Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Trials, Trees, and Travels

Trials, Trees and Travels

Lots happened over the last week, so I'm going to break this up into a few sections. Normally I'd spread it over multiple posts, but I don't want to spam RSS feeds or FaceBook profiles (see, I'm considerate like that). Check it out on the original site, because I'm not sure the newly added alt-text is going to work in FaceBook.

Trial at Tarkwa

On Thursday, I travelled to Tarkwa (approximately five hours outside of Accra) to observe a Ghanaian trial. The case was being heard at the High Court in Tarkwa, which is roughly analogous to the superior court of a province (or, for the Americans following along, a US district court). The court house building wasn't exactly beautiful. In fact, when I was snapping photos, a passerby inquired as to whether I was here to renovate the building (much to her dismay, I wasn't). I tried to not let the aesthetics of the place distract me from the substance of the legal proceedings.

It's worth mentioning that, much like Canada, Ghana inherited the British legal tradition, including much of the old pomp and circumstance. For example, just like in Canada, the lawyers referred to the judge as "my lord", and were wearing robes and tabs. A mildly hilarious quirk that (mercifully) didn't stick around in Canada (or the UK, AFAIK): wigs. All the lawyers appearing at the High Court have to wear wigs (which, for added comedy, are also light blond). This includes our CEPIL lawyer, Prince, who was the one arguing in court. You can see that he's tabbed and holding his wig, as well as his robes.


The court house also had some pretty hilarious signage. For example:


The court case itself was a little difficult to follow. Not necessarily because the legal system is foreign - in fact, most of the actual proceedings mirrored the Canadian system very closely. However, the physical realities of the court room made it very difficult to hear what was happening. Most significantly, the judge had a really, really soft voice. As in, on-board-the-Red-October-during-a-sonar-scan soft. Like many buildings here, the court room is "naturally ventilated" (meaning that the walls are designed to let air through, with the unfortunate side effect of also letting noise right through). So, on top of our soft-spoken judge, there was a rooster that had inconveniently placed itself directly outside the courtyard. This isn't some cartoon rooster that crows once at dawn, either. Oh, no - this little bugger managed to crow pretty much non-stop throughout the entire case.


When you represent an entire community, you tend to have a lot of clients. This means you're going to have to do a lot of explaining after the proceedings conclude. Here you can see Prince talking to the residents of the mining community, and explaining to them what exactly had taken place in Court that day.


Fort Victoria

On the way back from Tarkwa, we had to go through Cape Coast. Taylor and I decided to get dropped off and spend the weekend doing some sightseeing.

Right next to our hotel (the Mighty Victory Lodge, which struck me as a little grandiose for a hotel name) was Fort Victoria, which really struck me as more of a watchtower than an actual fort. The weather when we arrived was kind of dark and stormy, which really added to the atmosphere. Fort Victoria is actually situated on the highest point in Cape Coast, which is what gives the fort its strategic value. You can't really see it in the photos, but there were black birds (crows, perhaps?) circling the whole time.



Kakum National Park

Early the next morning, we set off for Kakum National Park. The main attraction of a visit to Kakum is the canopy walk. After a mild upwards hike, visitors are suspended about seven stories above the rainforest floor. The height didn't actually bother me, because you can't really see all the way to the bottom. Your view is obscured by the treetops, so it didn't feel like we were very high. Of course, that's just my opinion ... my traveling companion was unable to look down, and instead marched forward in straight line without once letting her eyes drop. The bridges (seven in total, connected by little "rest stations" anchored to the tallest trees), however, tended to sway and bounce with each step. Although we were assured that the Park has never had a fatality on the bridge, I am positive that more than one traveller has lost their digital camera on that walk.



After the canopy walk, we opted to take a brief nature walk. Our guide (who was awesome) would explain the various traditional medical uses for the bark and sap of the trees and plants that we passed. He didn't constrain himself to making a briefly explaining that "Tree X helped treat Ailment Y", either. Instead, he provided us with detailed instructions on how to prepare and administer the correct treatment (I'm pretty sure that I can now heal an infected compound fracture with some hot water and tree bark). Some of the trees that we saw were amazingly huge. Here's a picture of Taylor standing next to the largest one. That's not a wall behind her, oh no. That's a tree. A large, large tree.

I also really enjoyed this tree, because I think plants with natural defenses are awesome. I'm hopefully that one day it'll evolve into an Ent.



Castles at Cape Coast and Elmina

After getting back from Kakum, we rested for a moment, and then headed out to Cape Coast castle.



The castle is located right along the ocean, and was a major commercial hub during the slave trade. We participated in a guided tour that took us through the various dungeons and holding cells contained within the castle. It was quite a chilling experience, particularly when our guide would close the door to briefly simulate the conditions faced by the slaves. Of course, any simulation could not approach the horror of the dungeon's original purpose. We were in a group of about 25 or 30, and we felt claustrophobic being in that confined space. I can't even fathom what it would have bene like for the 300 men who were forced to eat, sleep, and excrete waste within that same space. I tried to take a photo or two, but pictures of walls don't really convey the visceral feeling of confinement.

