TOGO 2 BENIN

14 -17 April 2011

KARA, Togo and Codhani

Long bus ride up to Kara, in the Kabye Region but soon enough I’m on the back of another moto zooming about town looking for a room. I try one place but only 1 room for 1 night and I can’t be bothered moving so head over to stay at La Douceur for a couple of nights. Very nice place and very comfy, especially after today’s eight hour bus ride. Not a lot here in town, more a jumping off point for the area. Next morning I chat with Bettina, a German woman who has been here in Togo for many years on and off working in the social sector for the German Corporation and now here in town for a disability conference! Bettina invites me to attend their conference for morning tea to meet up with the Codhani staff, where I had planned to travel the next day. As far as I’ve seen social services are not high on anyone’s agenda here in West Africa, so I’m very curious to listen to the participants. I also meet Franz who knows Miriam and Salah – I ask him to pass on my regards and also give voice to my lack of understanding of the place… I meet with the Codhani bosses who take my number and tell me to call when I arrive tomorrow. They even want to know if I’d like them to get staff in to work to show me how it all operates – I tell them to leave them to enjoy their weekend. I’m happy just to patronise their accommodation and check out the shop. Next day I head off in the bush taxi north to Codhani, which is just south of Niamtougou. I am soon met and shown a hut to stay in, although the staff seem a little reluctant to produce the bathroom key – later, later. I check out the shop and meet a bloke who recognises me from the Girl Guide function in Lome last Sunday. Small, small world! I get the full royal tour of Codhani which provides an accessible workplace for many people with disabilities, producing tie dyed and batik fabrics by folk who would otherwise be unemployed and begging somewhere. I organise for a moto rider to take me out to Koutammakou otherwise known as the Tamberna Valley named after the collection of fortress like mud houses, founded in the 17^th century by people fleeing the slave grabbing forays of Benin’s Dahomeyan kings. A great ride over the hills to arrive at a police post where aggressive money demands are made. They want the equivalent of $25 which will go directly into their very deep pockets as I am still expected to pay for the villages I visit and give gifts (money) to the village chiefs. 

My moto driver is unimpressed and I tell the ‘police’ that I won’t visit today but will pass through tomorrow on my way to Nadoba and the frontier. Oh, you will still have to pay they say… very grabby and very dispiriting. Not a red hot CFA do the villagers ever see of the money being collected here. I still refuse to pay so its back over the hills and I return to my hut to unpack and realise that the room is actually quite grubby and when I am shown the bathroom, it’s an ensuite to another room and the shower doesn’t work. OK, let’s get Adele onto this – she actually quite pissed that I want anything. After much waiting I return to the restaurant to find her serving people so I remind her that she is meant to be looking for the key to the other bathroom. With a disdainful look Adele finds the key and opens another dirty room. Wait until I clean it, she says… OMG I am gathering that when the bosses depart the able bodied staff are running this place into the ground. Lights in this room are not working – later says Adele. I am so OVER Adele that I tantrum to get my room cleaned as well, NOW PLEASE. Finally my room is cleaned, I get a shower in a grubby bathroom (later says Adele) and I am thinking that I want to be anywhere other than here. But the village is nice and it is on the road to the border etc etc. Dinner time – what do you have? Rice. Anything else? Tomato sauce. I remain unimpressed and decide to drink beer for dinner. They chase patrons away by 7pm to close up and I remain alone here except for the 3 folk with disabilities sleeping in the dirt outside! Hmmmmm Sunday morning cannot come quick enough and I pack to be gone by 7am. Only to wait 30 minutes for the first moto to stop and get a ride to Niamtougou where I’ve been told I can get transport through Nadaba and over the border to Benin. Now I find out that THAT transport doesn’t leave until the market is finished this afternoon. I meet my moto driver from yesterday, who offers me an alternative route to Natitingou where I am ultimately headed but I turn him down on the basis that I have to go through the frontier to ‘get the stamps’ or else there will be problems when I exit to Nigeria next week. So I sit & wait for the fabled ‘Nati’ transport to turn up in the salubrious surrounds of a small town’s lorry park. Eventually a mini bus arrives packed to the hilt from Benin, unloads and now we wait to collect enough passengers to head off. After several hours it does and we’re underway by 3pm. We arrive at the police post, where the driver chats to the blokes and we pass by – but you just have to imagine the look on the face of the same bloke from yesterday as we head on through and he sees me in the van!! PRICELESS!! They start yelling, but our driver is not hearing them but within 10 minutes we are overtaken by a motorbike with two riders who block the road and pull us over. It’s the police chasing their 10K CFA. Much discussion follows with lots of references to le blanc and the passengers are a little confused – they never pay money to cross these hills but the police maintain that I should pay and the driver understands that if I have to pay, they will too as we are all travelling together! I sit quietly in the van and the driver is great as he and humours the blokes along, maintaining that it’s ok, no need to pay today and eventually pays them off with a baguette, laughing: no 10k CFA today for them again today and they are not very happy BUT I am! Up and over the hills some more on a good dirt road – The actual distance is only 95kms from  Niamtougou through Nadaba (Togo) and Boukoumbe ((Benin) but it is slow going as the van is so heavily loaded with everyone’s goodies from the market. At one hill we all get out to walk because the van is just not up to the effort. But the scenery is lovely, with lots of the Taberma compounds to see. These houses were very effective at warding off enemies including the germans in the 19^th century due to the style of construction which has a single entry point used to trap and attack invaders. The compounds are built without tools using only wood, clay and straw and waterproofed with a mixture of cow dung and sand! And of course the requisite fetish shrine out the front and lovely huge, old boabab trees dotting the countryside.

