It's Everything I Wish I Didn’t Know

** This was not a particularly easy post to write and I am sure that it won’t be an easy post to read. It’s been a rather depressing few days **

Friday, August 11: Akosombo and Akrade

For the most part, the university has tried to keep us away from the not-so-great aspects of Ghana – and they have done a good job. Sure, we have traveled through bad parts of Accra and Kumasi, but we haven’t seen the really bad stuff. To do that, we need to adventure on our own. And so we did exactly that.

Joe, Joel and I woke up on the early side to get to Akosombo and Akrade (ah-CRA-day), roughly an hour’s drive. Our choice of transportation was a tro-tro from Zongo Station, a taxi’s ride away for Joe and me. We met Joel at the station, where we proceeded to wait more than an hour for a tro-tro. A tro-tro won’t leave a station unless it’s totally filled. Insanity.

Finally, we got going on the way to Akrade. The ride is a beautiful one for the most part; the majority of the countryside of southern Ghana is very lush, especially after the rainy season. About 40 minutes into the ride, we drove through a fairly ordinary town, except for one thing: an excessive number of coffin-making shops. Joel and I counted 5 on one side of the road. This wasn’t like the craft villages in Kumasi – it wasn’t the specialty of the town. The reason for the coffin shops is because that particular town is one where HIV/AIDS is more prevalent. I was informed that the town loses about one person a day to the disease. Unlike many of the crafts in Ghana, this is a town where, sadly, the demand is close to the supply.

A half hour after driving through the town, we arrived in Akrade; this barely qualifies for a town in terms of western standards. We are supposed to meet a friend of Joel’s who works for a local NGO so we can hand over some soccer balls. He was clearly on Ghana time. We didn’t meet him until the afternoon. So we spent our time at a local school. Any time I can spend with the kids here is time well spent for sure. We through around a Frisbee, kicked around a soccer ball, and took lots of pictures – tons of fun. The fun ended abruptly when lunch-time for the kids rolled around.

The kids looked like they were getting fed well – chicken, rice, and soda. I asked if they got fed everyday; I was given a two part response. Firstly, the meal they got today was not of normal size – it was significantly larger. They got a larger lunch because it was the last day of their summer session, a reason for celebration. Secondly, the kids have the option to buy lunch for 1,000 cedis per day – roughly 11 cents. Most of the kids, according to the director of the school, can’t afford this. The ones that can bring lunches do; the ones who can’t don’t eat.

Joe, Joel and I caught a break. We were invited to lunch by a group of obrunis working at the school. We were treated to a first class meal in a first class facility – one with air conditioning, a television with CNN and a bathroom with a full toilet seat. It was really nice to sit down in a cool room and reminisce about the States. The group we ate with was on their way home with days. They all said they would come back to Ghana in a second.

We returned to the school for the afternoon, where we were finally able to drop off the soccer balls. After doing so, the three of us walked down to Akosombo, a town on the River Volta. The city does not have much to speak of – a beautiful, teal-painted mosque and an old, broken-down Methodist church – but the river is beautiful. I would have jumped in if I had a bathing suit.

The tro-tro ride back was longer, due to afternoon traffic. Luckily, I slept most of the way. Exhausted, I stayed in for the night. Another long day lay ahead – going to Cape Coast and Elmina tomorrow. Hopefully, I can fall asleep with all the Christian music blaring outside at midnight.

Saturday, August 12: Cape Coast and Elmina

Sleeping didn’t go so well. Fortunatley, a 4 hour bus-ride to Cape Coast was in my future. Prime napping opportunity.

Today was definitely a different day than all other days. We took two busses at separate times – one with the African-American students and one with the white students. We were all kind of confused by this.

The ride was uneventful, especially since I was asleep for most of it. By noon, we arrived at the Cape Coast castle. Cape Coast was the capital of the Gold Coast and a prime trading center of goods, which included slaves. A tour guide walked us through the same castle that thousands of slaves walked through. I was told by someone who had been before that walking through the castle was like walking through Auschwitz. A few things really stand out in mind.

-- The first was that 200 male slaves were put into a room no bigger than 20 feet by 40 feet. 4 square feet per human. With no place to go to the bathroom and no ventilation. The crying started here for many.

--The second was the “Door of No Return.” After walking through an extensive tunnel, we walked through the door, the last that the slaves saw of the castle. Once a slave walked through the Door of No Return, they were on a ship headed for the Americas.

