travel days two and three

We woke up Saturday morning with ambition to climb the lower and upper Wli falls. Wli is about a 30-minute tro-tro ride from Hohoe, but the thing about tro-tros is that you have to wait until one fills up before it leaves. There is no set departure time so sometimes it takes quite awhile to get somewhere.

this is a really bad tro-tro

We waited for about half an hour before we left for Wli. When we approached the tro-tro after paying our fare (1 ghana cedi), the very backseat of the van was facing outwards like in old Volvo station wagons. Andi, Heather, Grace and I screamed in delight when we realized we were going to be able to sit backwards! I remember being young and wishing so bad that my mom would buy a Volvo JUST so my sister and I could sit backwards; it was so different, new and exciting! Our own little space in the back of a car! Our excitement really confused the Ghanaians, and as the driver went to turn the seat back around to its normal position, we urgently stopped him. The four of us piled into the van, sitting backwards facing the market. Ghanaians laughed at us as they walked by and were so confused as to why we were so excited to sit the wrong way. I get the feeling a lot of times that Ghanaians see us as children, unaware of cultural customs and often breaking taboos. But we are earnest and well-intentioned so they just laugh, half amused at us and half embarrassed by us.

SO excited

We arrived at Wli, and went straight to the tourist center where we paid to visit the falls and climb the upper part, which required a guide. Alex was pretty excited that he got to lead four obrunis through the rainforest, and he stopped often to show us native plants and animals- there were colorful butterflies everywhere! As we neared the lower falls, we could hear the roar of the water. After a 40-minute walk, Alex signaled the turn off point to the steep upper falls hike. We changed from flip-flops into tennis shoes when we saw the narrow vertical trail and proceeded with enthusiasm and determination. It’s pretty safe to say that it was the HARDEST hike I have ever attempted in my LIFE! The trail was barely wide enough for one person and so steep that Alex outfitted all of us with long, smooth walking sticks to keep us from falling backwards down the mountain. Just to make us feel even more inadequate, Alex sprinted up the hill in long jeans and cheap sandals. As we panted up the overgrown trail, we tried to justify our slow progress: it was late in the day, we hadn’t eaten since breakfast, we are white?? Finally Andi and I fell so far behind and were so delirious with laughter that the other three had to stop and wait for us. We emerged from the green brush, sweaty and crying from laughing so hard, and Alex promptly informed us that he didn’t think the two of us “were fit to continue the hike”.
Cool, thanks, Alex.
Anyways we all agreed we would all be much happier swimming in the lower falls’ pool and taking pictures of how small we looked against the backdrop of the tall waterfall, so we somewhat reluctantly turned around and practically slid down the mountain as the rain came down. The canopy of trees completely protected us from the water.


Wli Falls


That night at dinner we decided that since we were so close to the Togo border (Wli is a border town), we should go there for the day. The next morning, we packed our things and took a taxi to the border, which consisted of a set of mud-walled houses painted bright colors on the Ghana side and two wooden posts with a string tied between them to indicate the physical border. We walked into the most populated office, weighed down by all our backpacks, to five doubtful looking Ghanaian immigration officials. We earnestly explained our desire to visit Togo for the day, and all simultaneously spit information at them about how we were students at the University of Ghana, from California, trying to impress them with a few Twi words, our Ghanaian names, dances, anything that would help us convince these straightlaced officials. They erupted into laughter and played our game with us, quizzing us on aspects of Ghanaian culture and indulging our showy performance before solemnly telling us that without passports we were definitely not going to Togo. We explained the problem: the US Embassy has our passports because they are in the process of granting us a six-month Multiple Entry Visa, and we did not have our passports back yet. I was pretty sure at this point that there was no way they were letting us into Togo. Finally after some begging, one officer got his superior, who summoned the “leader” to speak with him in his office (the other room of the office, separated from the main room by a lacy, mangled curtain). We pushed Andi into the other room, trusting her ability to charm almost any Ghanaian with her candid humor. Heather, Grace and I kept our conversation alive with the other officers, learning that some of them went to college and studied Political science, and that others had been trained and employed by the army and were placed at the border for a few years. Andi emerged from the curtain triumphant, later telling us that the man wasn’t really allowed to let us into Togo without passports, and that it would cost us 10 cedis each, which we gladly paid. He asked Andi leading questions like, “So, I hear you’re a student. Are you doing some kind of project in Togo?” (raises eyebrows meaningfully) To which Andi answered, “Ahhhh, yes, we are all students studying the cultural differences between Ghana and Togo.” (raises eyebrows back at him) We were to be smuggled into Togo! We would meet the “secrecy service” at the Togo border and we were not to speak, just smile and pretend we were visiting our friend in Ghana, who wanted to show us Togo.