Eventually around 7pm I realise we’re in Benin and no Frontiere in sight. I’m not too worried about the Togo exit stamp; it’s the Benin entry stamp that will cause me problems at the next border if it’s missing. I can feel in my bones that I am going to regret having taken the road less travelled over the next few days. Time to start asking questions in very poor french - Natitingou, everyone says, so when we do eventually arrive in Natitingou around 9pm I get a zem (moto) straight to the police station there to try and get a Benin entry stamp. I doubt if they could have expressed any less interest and told me I should go to Porga, the northern frontier with Burkina Faso.  OK off on the zem to the 7E auberge – full. Try the Auberge le Montagna – full. Who is filling all these rooms? We head to Le Vieux Cavalier – yes they have a room and some dinner. Alas no water and my purifier is on the blink (probably batteries) but a kind kid there offers to go the nearby store to get me a bottle of water – cold, sparkling mineral water – what a treat! Go Benin!

FACT: I am a sucker for anyone who personally produces anything as opposed to mass production, especially when they are trying to create an income for themselves because they are a marginalised woman or a person with a disability… I have sent so much stuff home now because I have so little room in my bag. I am hoping this trend will wear thin very soon, unlike their gorgeous textiles, tie dye, batik, weaving etc. J

LOME, TOGO 2

11 -13 April 2011

LOME, TOGO 2

The one fishing net

The Catch

A Scotsman in Aneh

Lome is not home to many sights of note, so I sit about getting online and spend the afternoon over at the beach watching the fisherman co-opt others to haul in their nets for payment in kind. And of course this leads to much discussion, argument and disappointment of hungry men. I am befriended by a journalist – however he is unemployed and has no money – perhaps he is a journalist in his dreams? I want to have a beer at one of the beachside bars but I’m not too willing to court much more of his attention so I feign weariness and head back to the hotel for the evening. I am not very good at telling someone nicely to go away!!! I hear back from Miriam and Salah, who ask for some balls and pencils for the kids. I head to the market next morning, manage to purchase 4 soccer balls and many sets of coloured pencils. Getting the taxi is also easy and soon enough I get to the orphanage following Miriam’s instructions. OMG –no shortage of children here – at least 70 or 80 – with a lot of them at school there are still at least 30 preschoolers and 5 tiny babies of varying health.
Lunchtime is a little like Lord of the Flies with the kids only responding to threats of being hit from the local staff. However at least they are now sitting under a shelter (recently built) to eat, away from where they play. And they do respond to the routines of getting undressed to eat, finishing eating, taking their bowl, getting wiped down (rice from top to bottom, literally!), getting a drink of water and then finding clothes and shoes again to be dressed! After all this we 3 head out to lunch at a nice place that is where Lake Aneho meets the sea. They talk a lot about the problems at the orphanage that they are encountering, and I have to say I take it some of it with a grain of salt until we return and I actually take note of what is going around us. Yes there is one staff asleep all day because she is suffering malaria – thank you for bring that to the orphanage. The vollies had talked about the nun being corrupt – she receives money from both swiss and german organisations, but does not tell either one about the other. Medicines are donated and soon sold at the local market. Now monies are paid directly to the builders and the association is trying to install a ‘manager’. I see the nun has her own rooms separate from the children, and this includes having her own cook! Two women are employed specifically to wash clothes all day, every day rather than use the donated washing machine which sits dusty in a corner. I’m sure they’d be better employed caring for some of the children? The babies are all fed the same amount of formula and water as the local staff feel that they should all get the same rather than follow the preparation directions according to age. Then there an absurd ritual of bathing the babies and children aged up two years of age, twice a day that is akin to giving them enemas with very hot water leaving the children screaming. The vollies cannot understand this practice and when I witness I am astounded – it is akin to cruelty with absolutely no reasoning behind it. I get upset, asking why they are doing this – the woman doing it says it is because they are African and because I am white I cannot understand! WHAT COSWALLOP. I have since discovered that it is a ‘togolese’ practice that may have originated as a treatment for worms – but twice a day, every day it has certainly transgressed into something very peculiar. I leave later in the afternoon, to walk back down the road to the highway, very disturbed by my visit and reaction to that orphanage. But I really acknowledge Miriam and Salah’s commitment and their tact and sensitivity in working there for the kids. As soon as I reach the highway, a vision in lycra appears in front of me – a middle aged bloke riding a bike, flying the St Andrews flag. He pulls over immediately upon seeing me and quickly crosses the road – I ask him what he’s doing here – he replies that honestly at the moment he has no idea! lol we head to a bar for a beer – him to recover some enthusiasm and check town maps and me to normalise some of what I’ve just witnessed today at the orphanage. This bloke takes a few weeks every month or so and picks a couple of countries to cycle through. This time it’s Ghana, Togo & Benin. It was really lovely talking with him; we took photos and parted ways. I returned back to Lome accompanied by arguments as locals yelled at the driver who wanted to overcharge me!

Fabulous Dutch wax fabrics

Another day I visit Lome’s Marche de Feticheurs (Fetish or traditional market) – a lot of skulls, skins and bones of recognised and other who knows what. If you are ill, want to wish ill luck or get good luck then you visit the Fetish priest who will prescribe what is needed for him to make the cure or voodoo. Then you visit the fetish market with your shopping list of requirements. I don’t want to pay extra to go beyond doors of the stalls – I am really just curious to take note that although there are many, many stalls with much for sale, as the Togolese retain their animist beliefs and fetishes are ‘an integral part of local culture’ but as usual there seems to be a distinct lack of customers here, including me.

My new boubou

I visit the Togo Girl Guides National Team meeting; present them with our Australian Centenary coin and badges while they in turn present me with a fab boubou and Girl Guide t shirt. More photos, singing and farewells as I zoom off on another moto to pack my bag ready to head north tomorrow on a Rakieta bus, a reputable company with a daily departure to Kara and booked seats!

