Adventure and Atonement

Friday, September 29^th – Living the Highlife

It was a rare Friday on campus for me. For the last few weekends, I’ve been leaving on Friday morning, if not earlier. I really didn’t know what to do with myself. So I slept, ate, and slept some more.

For the evening, I went out with Will and Haley to a place called Chez Afrique, which when pronounced correctly, sounds like Shay’s a Freak. On weekends, this lovely little place in the rich part of Legon – East Legon – brings in a live Highlife band. Highlife is non-traditional music; it’s very poppy, and in my opinion, very bass-heavy, which is nice. Combined with a Castle Milk Stout, my beer of choice in this country, it proved to be a nice evening. A good start to a hopefully good weekend.

Saturday, September 30^th – Tro-tro from Hell, Part I, and Arrival

I hate tro-tros and I hate Kumasi. So having to take a tro-tro to Kumasi is just bad news. For this trip to Sefwi Wiawso, via Kumasi, I was joined by Casey, who goes to Berkeley. We promptly caught a tro-tro to Circle, and after some minor confusion, got a tro-tro to Kumasi.

And so the fun begins.

We did not take a familiar road out. It looked like a back road, but we were moving quickly so I was not complaining. About an hour into the trip, our tro-tro driver pulled over. The front left tire was low on air. Okay, not a big deal. We were back on the road, and sitting absolutely still in traffic.

There is only one road connecting Kumasi to Accra, and it is constantly under construction. It would be like having one highway connecting LA to San Diego, with the northbound lanes constantly closed. Needless to say it was slow going. Our tro-tro driver wanted none of this, so he busted a move and made a right turn, finding a little back road that runs parallel to the main road. It was bumpy, but at least we were moving.

Unfortunately, tro-tro driver’s brilliant plan didn’t pay off. As soon as traffic got moving again, we had to pull over for air in a tire, this time, the rear left. Apparently, this is a cursed tro-tro. No more than 15 minutes after filling it with air, we pull over again; the tire is as flat as the Sahara. Charming. We have a solid half-hour delay, but from there, it was actually smooth sailing.

Casey and I arrived in Kumasi, jumped into a tro-tro to take us to Racecourse tro-tro station, and found the ticket stand. When we reached the stand, the young gentleman smiled and said, “Sefwi Wiawso.” Uhhhh, ya. As a rule, Ghanaians have incredible memories. They remember every face they ever meet, but I guess it was easy for this guy because, well, we’re white, and we were just there last week.

The ride to Sefwi was smooth. I kept my eyes closed for most of the trip, but managed not to fall asleep. By 8:30, two-and-a-half hours of tro-tro from Kumasi, we arrived in Sefwi. I tried calling Joseph, my new contact, but service was “asaa” – finished. We starting asking the taxi drivers if they knew Joseph Armah, and lo and behold, the first one we talked to knew him, miraculously.

The ride from the tro-tro station to the Armah’s is no more than 10 or 15 minutes. In the light, it’s a beautiful ride through the tree-lined hills. At dark, well, it’s very dark, especially without electricity.

We arrived at the Armah’s and it felt like home. Naturally, they remembered us and welcomed us into their home. Exhausted from an eleven-hour travel day, we relaxed for a bit, and the quickly crashed.

Sunday, October 1 – There’s a Monkey I Gotta Get off my Back

We slept in, by Ghanaian standards. I was out until 10:30 or so, which was much needed. It was a night of crazy dreams, but I slept through all of them Casey was not feeling so sick, and wanted to see an herbalist. Joseph told us that the herbalist wasn’t in, because it was Sunday, and Sunday is the Lord’s day for some two-thirds of Ghanaians.

With time to kill, Casey and I wandered into the depths of Sefwi Wiawso. We meandered through the town, passing goats, busy churches, and of all things, an Italian Embassy. As we walked through the town, we passed a group of boys playing “Draft,” which is like checkers. One of them was holding the smallest monkey I have ever seen. He asked if we’d like to pet his monkey, at which the 8 year-old in my head laughed. Both Casey and I took up on the offer, taking turns to hold him.

The two of us continued the walk, which got more and more beautiful as we continued. At one point, we we’re at the top of a hill, looking out over the valley, filled with nothing but green. Casey said out loud exactly what I was thinking:

The long walk made us rather hungry, so got some food – yams and some sort of sauce, which was delicious. After we ate, Joseph told us that the herbalist was back from church. Joseph was dressed in the most pimpin’ cloth – it was black with gold and white designs that looked like spades from a deck of cards. He informed us that he had to go to a funeral for a friend, and that he would walk us to the herbalist on the way there. After Casey bought her medicine, Joseph asked me if I would like to join him for the funeral. I really wanted to go, but dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, I was not appropriately dressed.

The majority of the afternoon was spent lounging around in anticipation of the Erev Yom Kippur service. We snacked on fantastic tangerines, played Spar with the kids, and snuck in a little rest.