After exploring the Cape Coast castle, we took a taxi over to Elmina (the town that is only forty-five minutes away from Cape Coast). The castle at Elmina is actually the oldest extant European building in sub-Saharan Africa.


It was constructed in 1482 (!) by the Portuguese, subsequently taken over by the Dutch, then later acquired by the British. Even more so than Cape Coast castle, it was a major part in the Atlantic Slave Trade.


The population of Elmina seemed to really depend on tourists who visited the castle, much more so than Cape Coast. At the immediate exterior of the castle, there was a huge throng of teenage youths trying to sell various baubles. It was a pushier atmosphere than even the pushiest market in Accra. One particularly clever scheme involved a couple friendly youths approaching and befriending tourists as they entered the castle, and then presenting them with a "gift" of a seashell with their name written in marker. They would then ask for a 10 or 20 Gh¢ "donation" to their "football club".


On our way out of Cape Coast and back to Accra, our original plan was to stop by an ATM to take out enough money to pay our hotel bill. Of course, none of them worked (ATMs are notoriously unreliable in Ghana, which is something I should have had the foresight to realize ahead of time). Anyways, we were about 15 Gh¢ (or about $11 Cdn) short of settling up our hotel bill. I was growing a little distraught, since literally each of the town's four banks was either a.) without an ATM b.) without an ATM that would accept my debit card (x2) c.) without an ATM that was not temporarily out of service. Thankfully, we were able to borrow some money from a fellow traveller by the name of Andy Crawford.

Sidenote: Andy Crawford = Patron Saint of Awesome
Who exactly is Andy Crawford? A saint? An angel? A time-travelling cyborg from the future, programmed to teach humanity the moral lessons that will enable our species to avoid nuclear extinction and continue thriving in the twenty-third century? Or is he simply a kind-hearted Irish fellow? Sadly, we may never know the truth.

Some random, but really cool, pictures

Check out this awesomeness:



Thursday, June 18, 2009

Tro-tro!

Let me introduce you to the cornerstone of Ghanaian transportation: the tro-tro.

A "tro-tro" is, essentially, a large van that has been retrofitted to seat anywhere between 14 and 20 people. It's what I use to go to and from work on a daily basis, and often my preferred mode of transportation for getting around the city.

Tro-tros run regular routes, and Each tro-tro has to be sanctioned by the appropriate transportation board in order to operate legally. They are operated by a two-man crew - a driver, and a mate (I use the term "two-man" purposefully; I have never seen a female driver or a female mate). The driver's role is straightforward, but the mate has a slightly more harrowing job. As you can see in the photo, the mate will hang haphazardly out of the open van door (often while it's still moving), trying to draw passengers into the tro-tro. He is also responsible for seating the passengers (often herding us into remarkably small spaces), and for collecting the fares (which are truly a pittance ... even the longest route within the city will cost less than $0.50 CDN).



Most of them have some sort of slogan affixed to the front and the back, often religiously themed. (One of my all-time favorites: "Try Islam!") Inside the tro-tro, the driver will have often lined the windshield with flags from his favorite foreign countries (Canada is a popular choice), or just as frequently, his favorite football team ("football" in the soccer sense of the word).

These tro-tros essentially comprise the country's public transportation system. The major tro-tro stations (inevitably, attached to a large market where street vendors sell everything from fruits to suits) have hundreds of tro-tros, as you can see from Thomas' picture below.



But you don't have to get out of the tro-tro to do your shopping! Oh, no! At nearly every major intersection, during the inevitable traffic jams, there are merchants who will run up and down the busy street, trying to sell you food, water, newspapers, phone cards, etc. You can pretty much get all the necessities of life at any red-light.

When I'm on the tro-tro is when I feel most immersed in Ghanaian culture. Unless I'm traveling with a co-worker, I will usually be the only "obruni" on the tro-tro. If I am traveling to an unfamiliar location, there will be no shortage of people to help point me in the right direction. Once, when I had paid my fare and a mate had given me insufficient change, a helpful fellow tro-tro'er argued with the mate on my behalf until I was provided with adequate coinage.

However, there is a downside. The sad truth is that tro-tros, particularly the ones that travel between cities, are quite dangerous. There are, of course, no seat-belts, and the rusty frames of the vehicles look like they would crumple if you stared at it hard enough. The vehicles are all very old, and often break down in the middle of the road (this has happened to me twice so far, fortunately with no negative consequences other than an additional delay). A week and a half ago, one of my housemates had a visiting family member tragically involved in a tro-tro accident (on the highway, where the speeds are much, much higher). Things will hopefully turn out alright, but that incident does underscore the inherent danger in tro-tro travel. There's not much I can do, though ... it's something that's out of my contro-trol.

Tomorrow: Going to a trial in the Tarkwa region!

Monday, June 15, 2009

I'm On a Boat

Sadly, though, I was not wearing a nautical-themed pashmina afghan. (Also ... no T-Pain)

On Sunday (14th), we made a day trip back to the Volta region (the same general area we visited last weekend). The purpose of this trip was to go and visit Dodi Island, near Akasombo. It was, of course, awesome.