FACT: Polygamy is still rife here in Togo with the old president having numerous wives. To counteract Togo’s lack of size, lack of trade and lack of progress the government encourages nationalism. Unequivocally Lome looks akin to a huge slum, with many empty or ruined buildings that is reminiscent of Beirut but they had a civil war for years that ruined their city. hmmmm

LOME, TOGO

9/10 April 2011
LOME, TOGO

I reluctantly leave the monastery on Saturday because its market day and this means there will be plenty of transport as the Monastery and nearby village, Dzogbegan are very isolated. I wait at the main road and within 5 minutes I’m collected by a young moto rider. I am reluctant to let this transport pass and he assures me he’ll ride carefully. Not too far out of the first village a taxi overtakes us, calling ‘Kpalime’ – and I signal to the affirmative. The taxi stops, there is one space free (or is that ½ a seat?), my pack gets transferred to the boot and I’m driven direct to Kpalime. The lorry station has plenty of transport direct to Lome, and while it fills I get my breakfast – the requisite omelette in a crusty baguette. But here in Togo, it also includes an extra accompaniment of mashed avocado which are in season and in great abundance here. Mmmmm I also give Terry a quick phone call to wish him a Happy Birthday today!
3 hours later, we arrive in Lome, at a petrol station and then it’s back on a moto down to the burbs to stay at Le Galion in Kodjoviakope which had a very handy location, great restaurant and free wi-fi. I miss the National Commissioner of Girl Guides Togo, Justine Lacle as I’ve headed out to see the Musee International du Golfe de Guinea – an amazing private collection opened to the public (at a small charge) in the name of philanthropy! And what a collection it is, much of it dated prior to colonisation – even the Ashanti bronzes look fab, and they were something I didn’t really like in Kumasi, Ghana. I also call in at a private art gallery to talk to the owner about her experiences in Nigeria – she says “don’t go, you will die there!” Hmm not very encouraging but her experiences are limited to business with artists and perhaps if I can raise an answer from the Nigerian Girl Guides I can stay with them and hopefully be safe in Lagos. On my return to Le Galion I telephone Justine who returns to invite me join with them tomorrow as they celebrate their Centenary. I am very happy to join them and Sunday morning passes in a whirl. Both Guide units are meeting in church grounds. The first units are setting up for a ‘fete’ and after a slow beginning it becomes very popular and tickets to the various activities quickly sell out. For a very small charge you can try a lucky envelope or your skill at various small games – one such game was lighting seven candles from one match. Not easy as it’s all outside but most were up to the challenge and determined to win that lollipop. Another activity station, helped out by the Scouts was a tyre partly buried that become a mini goal for aspiring soccer players – this one was very popular with serious young men although very difficult. Soon enough the crowds headed home, photos taken and someone turned up with icy cold bissap juice for us. Mmmm We then take a taxi back nearer town to visit the Casablanca Guides who are blessed by the priest with much drumming, singing and clapping. Then we all take turns joining in and although everyone is very entertained whenever I do join in I can’t help but feel terribly gauche compared to these wonderful, talented and gorgeous young women. A lot of laughter, clapping and singing, more photos then back into a taxi with Justine (Chief Commissioner) and Yvette (deputy Chief Commissioner) for lunch at the Belle de Lome. We make arrangements to meet again when Justine is meeting with her National Team on Wednesday night making my stay in Lome 5 nights – a tad too long but what the heck. This decision came back to haunt me when I finally looked at my visa dates asI realised it was cutting mighty fine to get to Nigeria..

