Accra

Posted by Atkilt on November 21st, 2009

The clouds over Accra are dense. Each day they are dark, yet somehow the sun manages to peek through. This is not symbolic, it is literal. It is as if the clouds have reason to cry, to shed their tears on the multitudes of black bodies beneath them. They choose to delay instead, choking on their mood and conceding the days to the sun. No matter how certain the conditions seem for rain, each day passes dry and hot. It is my first few days in the country. It is September and the wet season is just ending, the shadowy clouds remnants of the past months. Those first days are too far gone for me to now remember how I was feeling. My memories of them are fatigue, confusion, meeting other volunteers and uncertainty as to what exactly I was doing here.

While in the guesthouse, my days began with an hour and a half taxi rides through the traffic jungles of Accra. Accentuated by murky smog, hordes of street vendors and irate drivers, each morning proved to be engaging and adventurous. I would debate and discuss various issues on those rides with my colleague and fellow Canadian volunteer, who despite the 40 plus degree whether never failed to don one of an assortment of trusty cardigans at her disposal.

The workplace is a challenging environment. The physical expression of an organization that operates nationwide is two rooms: one being the director’s office and the other the rest of the staff’s. This second room somehow manages to accommodate three desks and computers, two printers, a copy machine, waiting area, book shelf, and six employees. With visitors and part-time staff there are at times 11 to 12 people occupying this very small space. This contrasts sharply with the experience of some other volunteers, who during weeknight gatherings at some uppity restaurants revealed that their offices are roomy and even luxurious. I was quick to learn that my duties would comprise a lot more than my mandate. Assignments range from compiling reports, arranging proposals, assisting in child’s rights cases and liaising with different organizations to drafting letters and completing simple administrative tasks. So there is a gamut of experiences in the actual work which I’m grateful for. Somehow, this crowded and intimate space works and works well, the only downside being the muggy heat during occasional power outages.

I reside in Awudome Estates, whose name lends it a sense of lavishness but is actually a decent middle-class residential area. Located in downtown Accra, it somehow manages to remain quiet and free of traffic. I’m there most of the week, until I travel for field work or excursions with friends. My landlady is a gracious old woman who runs a bar in the same compound. The owner, her son, is the spitting image of Sam Jackson, goatee, bald-head and Kangol hat included. Except that he’s a hairdresser. He seems to only be present to negotiate or collect rent. My experience there has been fantastic, despite the army of thumb-size cockroaches that emerged from the cracks in the walls of the bathroom one night. I killed, sprayed and quarantined. Only a few have amassed the fortitude to show face since. They faced the same dire consequences as their kin. I walk to work, a 20 minute journey past the TV Africa building, ahead of a cluster of traffic, over a bridge above a large open sewer, through a maze of shops and stands, beyond the huge tro-tro station, around Nkrumah Circle and up Adabraca to my faithful breakfast lady and her stand (she makes a meeeaan omlette!).

Good friendships with a few Ghanaians granted me access to areas and sights in Accra I’d never have seen otherwise. While briefly stationed in the Newtown area, my friend and ever-industrious colleague Festus, whose name is always preceded by the phrase “ever industrious colleague”, invited me to dinner at his home in Nima. Nima is a zongo or predominantly Muslim area, and is overcrowded and busy. Cars, trucks, people and livestock share the same slender roads in the middle of the city. To arrive at his place we had to walk through a labyrinth of narrow trails over wooden panels covering open sewers. Along the way, he’d greet characters from the neighborhood, with nods and mumbled greetings given to passerbys. We arrived at a sudden open clearing. This I learned was Festus’ compound. Many compounds in Ghana are arranged the same way motels are in North America, a rectangular horseshoe structure with separate rooms which have a door each facing outside. Festus’ room was the second on the right, past the playing children, his stepmom preparing banku and his fiancé pounding fufu, one of my favorite Ghanaian dishes. The urban sprawl in the area was very similar visually to Rio’s favelas (as I’d seen them in the film City of God).

I made a concerted effort to remain faithful to my travel clinic’s guidelines. Yet three days in I was eating and drinking everything from everywhere. And so I salute the makers of Immodium, whose unprecedented contribution to society continues to be criminally disregarded. My precarious eating habit allowed me to discover the rich Ghanaian cuisine. Kenkey, banku, TZ, omotuo, jollof, fufu, apapansa, yam, plantain and its various manifestations… and the list goes on. There is never a shortage of delicious foods. What’s nearly as interesting is how the different foods are prepared, the details of which I won’t attempt to provide because I’m too tense with anticipation during actual preparations to observe.

Ghana is a beautiful country with a welcoming and considerate people. This is a determined and strong-willed nation with a splendid and diverse culture. Its landscape is bountiful and thriving, and at times I almost feel guilty for places I’ve been fortunate to be. Its diversity in culture and language allows for much to be discovered. As soon as I learned elementary phrases in Twi and Ga, I had to do the same with Krobo and Ewe, not to mention the numerous other languages. As a country making strides in development, it appears as though Ghana has a bright and successful future. Medase.

Posted in Country, Ghana, In-Country