All of us were prepared for to go when the electricity in the town went off. Clearly, power shortages are not just for Legon Hall; in fact they are nation-wide. With the power out, services were cancelled. Bummer. Regardless of the power situation, we had our last meal before the fast.

Monday, October 2^nd – Pray

I admit it, I’ve been a bad Jew. It’s been a while since I’ve been to synagogue, and it’s been a while since I’ve fasted for Yom Kippur. Now, I was prepared to not eat or drink in the heat of Africa. This should be awesome.

The fast was surprisingly easy, with the exception of the brief dehydration I endured toward the end. Fasting is easy when there’s not a whole lot of food to be taken; it’s much easier when the day – the whole thing – is spent in synagogue.

Synagogue started around 9 in the morning. The congregation was conspicuously quiet and empty; all of the children were in school. I expected the morning service to end, well, in the morning. It went forever – until almost 1 in the afternoon. Much to my surprise, we got both Torah and Haftarah, both of which were interrupted multiple times over interpretation and translation.

The afternoon service bled into a brief Yizkor. At this point, the Torah was carried around by Alex, and everyone in the congregation tapped the Torah with their siddur and kissed the siddur, a tradition universal for Judaism. The service concluded with Hineni, a lovely hymn.

We returned to the Armah residence for two hours, just enough to catch a quick rest. But not nearly enough rest. All of us returned to the synagogue around 3, and the service started around 3:30. The afternoon service was brief, and it was thankfully cut off. Once again though, we got Torah and Haftarah (Jonah – a portion I rather enjoy, actually).

The afternoon service led straight into Ne’ilah, the evening and concluding service for Yom Kippur. The service was just a few prayers, and was supposed to conclude with the blowing of the shofar, but no one was able to blow the thing (it’s pretty hard if you’ve never tried). No one, that is, until Casey busted it out. With that, the service came to an end.

Then the rains came. We were supposed to go down to a local river for a ritual cleansing, but the rain prevented that from happening. It was probably for the better. I was feeling pretty hungry and fighting off a bit of dehydration. Not being able to drink in the heat of Africa is not particularly fun. But it was finished, and dinner was on the way.

We decided it would be best to go to bed early. Casey and I would be waking up early for a long day of travel.

Tuesday, October 3^rd – Tro-Tro Ride from Hell, Part II

I had high hopes for this travel day. If everything ran well, we’d be back by 2. But this is Ghana, and to be quite frank, the transportations systems flat-out suck.

Casey and I woke up in the dark of the four o’clock hour. Joseph went out in search for a taxi, but did not succeed. So we walked for about a mile, until we found a cab. The taxi took us from the tro-tro station, where we only had to wait a few minutes to leave for Kumasi.

I hate Kumasi, if I haven’t mentioned that already. It is a cursed city in my book. The tro-tro was running very smoothly, until it broke down about 20 minutes from the station. From there, we “split” a taxi to Kumasi. I put split in quotes because Casey and I ended up covering the whole 50,000 cedi fare as the other two men in the cab bolted. As soon as we got out of the taxi, we were hounded by many men looking to take us to Accra. A couple of them started to walk off with our bags, at which point I just about went insane.

As it turns out, we got a tro-tro for 33,000 cedis, a whole 2,000 cedis (22 cents) cheaper than expected. Whoo! This time, our tro-tro driver rocked. We did about 60 miles per hour for most of the trip, until we hit Achimota. If there is a city I hate as much as Kumasi, it is Achimota. It is nothing but a pit stop for taxis and tro-tros. We sat in traffic for about 45 minutes, without a desperately needed FanIce.

After what seemed like forever, we got out of Achimota, and almost made it to Circle, when we hit a roadblock. At this point, I’m ready to surrender. We walk for a bit, until we hit Circle and find a tro-tro to Legon. Thankfully, that ride was smooth. By 3:30, we were in Legon.

By the numbers, it plays out like this:

94,000: cedis spent for transportation from Sefwi Wiawso to Legon
425: kilometers covered between Sefwi Wiawso and Legon
10: hours spent in some mode of transportation
5: vehicles used. Three tro-tros and two taxis
1: FanIce consumed, not nearly enough for a 10 hour trip

With all that travel in the past, I came home to Legon to two treats: Rich Love (I had been waiting for it all day) and running water. And it stayed on long enough for me to wash some clothes and myself. It made all that trouble almost worth it.

I must say, though, that there are no regrets about the weekend. Being able to celebrate the holidays in Ghana is an experience I will never forget. All the horrid tro-tro rides, all the meals of just yams or rice with sauce. It was totally worth it. I’m really looking forward to just being able to relax for the next couple days.

Hope those who fasted made it with ease, and hope everyone is doing well.

Pictures will be coming in the next few days.

LDG