Finally, we passed over the string border and into No Man’s Land! The four of us followed our assigned immigration officer, Mawuli, like little ducks. We trailed behind him excitedly, half expecting some kind of sign that we were about to cross into another country- like a time warp, or a ceremony at least. There was nothing of the sort- just a normal looking man on a motorcycle who shook our hands and welcomed us into Togo under another string border. Togo is absolutely beautiful. Just like the Volta Region of Ghana, it is green, lush and humid. It’s really a part of the Volta Region, but arbitrary European borders made it a different country. At the border there was a village with thatched roof huts, people sitting outside cooking and waving at us, and children staring at us. There were goats, turkeys, chickens and roosters everywhere making various noises. The rainy climate creates a golden, healthy glow over everything. Most people in Togo speak Ewe, the native language also spoken in the Volta Region, but they also speak French! It was the coolest thing to converse with the people in French- it really made me feel like I was in a different place, whereas in Ghana we speak English all the time. We walked through two more picturesque villages, all with equally beautiful scenery and people.



We stopped at the third village, called Yikpa Dzigbe, which was the busiest. All the kids followed us in a trail, begging us to take pictures of them. The adults wanted to talk to us- to tell us the history of their lives and their village. One man, Sylvanus, offered to take us on a hike up the nearby mountain, promising an amazing view of Togo and Ghana at the top. Given our previous hiking performance, we were hesitant but he promised it was short so we said ok. We all trailed through the village to the trail- Sylvanus with his three year old daughter on his back, Mawuli, another man from the village, his two sons, and us four, in rainbow sandals, skirts and carrying our purses. They led us straight up- it was really steep so of course Andi and I brought up the rear, panting and laughing uncontrollably, causing Mawuli to turn around frequently and say, “I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” which just made me laugh harder. Our cosmopolitan group finally reached the top, and it was SO worth it. There was green as far as I could see, villages interspersed with the greenery, and on all sides we were surrounded by massive, majestic mountains. Then we saw the rain. It came towards us like a thick sheet, advancing quickly, so we turned around and started back down the mountain. The rain hit hard, pouring and monsooning, completely drenching all of us. It was definitely harder than any shower pressure I have experienced thus far in Ghana. And just when I thought the rain would let up, it would pelt down even harder as we slipped down the mountain in the mud. It was so much fun, traipsing down this crazy steep mudslide by a crazy barefooted village man, all of us trying to get down together.

We finally reached the village, and were met by screaming children welcoming us back and celebrating the obrunis’ triumphant survival. Sylvanus led us to his modest hut, where he presented us with towels and insisted that he help us wash the mud off our clothes and let them dry for a little while. In the meantime, we asked Sylvanus about his life- his mother is Ghanaian, his father Togolese, so he is a citizen of both places. He prefers Ghana because of their advanced democracy and modernization. Togo still has some problems with democracy to work out. He told us about his religion, that he is Christian and is not appalled when we told him we are not exactly religious as most Ghanaians do. Instead, he assured us that “God is in your heart” and that you don’t need a church to believe. He believes that his ancestors are always present, and that certain aspects of them can be reincarnated in young children. After the rain finally slowed down, Sylvanus made us promise we would all meet again someday, and we exchanged contact information. Walking back to Ghana was even more beautiful in the late afternoon post-rain sun shining on everything glazed with rainwater. Again, we had a parade to see us off back across the border. We were all tired but really happy.

We crossed back over the border to Ghana, and Mawuli took us to a nearby lodge run by a German couple- the Waterfall lodge, only 250 m from the tourist center. The four of us were shown to a four-bed rotund yurt-like hut, which we were ecstatic about. We said goodbye to Mawuli, thanked him endlessly for being our protector and hanging out with us for the day, and insisted that he visit us whenever he comes to Accra.

It was the most amazing experience I have had thus far in Ghana, and one of my favorite memories of my life. I love the humanity of it all, of meeting people at random and feeling so welcome, of forging unlikely friendships with people so different from yourself, and of the exquisite and humble beauty of rural Africa.

As we were driving back to Accra yesterday, leaving the green, I remembered a quote from the movie American Beauty: “its hard to stay mad when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once and it’s too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst. And then I remember to relax and stop trying to hold onto it. And then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid life.” That’s how I felt in Togo. It was so simplistically beautiful, and I felt I could not take enough pictures to do it justice. I wanted to remember it, to cement it into my mind and was panicked when I couldn’t. When I relaxed and just enjoyed the day and felt humbled, happy and fulfilled, I knew that I had.

