

"Not very good" is a phrase I am using a lot...

Competitive soccer is intimidating to me because I have never played it before. It is even more intimidating in Africa, where your average player is at least 10 times as good as I am. It is seriously embarrassing sometimes to be in the game with them, and miss the most simple shot that they would have made with their eyes closed and in flip flops.

Today was the first training/practice for the ISH football team. I wanted to go, but I was also really scared. I was telling myself that I wouldn't be good enough, I have enough things to keep me busy, I won't fit in even if I join, etc. It started at 4. It was 4 and I still hadn't left my room. Feeling defeated, I went to sleep for 30 mins. I woke up at 4:45 to hear the group of players going to the field. I was still hesitating. Then I just decided that if you never try, you can never succeed and that the hardest part is always beginning. So I put my shoes on and went.

On the way, I talked to Ata who let me know that I am welcome on the team but may not play every game. He told me it is about what the team needs, not about being an all-star. He was just being polite, I know, but it was all I needed to feel comfortable. Practice was fun, I sweat a lot, and I did way better than I was expecting. Most importantly, I stayed committed to doing the crazy thing and putting myself in situations that are scary and intimidating to me. I feel strong

Oh, and did I mention my day started at 8:30 with a traditional dance class? Talk about putting yourself in situations where you are not naturally talented!

Another unexpectedly wonderful day

The theme for this day is "Things you would have missed out on if you didn't do the crazy thing."

I went to church this morning, after going out last night, and was tired and grumpy and hungry. Church went for over 2 and a half hours (which even by Ghanaian standards is a long service!) and I was really feeling the heat and humidity. I just wanted to go home, eat, and sleep.

Just before leaving, I bumped into a woman named Lesh from Botswana that I had met before. I didn't recognize her though. So awkward. So we had this awkward conversation where it was clear I just wanted to go back to my room, and she looked a little upset that she remembered me but I didn't remember her.

I went to the bathroom. When I finally started for home, she called me from a bus and told me the bus was going near my place and I should ride it with her. I did and we had the best conversation. She is 31 going on 32, the only Mutswana student on campus, and she loves salsa dancing. Our conversation was very real, and I felt immediately close to her. I think she will be a close friend of mine on this trip. I am really glad that she invited me to ride that bus.

As a result of the bus ride with Lesh, which took a long detour all around the campus and more than doubled the time it took me to get home, I did not have time to nap before I was supposed to go and meet a Ghanaian girl named Abigail.

Abigail and I danced together on my second night in Ghana. We really got along. We tried to dance together, I would not be able to follow what she was doing, then she would turn to me and tell me I was a terrible dancer, I would agree, and we would both laugh. I have never gotten a number from a girl at a club and actually called her before, but this was different. It wasn't sexually motivated on either side, we just had fun together.

We have been trying to meet since. But I wasn't sure it was a good idea. All the worst-case scenarios were running through my mind, I didn't know how to get to where she told me to meet her, I was alone, I was tired, and I am still unclear about cultural understandings of romantic relationships. I was literally standing at the edge of my building debating going back inside to sleep.

I did the crazy thing and went.

I asked people along the way for directions of how to get to Nungua, near Teshie, on the other side of the city. People here are so friendly, they always want to help you get where you are going. So I took the TroTros all the way to my destination.

Abigail met me at the bus stop, and we went to her Aunty's store - "Understanding Spot." A Spot in Ghana is like a pub in Canada. There were a bunch of men that hang around there every day, and I met all of them. One spoke French and we chatted in French (well, sort of - he actually didn't know much French...he kept saying couscous....wtf?!?!).

Abigail and I walked to the beach and talked about our families and our futures. She kept telling me I asked too many questions, but how else do you get to know someone?

She is Ghanaian, but was raised in Nigeria with her aunty for 13 years. She is the only child to her mother and father, but they both have kids with other partners. Abi doesn't know them. She wants to be a nurse. She wants to accomplish this before getting married, so that she is independent and does not have to rely on the man. I thought that was really great. She also can't swim.

We went back to her Aunty's spot both because it was starting to rain, and because the Ghanaian football match was starting. They were in the quarter finals in the African Cup of Nations tournament. All of Ghana is stoked about the tournament.

It was such a real moment. I was just sitting in a small bar, in a totally local part of Accra, watching football with a bunch of local regulars.

Ghana scored. Everyone jumped up and screamed. Tunisia scored. The room was silent. It went to overtime. Ghana scored. You could hear the screams and music in the surrounding streets. Abi's aunty took me about 6 blocks away and we danced with a group of Ghanaians, surrounding a group of drummers. A pack of little kids came up and were teaching me Asonto moves, and laughing at how bad I was. They were SO GOOD! It was kind of weird...

Then the game ended and the dance party became a parade, which I was then a part of. We skipped and danced down the street with horns and drums. Taxis were blowing their horns, and more and more people kept joining.

I had to get home though, so I left the parade, and hopped into a tro-tro. I was lucky to get on, as the crowd seemed to have the same idea as me. We were driving down the road, packed with people wearing Ghanaian flags, dancing and singing when - out of nowhere - a parade at least 5 times as large as the one I had been in poured onto the road in front of the tro. It came to a screeching halt. People were pounding on the sides of the vehicle as they danced by. It was actually really scary and intimidating, and I couldn't help but think what it would be like to be in a civil war or civil unrest.

On a brighter note, I realized that if Graham and James were with me, we would have jumped out of the tro at that moment and joined the dance party. No questions asked.

None of this day would have happened if I had given in to the tiredness and the reluctance. It was one of the best days I have had here so far. By myself. Off campus. Scary, but so worth it.

I love doing the crazy thing.