FACT: I have taken notice that whenever I think that something may be difficult to do, it turns out to be easy for whatever reason, be it people’s kindness, the planets aligning or just plain good luck. An example is getting back to Kpalime from the Monastery which was going to be potentially difficult due to its isolation and lack of transport but turned out so easy. On other days when I try to accomplish something that sounds easy, like visiting a gallery or museum it turns into a grand saga. For example, in Lome when I engaged a moto rider to take me to the Musee International de Golfe de Guinee for an agreed price he got lost, stopped for directions 3 times and then wanted to double our agreed price BECAUSE he got lost making the travel a long way so it all turns pear shaped with arguments at the gallery door. I maintained that if you don’t know what I am talking about or don’t know where I want to go, then don’t take the fare! Gallery staff intervene, agree with me and thus there is more arguing, all over a paltry 100cfa! In the end I pay him but this makes a 2nd altercation with transport blokes on my first day in Lome after a taxi who agreed he was a taxi partage suddenly becomes a drop taxi just because it’s the weekend. NOT Or another day when I ‘tried’ to visit the Musee National, hidden behind their Palais des Congress, two security guards ‘guarding’ together understood where I wanted to go and both pointed in opposite directions to direct me. Then when I had literally circled the huge building, I found the museum unattended but with doors open. OK this is Africa so I go in and will get the ticket later. 15 minutes later, NO that is not what an enraged bloke shaking a book of tickets at me thinks. He is mighty annoyed that I had dared enter HIS museum without buying a ticket. As I head back to the desk to pay, I ask where he was when I arrived to which he gets even madder. OK I then matched his attitude and asked who he was because he is dressed only in a singlet and trousers, no uniform or ID – perhaps he has been asleep? Again the yelling and ticket book waving so I tell him I’m finished and try to leave. This escalates our disagreement because now he is not going to get any money. So I have this rather large, angry, african man blocking my way out of the museum demanding I buy a ticket with me yelling back in terrible french. By now we’ve attracted some attention, but not from his minions who are hiding around the corner outside (who by the way, pointed me in, in the first place). But at least a security guard discourages this bloke from continuing – he maintains I am mad, I maintain he is a dickhead and we part ways yelling at each other!! Bye the bye from what I saw it was a very poorly maintained museum with any information all in french! BAH!

TOGO - Country Number 7 – TOGO

4-8 April 2011

TOGO - Country Number 7 – TOGO

Kpalime and thereabouts

Lome beachfront

Well this was the quietest frontier I have ever crossed but even so, it still took us 3 hours to travel the 35kms from Ho, Ghana to Kpalime in Togo. The road was a shocker both sides – Ghanaian side due to being reconstructed and Togolese side due to general neglect. But the countryside is nice with is nice with forested hills of cocoa and coffee. Kpalime has a relaxed feel and I spend the evening chatting to a couple of German volunteers who are working at an orphanage in Aneho and invite me to visit them if I have time. They claim they’re happy to meet someone who speaks worse French than they do –hey I’m a bit rusty after a month, but I’m sure I’ll improve? J There