traveling the volta: day one

five-day weekends mean one thing in ghana: travel. this time, andi, heather, grace and i set off on thursday afternoon for the eastern Volta region, named for its proximity to the Volta River. We took a tro-tro there, arrived at 9 pm at Taste Lodge in Hohoe (pronounced ho-hoy)where a seemingly friendly family got us situated into two rooms. The next morning, during breakfast, the large and somewhat intimidating mother/owner/manageress sat down with us at our table and asked when we were planning on leaving. we told her we intended to stay two nights, and she said, "well, that's going to be a problem." it turns out even though we had reserved two rooms for two nights she had more important guests coming who needed our rooms and we needed to leave within half an hour.
WHAT??
We were a little shocked and then a little angry but we couldn't really do anything except agree to leave. It didn't help that she kept saying "I feel so so sorry" with a huge grin on her face. So as we were leaving we left a cracker on the bed, took the soap and purposely didn't put the pillows back inside just to show taste lodge that we were not happy that they were kicking us out.
so, the four of us started down the dirt road of Hohoe, homeless and annoyed, in search of a new hotel. we found the grand, which was more central, nicer and cheaper. score.
we took a tro-tro to the nearby small town of kpando in search of a women's pottery co-op we had read about in our ghana guidebook. from kpando, we took a taxi 5 minutes to a village called Fesi. The best thing about the Volta Region is how amazingly green everything is! All the plants look so healthy from the rain and the green color is unlike any I have ever seen before. The village was the first real village I have been to- it had thatched roof mud huts surrounded by green, tangled trees and children ran around excitedly as we arrived. We walked through the maze of huts to a clearing where a woman and three children were sitting. We asked them where the potters were, and the mother motioned for her three-year old daughter to show us the way. it was the funniest sight: four 20 year old girls being led down a mossy, green, tropical path by a local toddler. She led us to another clearing where we saw a huge building with a large porch and a smaller hut next to it. There were about five or six women on the porch, smoothing pots, adding designs to them or molding clay to start their next project. their pottery was absolutely beautiful and every piece is one of a kind because they are all hand made by the 30 or so women who work at the co-op. inside the building was a small warehouse featuring all of their handiwork. Their pieces are a beautiful black color, smooth and almost opal from drying in the kiln and in the sunlight. they are all amazingly talented; creating pots, vases, bowls, figurines, beads. there was a peace corps volunteer at the shed who is there teaching the women how to effectively run a small business- how to save their money and make a profit. I talked to one of the women for a while, and she showed me how she does her work- it is so meticulous! It takes her a long time to finish a small tea pot- because there are so many intricate designs on the exterior of the sculpture and also because she has to let it dry in the sun partially, and then fire it in the kiln. it was a great experience, and i loved getting an insight into the lives of these women and the Fesi residents. It painted a very different picture from Accra and I love it!

if you want to learn about culture, raise your hand...

Finally, my schedule is set! After four weeks of classes, my schedule is as follows:

English: Literature of the African Diaspora
taught by a politically correct former Cornell professor, African American woman. Likes to call on people at random to summarize the stories we have read. OF course, she called my name on the first day. Luckily I had read. Studying W.E.B. DuBois (who died in Ghana as a Ghana citizen), Toni Morrison, Zora Neale Hurston, Langston Hughes, Malcom X, etc. Interesting mix of white americans, african americans, europeans and ghanians that makes for fascinating discussions. a ghanaian asked, "why is the color of peoples skin so important in america and is that the only basis for racism?"

Poli Sci: Political Economy of Colonialism
Taught by a lively indian-ghanaian man who talks REALLLY fast! Loves political economy and says it 100 times per class. The class is a mix between him dictating from a polisci book just slow enough for us to copy it down (and everyone does) and discussion and explanation. The concepts range from extremely basic (political economy is the intersection of politics and economics) to really challenging (the radical vs. materialist interpretations for the economic motivations for imperialism...what??)

French: Francophone African Literature
Prof. is a flamboyant, very French ghanaian man who has an accent that is really easy to understand. Our reading list looks great, featuring authors from Cote d'Ivoire, Sierra Leone and Senegal, but so far the class is moving slow. For example, we discussed "what is literature?" for the entire first two hour class and "what are forms of literature" in the second class. things are picking up and that is the only class where group projects are required. I am the only obruni in that class, and everyone is eager to help me figure out where the readings can be picked up and logistics like that.

religion: religion in ghana
fascinating look at traditional african religion and how it morphed into christianity and islam in ghana. great mix of old traditions and explanations of new religious fervency. the teacher is a large old grandpa of a ghanaian man who ends every other sentence with "and so forf".

polisci: ghana from colonialism to independence
the teacher still has yet to show up for a lecture. i do have the syllabus though!

dance
LOVE THIS CLASS! every night when i go i get so energized and am so happy for the rest of the night. we dance and look like total idiots, but it's okay because as oni says, "we will laugh at you, you will laugh at us, and then you will laugh at yourself". we sweat A LOT (100 people in a pretty tight room) and the six-drum-band keeps us going for an hour and a half!