--The third was the condemnation room. If slaves pushed the buttons of the British, the British threw the slaves into the condemnation room. No food, no water, no ventilation. They were literally left to die. Looking at the floor, we could see the scratch marks from teeth and fingernails where slaves tried to get through. It was truly eerie.

The Elmina fort was a little more time, and much pretty architecturally. Built by the Portuguese, and later sold to the Dutch, the Elmina fort was not as big of a slavery port as Cape Coast. Instead, the fort was used primarily for moving non-human goods. As slavery picked up, though, it was used for slaves as well.

Traffic coming back was outrageous. A multiple car accident all but shut down the roads in Accra. A tro-tro got nailed by 2 cars – I took a picture and some people weren’t thrilled. Oops.

We got back to Legon to discover two things: 1) no running water. Awesome; and 2) our door would not open. Also Awesome. My neighbor and I climbed along the outside of the building to open it from the inside. Still didn’t open. Eventually we all but broke in the door to get in.

Hoping to get some sleep tonight. Going to the refugee camp tomorrow.

Sunday, August 13: Buduburam Refugee Camp

There is no great way to get to Buduburam. It is pretty much in the middle of nowhere. We had to take three tro-tros: Legon to Circle, Circle to Kineshi, Kineshi to Camp via Kasoa. All in all, the trip cost under 12,000 cedis – less than a buck and a half.

We were greeted by some good news.. The four of us – Joe, Joel, Haley and myself – were met Haley’s friend, Vanessa, who happens to be on of my contacts for Africa Aid. Small world. But more importantly, as we walked we noticed a couple trucks being loaded with peoples’ possessions. Vanessa’s friend, Masu, told us that people were going back to Liberia through UNHCR’s new voluntary repatriation program.

Walking through the camp was like walking through any other poor town in Ghana. The living conditions are absolutely horrendous – the worst I’ve seen so far. There were exactly three bathrooms for the camp of 40,000 people. And none of them had toilets – just holes in the ground. There is no running water on the camp and very few people have electricity. For those who do have it, it is very expensive, and only works for two out of every three days.

Sadly, many people don’t believe that AIDS exists – in spite of the signage around the camp – and those who do won’t get tested because of the fear of getting a positive test. The medical service sucks. A doctor comes by every 3 days and three physicians are there daily, on a rotating basis. It makes HMO’s and PPO’s look really good.

Sadder than that, nearly everyone knows about the repatriation program and in an ideal world, they all want to go back, but being realists, they choose to stay. Or they are forced to stay because they don’t have the money to get to Liberia. It’s hard enough to live on a refugee camp, but even harder to pick up and start over again. And many told me that they would rather beg in Ghana or somewhere else than in their home country. One woman, who was waiting to see a nurse, repeated what many people told me: “Who am I going to? Who will welcome me?”

A man I spoke to – Harrison – arrived at Buduburam in 2000 after living in Guinea. He came to join his sister who was already at the camp. He has two children – 7 and 9 years old – who are in Nigeria; he hasn’t seen them since he left Guinea. He has no desire and no means to leave the camp. Any money he has is going to education, but he doesn’t want to leave because he has nothing to go to in Liberia. And nothing is a lot less than what he has in Buduburam.

After roaming around the camp, for a couple hours, we sat down for lunch at a little stand, which happened to have a TV. Within minutes of us sitting down, the Liverpool v. Chelsea football game came on the TV. This was as close to ESPN as I was gonna get. We stuck around for most of the game, until the electricity went out in the 80^th minute. A man very matter-of-factly said of the electricity: “That’s Africa.”

Before leaving, we wandered around the camp a bit more, checking out a church which was being built. Quite the architectural masterpiece, if you ask me. As we walked out, we caught a little bit of a football game going on between who knows who. No grass – just dirt with charcoal lines – for a field. Even on an ugly field, it’s still the beautiful game.

Being at a place like Buduburam really makes me appreciate what I have, even here at the University of Ghana. I don’t think I have ever been so grateful to take a cold shower or go to the bathroom in an actually toilet, even if it was half-broken.

One little note, but with very little significance – I did my first load of hand-washed laundry today. From all I have been told, things don’t get totally dry because of the humidity. As long as I don’t stink, I’ll be happy.

The next post will be full of pictures. I hope you enjoy them, even the heart-breaking ones.

Relaxing for a few days before classes start in a week.

LDG.