is a bit of pressure here at Hotel Bafana Bafana where we are all staying to ‘take a guide’ for mountain hikes etc. All sounds too familiar to me and the nearby mountains are the same range that I was staying at on the Ghana side, so I chat to one guy to try & find out about visiting a nearby monastery that sounds interesting and unique. He claims I will need a guide because “the monks won’t talk to you”, which sounds a bit trite so I dismiss the need for a guide and use the next day to change over my phone’s sim card and exchange the last of my Ghanaian cedi into West African CFAs. As I wander about the market I’m back to the continual demands of vous allez (where are you going) and men wearing gumboots and carrying machetes – local farmers going to work on their lands. 

Wednesday I walk down the hill headed for the lorry station to travel up to the plateau where the monastery is located and when I reply to the vous allez, the bloke immediately hails a ‘taxi partage’ for me! So within 5 minutes of leaving the hostel, I’m on my way – some things are just unbelievably easy (and other unbelievably hard)! Soon enough we get to Adeta, where I ascertain that there is still another 33 kms to travel and I decide that I don’t want to do it on the back of a motorbike. So I get directed to a car, one bloke starts yelling at another, then I have to follow the yelling bloke – apparently he has a car waiting. We’re off again, and when I see the route we take I am oh so glad I didn’t take a moto as we are heading up, up, up along a bad road wide enough for one car only. Then I’m deposited at the end of a driveway, literally at the front door of the monastery, the Abbaye de L’Ascension for Bendictine monks with a cheery bon arrivee! Soon enough I have a great room, self-contained with louvered windows looking out at greenery and trees. With a mild climate up this high on the plateau there are even ‘blanket square’ blankets on the beds that are actually needed at night! The church, which celebrated its 50^th anniversary this year, is built from local mahogany, teak and stone and instead of windows, it has massive screens made of bamboo & timber that pivot out, perfect for admiring the view. It has a stone bell tower used regularly throughout the day to signal the various events such as Laudes, Vepres, Vigiles and of course mealtime (very important!). Then there are the monks – nearly thirty in all, dressed in cowled or hooded robes, they ‘sing’ their prayers which is absolutely sublime to hear, accompanied by kora, harpsichord, birdsong and insect chatter. The monks live totally separate from the visitors and in conjunction with the Benedictine Nuns’ monastery a couple of kilometres away, they work creating wooden artifacts, baking biscuits, making jams, packaging their local coffee and the Sisters even sell fresh yoghurt! There are quite a few Togolese here on retreat and it is requested that visitors keep silence. So it is almost coincidental that I pass Linda’s 30^th birthday here, in this contemplative quiet to consider my ageing grief and guilt over her death almost 12 years ago. Walking the roads early in the mornings here is gorgeous with children running out to wave hello but alas I make most of the small babies wail in fright! The monks cook all the food here which is very simple – although I was asked if I could eat ‘african’ food and even though I indicated to the positive I was still served a special dish of mashed potato when everyone else got yam & plantain. Herein all I spend 3 glorious nights here before heading south to Togo’s capital, Lome.

