Random Observations

I am constantly amazing by Accra. For the past three weekends I have made my way to different parts of the city to explore. When I was preparing to come to Ghana I was repeatedly told that the country was making a real effort to attract tourism dollars. I read that they had good infrastructure and national parks, at least when compared to other African nations. Since I’m not allowed to leave the country until I fly back to Canada, I cannot comment on the rest of Africa. I will keep you posted on the national park situation (look for a post in the New Year about my trip to Africa’s only canopy walk). After almost 6 weeks I can say something about tourism in Accra.

The public transportation system (tro tros and shared taxis) does not lend itself to strangers. The only way to know how to get from point A to B is to ask three people. I believe the justification for the rule of threes is that you’ll get two different answers and then hope that the third agrees with the correct one. Luckily most people are interested in where I’m going and willing to help. It’s like ice skating; falling is scary until you do it. This weekend Joanne and I got instructions on how to get to Jamestown (the historical fishing town within Accra). When we got off the tro tro and asked where the connecting vehicle was we discovered we were in the wrong place. Little did we know that there are different destinations to very similar sounding routes. The combined effort of at least five strangers got us to the right place. Moral of the story is that not knowing where you’re going seems like it would be intimidating until it happens and you survive. Perhaps this is a lesson that every seasoned traveller already learned, but it’s new to me. There are definitely no maps of the system – there are barely any maps of the city. I shouldn’t be surprised when people on the tro tro ask me why I’m not taking a taxi.

Most of the sights that I’ve visited have been quite anticlimactic. The Osu Castle (presidential palace), Jamestown (fishing village), Usshertown (former colonial centre), Independence Square, Kwame Nkumah (first president) Circle, even Makola Market. I get there with some amount of difficulty, I look around, I refrain from taking pictures for fear of having my camera confiscated or stolen, and I leave. This is not to say that there isn’t value in exploring the city. The attraction is more the people and the variety of living/working arrangements. Jamestown could have been exactly the same 50 or 100 years ago yet it’s witnessed so much history and is surrounded by development. Osu Castle is hidden behind a low-income neighbourhood with maximum security. We followed the fence to the beach and accumulated at least 20 miniature body guards to get a look at the modest building. The beach was less palm trees and sunbathers and more piles of garbage and pools of sewage water used for bathing, playing, washing, and probably drinking. I was permitted to enter one building and look around: the National Museum. I felt that it didn’t do a very good job of showcasing the artefacts held, although there was an impressive collection of stools (which made it worth the trip for me). Some old exhibits were pushed to the side (literally) to make way for one on Ghanaian crafts and another on involving youth in traditions. The craft exhibit attempted to comment on the outside influence but often did so with photos of local crafts. I see more authentic pieces at the markets. I can see the value of visitors who doing have the opportunity to leave Accra. There was also some really interesting art for sale in the back of the museum. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not becoming Mel Lastman. I believe that a city can survive without doing everything possible to cater to tourists. It’s unfortunate that there is supposedly an effort being made, especially with the upcoming 50^th anniversary celebrations, yet no results are seen.

On the long weekend I had my first Ghanaian church and swimming experiences. I went to a wedding at the church of a friend from work. She told us to meet her at 11am (the program had a 10am start time). When we arrived she was still at the salon which is really just a woman with a lot of chemicals and a hair drying chair under a canopy behind Joyce’s house. An hour later we made it to the church before the service had started. Church in Ghana is loud and lively. The major differences were multiple musical groups and even more preachers, more of a focus on marriage than the couple, communion was exchanged, and guest dance to the front to give their offerings. On Farmers’ Day I went to a resort just outside of the city. I must admit I’m not sad that people don’t swim in the ocean. There was a mix of locals and foreigners at the pool. Although the place was packed, there was always room in the deep end. Most people have never learned to swim yet love fooling around in the water. It’s quite amusing to watch.

I think I’ll wait for a dedicated post to comment on Ghanaian television.