we just returned from cape coast for the afahye festival, which is a traditional festival celebrating the new year. So it was pretty much like new years at home- a HUGE parade with all the chiefs and queen mothers, dancing everywhere, drinking beginning at 10 am, music, parties on the street all night. The chiefs were sitting in couch-like chairs that were so beautifully decorated and the couches were held up in the air on stilts, supported by younger men below. As regal as they looked, the chiefs were still dancing up there in their chairs. At one point, our group had to walk IN the parade to get somewhere and I'm sure we were quite the spectacle. 50 obrunis walking awkwardly as everyone around us danced and had the best time. The old ladies bumped hips with us and the young men grabbed our hands, trying to get us to dance. which we did. it was so much fun and such a cool insight into a really authentically ghanaian experience.

peace and love

Church with Louisa

some kids in Kumasi
There is a woman named Louisa who sells baked goods outside of my dorm. She is somewhat of a celebrity, partly because she is a fixture on the bench, but also because she is very energetic and loves interacting with the students. She makes banana bread, chocolate chip cookies, pineapple pie, mango pie, and tuna pizza. (I’m not quite sure how successful the tuna pizza is…it looks and sounds terrible). She promises that her baked goods are “tantalizing” and that they will help us get A plusses in class. My friends and I started talking to her one night and she told us about her family who lives in the Volta region, her daughter, and her former job as a cook for a rich government family. We got the feeling that she had endured some hard times that caused her fall from that job to selling food independently on a college campus. We talk to her every night that she visits, and she calls us her “sweet ladies” and tells us that she wants to take us to meet her family in the Volta region. One night we asked her if she would take us to her church (she is roman catholic). Her face lit up and she said, “Of course!” So this morning we went to church with Louisa.
We met her outside campus at the tro-tro station. She was wearing a beautiful traditional outfit, made out of traditional African cloth. All of the ladies wear them; it’s a fitted shirt with a matching floor-length skirt. We rode the 35 peswas (comprable to cents) tro-tro to the Christ the King church. There was a mass before ours, so Louisa got busy introducing us to all of her friends who had just finished their service. She paraded us around before and after the service, introducing us to everyone and telling them we were students at Legon. The mass was pretty similar to the other catholic masses I’ve attended in America. There were some different prayers that I did not recognize, but the mass included communion, a sermon and hymns… except African drums accompanied the organ and a choir led the songs.
It’s really interesting to think about how devout many Ghanaians are. The country is about 60% Christian, and EVERYONE goes to church. In America, I feel like a lot of people associate themselves with a religion but rarely go to church (myself included). In Ghana, people actually practice their proclaimed religion. What’s strange to me is how Christianity is so engrained into the culture here. It’s not a traditional African religion, and I know that colonizers worked hard to convert the Ghanaians, but I would think that some elements of traditional religions would be apparent. This is not the case at all. Western customs of religion are so weaved into the culture.
After church, Louisa invited us to her sister Eugenia’s house for lunch. We all got back on a tro-tro and headed to her sister’s home. Mid-ride, Eugenia called Louisa and told her that she actually could not have us over for lunch because she had to go to a wedding. Just like that, she left for the wedding. (Another example of the casual nature of the culture). So Louisa called the other sister, Kate, who was happy to have us over. We took two tro-tros and walked through unmarked roads to finally arrive at her sister’s house. The house was very nice, with ceiling fans, a television, running water and a full kitchen, similar to an American home. Kate is a seamstress and her husband (whose name I could not understand) is an accountant who travels frequently to the UK. They have three children- two boys and one girl. Even though the family had already eaten lunch, they wasted no time getting our lunch ready. They made us fried plaintains, a salsa-like red sauce, and an entire fish each. The fish still had all the skin on it, complete with eyeballs and a tail. It was soo good. The entire time we were there, the family was so hospitable and welcoming. The husband chatted with us about politics, telling us how much he loves President Obama because he’s a “man of the people”. He told us about plans to modernize Accra roads (many of which are VERY bumpy and unpaved), including an overpass that they are building in front of the university. When we left, Kate offered to have us back any time to have her make us a dress, and the husband reinforced her invitation by saying, “you sisters are welcome to our home any time”. Their hospitality really touched me. They did not know us at all, and it must have been a little strange having three obrunis come into their house to be fed. We were so appreciative of how welcome they made us feel. It was a really wonderful experience.
School is interesting. A lot of the lectures are really basic material, like for my polisci classes we are discussing motivations for colonialism, and that can be frustrating. I have a great English class, though, and it's really fun being in class with Ghanaians and other international students. As for entertainment, my friends and I have to be pretty creative when it comes to fun things to do during the week. We try out lots of new restaurants, have movie nights in our dorm rooms, and play cards. it kind of reminds me of camping in a way- there is not a whole lot to do, but we always have fun. On weekends, there is great nightlife in Accra! The bars and clubs are really fun.

Classes are in full swing and our EAP group is going to cape coast this weekend for the Panfest! I'll be celebrating my birthday on the bus.