FACT: Togo, previously called Togoville, then Togoland by the german colonisers was split by the League of Nations after WW1. By 1956 British Togoland was incorporated into the Gold Coast (Ghana) and French Togoland gained independence in 1960 and by 1963, modern day Togo became the first African country to have a military coup after independence! Now there’s infamy for you!

HO HO HO and Ho Hoe

1/2/3/4 April 2011

HO and the Volta Region

Easy trip north east to Ho and I spend the afternoon out at a small village, Kpetoe Agotime, renowned throughout Ghana for its quality Kente weaving. It is all very laid back there with a large ‘factory’ of fine, young men weaving away all day! I purchase a small strip, wander about the village and then await another tro tro back to Ho. Tonight there is ‘friendly’ soccer match between Ghana and England, being televised at 6.30. So just for fun I head to a great bar upstairs that catches all the breezes, to watch the match over dinner. England score in the first half and Ghana’s defence work hard all night. Then 5 minutes before the match ends, Ghana’s hero Asamoah Gyane scores an equaliser goal and the bar goes wild – you can hear the shouts and car horns all around town, so happy that they didn’t lose the match! Next day I set off for the Avatime Hills and another small village, Amedzofe to stay for a few days at the Akofa Guesthouse. I‘ve heard it’s nice there and nice is an understatement (Terry I think some of our retirement should be spent here in Amedzofe). At an altitude of 600m it’s cheap, green, and cool at night and villagers couldn’t care less as you wander about. Often the sight of this foreigner is enough to make some small children cry if you go near them! It was originally settled by German missionaries who planted a cross on Mt Gemi, the highest hill here. The guesthouse I’m staying in is perched on the side of a mountain, with access to the kitchen and Georgina here cooks great meals (if a little pricey). But the Chop bar also does simple meals for ½ cedi! It’s getting hard to move on from here, but days are marching on and a quick trip back to Ho to change tro tros to get up to Ho Hoe to visit the Wli waterfalls is the order of the day! Nice easy trips both back to Ho, then onto Ho Hoe – although each trip reminds me why tro tros have such a high road accident rate here. BUT they DON’T break down. I tried the Grand Hotel in Ho Hoe, who are waiting for someone to check out – alas they decided to stay on, so I moved on out to Wli and get a simple ‘homestay’ room. It’s an easy 45 minute walk out to the falls to reach a spectacular sight of the highest falls in West Africa. It is a beautiful sight, cool and luxuriant but then some locals decide for some entertainment they will make a heap of noise to rouse up the bats that reside in the cliffs about the falls. Thousands of bats are not a pretty sight. Chat to some Finnish nurses doing their practical placements in Tamale and after an hour of lazing about with feet dangling in the very cold water I head back to have my evening beer at the Waterfall Lodge – they have a great set up in a beautiful garden with fab views of the upper falls and surrounding hills. Bliss! The sun sets so time to share my cedis around with dinner at the other hotel in town. The thunder and lightening are advancing, and as I pass my homestay Rose calls to me, “the rain is coming”. But I make it to the Water Heights hotel where they are busy clearing the outside verandah in anticipation of the rain. One group gets moved inside, but I ask to stay outside because I just love the spectacle of the warm, heavy storms (from the security of shelter). Good dinner, chat to another group working in Accra and recommend The Lodge to them even if just to see the garden and view from their ingenious chairs there.

