So far so good

After our first couple of days in Accra, stocking up on West African visas, we headed to Cape Coast where we explored the two main castles used for exporting slaves to the New World in the trans- Atlantic slave trade during the 15th & 16th centuries, now both recognized as UNESCO world heritage sites.

We found Cape Coast a bit overwhelming. This is probably where we got our first bout of “culture shock”. One does not really get used to the open sewers and the associated gagging and nausea as one walks down the streets. Every second day there is "lights out" which is basically part of some sort of electricity load management scheme. Not too different from Cape Town! Apparently the hydro-electric power generated from the largest man–made dam here in Ghana is sold by the government to the neighbouring countries, leaving Ghanaians with power only every second day. Or, another take on the story, is that the neighbouring countries like Cote d’Ivoire and Burkina Faso have built their own dams further up the Volta River, leaving the dam here in Ghana with insufficient water for the hydro –electric power. There appears to be a fare amount of news coverage regarding alternatives such as nuclear power. Either way, it means limited electricity is commonplace. The water supply is also erratic. One can fully expect to be in the shower, fully soaped- up, shampoo lathered into our one’s hair, and without fail, the water will cease to run. At this point one feels rather foolish to have anticipated otherwise, and the best solution is just to laugh!

There are numerous posters and billboards announcing Ghana’s golden jubilee, celebrating 50 years of independence from British rule when Ghana was previously called, Gold Coast. The slogan on the billboards displayed around the capital reads, “Championing 50 yrs of African excellence”. Yet, as the fans stop in this intense midday heat, the gas lamps come out of the kitchens, and the generators splutter up, one wonders! The ruling political party’s slogan is “so far so good”. I suppose this is a positive outlook .Ghanaians meet life with a laugh. They are quick to smile and laugh at you, as an “Obruni” (a white person) and themselves as well. So I suppose they truly take ‘so far so good’ to heart.

On the streets the Ghanaians always want to stop and have a chat. The list of questions are always the same, and after a while, rather tiresome to be frank. The first question is “Are you a volunteer?”. Most the “Obrunis” in Ghana are here on a mission of benevolence and goodwill. We met 18 year old volunteers from Manchester working in the rural northern parts of Ghana setting up computer facilities for the local school, which in their opinion, has little chance of sustainability once they depart. We met Scandinavian student doctors going to Togo to discover a new vaccine for some or other tropical disease, Dutch optometrists dishing out free glasses to the local people and plenty American Peace Corps workers. Thus, it is no surprise that Ghanaians express disbelief when we announce that our mission in Ghana is purely for tourism. We do not launch into a discussion of our mission to understand our native continent, as white Africans and that we are amateur film makers etc etc. The second question is always, “Are you married?”, and lastly, “Which country?”. Once they learn we are South Africans we often get a doubtful look, and we then say “Sorry, no green card!”. The exchange then ends with a big smile and we are welcomed as fellow Africans! Of course these exchanges are usually with men, as the women appear to be busy doing real work !

The culinary delights of this ex- British colony have taken time for our palettes to become accustomed to. I cannot say that either of us have become fans of the maize- based dish, Fufu, drenched in red, spicy, hot sauce, called light soup, served with fish, chicken or, at times, other unidentified pieces of meat. Emmylou has noted that there is not a large adult dog and cat population here in Ghana? Emmylou once ordered a seafood stew at a local restaurant in Tocarardi. Well, poor Emmylou suffered through two bites before declaring that the numerous whole crabs in the stew were indeed rather off-putting. In all honesty, it looked like a dish out of the TV series “Fear Factor”. The part I enjoy most about the Ghanaian culinary experience is eating with your hands. Or should I rather say your right hand….. only. Apparently the left hand is for other necessary bodily functions.

It is interesting to see how Ghana is a real mixture of influences. Hip-hop, 50 Cent, and every form of Christianity mix together easily with animist traditionalist religious beliefs, Kente cloth and the wearing of protective amulets. It is interesting to see that all the street stalls and shops are named after bible verses or Christian sayings, for example, "God is Able Hair salon" is a common sight. One is forced to say a prayer when stepping into a pirogue (a dug-out canoe) called "Don’t loose hope, Keep on praying”!

After the first week of this ‘culture shock’, we decided it was necessary to retreat to the palm-studded beaches along the coast. We spent a week at the Green Turtle Lodge, a British expiate run eco-lodge. The nearest village is called Akwidaa, west of Accra. Well, it is closer to the Cote d’ Ivoire border than to Accra. You won’t find it on a map. Here we were treated to the luxuries of western life like honey drenched French toast for breakfast, Pina Colada cocktails at happy hour, lazy days on the beach working on our tans, even a little body boarding in the surf that can best be described as ‘dangerous’.

Sweating our way north we headed to Kumasi, the city of the Ashanti king, on another one of those bus trips that feel like forever-and -a -day. We took this trip shortly after our first bout of the traveler’s tummy bug. The night before I had my head out of our little tent in the middle of the night during a typical tropical downpour and electric storm, regretting the chicken curry I had had that evening. So quite coincidently, whiles we were on the bus, Emmylou and I watched the same gentleman sitting in front of us disembark and buy himself a meat (?) kebab at a sidewalk stall. When he boarded the bus again, both Emmylou and I thought how delicious the food smelled and envied this man for having a true Ghanaian stomach, tough enough to take any kind of meat you could throw at him, and secretly wished we too could enjoy a tasty warm morsel. Not mentioning these thoughts to one another, we sat back, took some bites of our

cold rice hoping that our tender stomachs could at least handle that. Our envy was not to last, however, when the gentleman fell truly ill just a few minutes later. So we are sticking to rice baby!

We did our first film shoot in Kumasi and interviewed the Director of the Centre for National Culture. We were also afforded the most interesting experience of going to a chief’s funeral and seeing the embalmed three month old body lying in full chief regalia and make –up. We danced around the body with the fellow mourners. I don’t know if the mourners were in greater shock or us! In all honesty, as amateur filmmakers we have a lot to learn. We are struggling to whip out the video camera and start shooting, “cinema verite” style in the market place! It feels voyeuristic and imposing. Each time we want to film, we have to carefully orchestrate the scene, get permission from all the relevant parties and participants.

So that brings us to the end of our Ghana experience and I agree, “ So far so good”. We are now heading for Francophone West Africa and our first stop is Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso. So here is to French keyboards and hopefully to a couple of croissants along the way!