Next morning I wander about the two villages either ends of the T junction here, even walking as far as the Togo border, all of 500m away. I contemplated crossing here but I’ve ascertained that transport to Kpalime may be difficult on the other side. So I settle for heading back to Ho where there are easy connections. I try visiting the ‘traditional’ or ‘fetish’ shrine here but at 10 cedis they can keep it to themselves as I’m heading to the home of voodoo next week. Back to Ho that day and the Fiave is full but she takes me to the Lord Hotel which is even better and has a great cheap restaurant as well. One last parcel to post through Ghana’s wonderful and reliable postal service then off to Togo. When taking everything out for customs, the girl exclaims “Ghana Girl Guides” – I ask her if she is a Guide “Yes, I am a Ranger”. From then I got great service, with a smile so Go Girl Guides!

FACT: The Akofa guesthouse at Amedzofe has lots of louvre windows catching the gorgeous FACT: The Amedzofe guesthouse had walls of louvre windows for the wonderful view and breeze. I tied up the curtains each day to open up the view and one evening when I untied them, Georgina expressed surprise at how easy it had been done. It looks so nice she said… I do wonder sometimes about how much thinking goes on here. If you like something wouldn’t you examine it to see how it had been done?? Apparently not here in Ghana..

ACCRA, Ghana 2

10.   31 March 2011

Back to Accra

This time I stay at The Rising Phoenix, right on the beach and very close to the town centre. It’s run by an ex rajneeshi who has posted many ‘deep and meaningful’ stories and thoughts about the place. I also found vego meals available too! Then there are the sullen local staff, the rastas looking to latch on to anyone and the many local (and lovely) young men who practice their gymnastics and dancing each evening either on the outdoor dance floor or down on the beach. Get my WAGGGS card stamped eventually, and can now find my way about Accra easily. I just about trip over the Scout Association’s office but it has a notice forbidding the Commissioner from attending until they have been to court tomorrow! I head over to the Lord Baden Powell hall, where it is being set up for a big Evangelist meeting that night, and get directed to a nearby house where “there are scouts there”. I meet two leaders who explain that their Chief Commissioner’s term was up in 2008, but he won’t step down and hold elections. They were of the opinion that as the hall is regularly leased out to Christians that the current Scout hierarchy was ‘on the take’. They said they had appealed to the Africa Region but were not helped (felt that the CC had paid them off too!). I wished them the best of luck with their court case and the following meeting to be held at the Guide HQ. hmm and there I was hoping to get Kyle a Scouting souvenir and found a ‘hornet’s nest’ of unhappiness there.  

FACT: An anglophone country this may be, but their take on naming a business is quite unique. Here’s just a small random sample of ones I’ve seen:

Virgin Lips Bar (drinking spot)

Modern Brains Academy (private school)

God’s Promises have no expiry date (small grocery store, so perhaps his stock does have an expiry date?)

Patience Quickly (hairdresser for fast and slow braiding?

Holy Spirit Workshop (mechanic)

Helpers of Your Joy (Christian singles club) Singles Mingles Picnic (club event)

If God won’t help who will? (small grocery store)

Chicken Licken (yep, take away chicken)

Madame Rakia All People’s Canteen (or madame’s for short)

Shine Out Electrical Enterprises (really just a shack, but such a grand name)

Rubbish Collection - a first in West Africa

Ghana Girl Guide camp

28-30 March 2011

CAMPING WITH GHANA GIRL GUIDES

Welcome

Janet, Abigail & me

QM

Abigail

I waste a couple of hours awaiting the magic hour of 2.30pm when I’ll try and retrieve my passport. I hail a taxi and not only does he know where the embassy is, he also knows where the Guide Training Centre is AND he agrees to my price. I get my passport straight back with a 30 day Nigerian visa – THANK YOU HEATHER – and soon enough I am deposited in paradise – on the edge of Achimota Forest. Abigail shows me to a lovely room in a block that I’ll be sharing with the Deputy Chief Commissioner. There is a cool breeze blowing and trees all around us here. I get the grand tour and it all looks remarkably familiar with indoor bunk room accommodation for the girls who are arriving soon enough with their mattresses in tow! And soon enough there are the pleas of “please aunty” as girls try to wheedle their way into dorms with their friends. Abigail holds out, even in the face of one parent arguing her daughter’s case for her. She was amazing – If I had even an ounce of her tact I would be a lucky woman! As nearly 40 girls unpack, dinner is cooked for us (as it is all weekend), consumed, then girls head back to their dorms for the regulatory nonstop chatter. Then comes more complaints from girls who only sleep with air conditioning – they can’t possibly sleep with only a fan. And one room complains that their fan is too slow… I do sympathise with them, especially after my experience @ the Salvos the last few nights.  But there you go; there are princesses in Ghana too! Saturday’s program includes rising at 5am to go jogging – what a pity I missed it. Duty chores are completed before breakfast which is tea or milo made up in bulk in eskies, porridge (not very popular), white bread and a fried frankfurt (very popular). Then we gather outside in ‘the Summer House’ to divide into Patrols, name the patrols and make name badges and Patrol posters. The girls vote their PL and 2nder, then it’s time for the ‘training’ – it is a bit like chalk and talk but the girls seem very used to it and respond accordingly. We get the history of Guiding and WAGGGS, interspersed with songs to liven the proceedings up. Lunch is followed by more talk and chalk and then it’s my turn to ‘run a session’. I have been asked twice about what I would like to talk to the girls about – perhaps Girls’ rights? I stick with what I know and get them to mime out instances of volunteering that they have just heard about. Goes ok, so we follow with Guide Laws and a human knot to lead into their next activity, yes you guessed it, knotting. After dinner we head to an outside hall (which has no walls) for the talent contest, of which I was one of 3 judges – this had to be seen to be believed. The dancing would have done any lap dancer proud and the catwalk sashaying was amazing! It was all a little unclear if we were judging an individual ‘Miss Guide’ or a patrol. After much deliberation, patrols were asked to volunteer 2 girls who would have to dance, sing, model and make a meaningful statement about Guiding. Then came the Guiding quiz, and after elimination of 3 patrols we then had 2 patrols equal on points for third, so more questions were thought up trying to eliminate one of them. I kept asking couldn’t we have an equal third, but apparently not. By the end of the evening it was after 11pm and they wanted to award a gift to the youngest Guide on camp, but she was asleep. Not a lot of talking that night after lights out! Sunday saw the usual chores – ever seen children sweeping dirt? – and then packing. After breakfast came Guides Own which was a very Christian affair with much singing, clapping and devout prayer throughout even to the point of girls being chosen and told what they would pray for. They closed camp then and lunch was served.  Gradually girls were picked up and it was surprising that no parents thanked the leaders for their time etc and there were a lot of girls who were not picked up by parents but by drivers, taxis etc. Before leaving Janet kindly gave me a ½ gross of safety pins (left over from last weekend’s activity) to make more flag pins! Because I love the peace here so much I asked to stay an extra night so it’s me and the warden for a lovely quiet evening before heading back to town.

Oops, did anyone read rule 1??

FACT: These Girl Guides exemplified a lot of what could be easily changed here in West Africa. They dumped anything that they no longer had a use for, meaning litter was left everywhere. They would get up from a table and leave water sachets about on the table, on the ground etc. Once I watched an adult leader empty a sachet and then dispose of it on the ground. I really struggled with this, especially as there were plenty of bins about. And on cleaning up, the dorms were really dirty with food scraps and litter all over the floors….. Not a pretty sight but akin to what I see every day here.

Breakfast, come & get it!!