There were a lot of little islands along the lake. Some of them seemed straight out of Lost. I know it's filmed in Hawaii, but I still expected to float past a statute of a giant, six-toed foot.



The boat itself was really cool. It wasn't a deluxe cruise ship or anything, but it still had quite a few amenities. The boat had three floors, one of which had a live band playing on it! Of course there was a lot of dancing. Some of the dancing was captured on video, but I don't have the uploading capabilities to put it on the inter-tubes. The Ghanaian people on the boat reacted quite enthusiastically to the presence of "obrunis" (read: white people) on the dance floor. (Sidenote: Yes, it's kind of strange to be called a white person).



The midway point of the journey was when the boat docked at Dodi Island, which was located in the middle of the lake.



We docked for only a short period of time ... maybe 45 minutes or an hour at the most. That didn't stop some of my fellow travel companions from getting in a canoe, though. What this picture doesn't capture is the comically short length of their journey. Since the boat was departing in about 30 minutes, the canoe made a small circle with a radius of maybe 100m, and then deposited its passengers back on the shore.



A sidebar about Dodi Island:
The island was nice, but it was also a little bit of a strange experience. When the island's inhabitants greeted the boat, it was clear that a large proportion of them expected the foreigners to give money. In the city, I am approached by beggars several times a day; I am still struggling to adjust to the frequency at which this happens. So, it was a little overwhelming to set foot on Dodi Island and become immediately inundated by requests for money. I had a little bag of hard candies, and thought that it would be a nice thing to give some to the children. I was immediately besieged by every child within 20m, all of whom had outstretched palms. In retrospect, I suppose I should have handled the candy distribution in a more organized and discreet manner. Some of them waited politely for their turn, but most of them grabbed at my hands, the candy, my shirt ... really, whatever piece of me they could get a hand on. At one point, I feared that the smaller children would have their candy confiscated by the larger children, but that never happened. It reminded me of something that I read in one of the guidebooks - stealing is considered a far greater transgression in Ghana than it is in North America.

The reality is that a large percentage of the population depends directly on the charity of foreigners. The tourism industry is one of the fastest growing sectors of the Ghanaian economy, so I don't see things changing in the near future. I haven't formulated a consistent policy on how to deal with begging - I'm very torn on the issue. Most of the literature on the internet advocates completely ignoring beggars, so I suppose I will have to learn to grow comfortable navigating the sea outstretched hands.

In other news, Friday night (12th) was spent dancing to live High Life music at Chez Afrique. Several folks from CEPIL joined us as well, including a few of the lawyers and even the Director himself! High Life music is an incredibly upbeat style that originated in Ghana and has since spread to other parts of West Africa. It is a little jazz, a little gospel, but it's a pretty unique sound. It's got a lot of guitar and horns, and (most importantly) is eminently danceable. Much to the surprise of nobody, my co-workers promptly classified my dancing style as "bouncy".

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Monkeys and Waterfalls

(Note to those reading this on FaceBook - I'm not sure that Blogger will properly import the pictures. If you're seeing just text, then zip over to the blog, at http://chris-in-ghana.blogspot.com for the pictures.)

This past weekend I went up north, out of Accra (the capital city) and up to the Volta region of Ghana. It. Was. Incredible. As soon as I left the city, I realized that trying to explore Ghana without leaving Accra would be as impossible as trying to explore Canada without leaving Toronto. Ghana has naturally beautiful scenery and a rich cultural history; I'm saddened because I know that I cannot possibly see everything the country has to offer in only three months.

My traveling party consisted of two other CLA interns (Tharani and Myriam, who are both placed at WiLDAF), two non-CLA interns from CEPIL (Thomas and Taylor), and another miscellaneous friend (Mike, the roommate of one of the non-CLA CEPIL interns). From left to right, it's myself, Taylor, Tharani, Myriam, and Mike. Thomas is in the back.



We were a motley collection at the beginning of the trip, but by the end of the weekend we were all pretty tight. We even bought matching bracelets, which (when brought together) magically summoned a mango, Captain Planet-styles.



Friday was spent at the immaculate Paradise Mountain Lodge. From Accra, the length of the journey was approximately 5 hours. The lodge is located at the top of a mountain (no, seriously), so you can either pay an exorbitant amount to taxi up the hill (no thanks) or you can use your feet. We opted for the later. It took us about 45 minutes of hiking uphill before we could even see the lodge, and even then it was pretty far off in the distance. If you look really hard in the picture, you can see the red roof of the building.



By the time we reached the hotel, it was too late to go down and back up the mountain. Instead, we opted for the hotel's "nature walk" (imagine that I'm using sarcastic air quotes). The nature walk actually turned out to be a four hour long ordeal, at points requiring us to rappel short distances down cliff faces. The "map" (again, note the sarcastic air quotes) was not very helpful; we almost got lost in the African jungle (we figured that we could find enough water and fruit to survive the night, but it was definitely not Plan A).



Thankfully, we found our way back before sunset. As it turned out, we were heading in the complete opposite direction of where we should have been. A farmer heard us moving through the jungle, and kindly pointed us back in the right direction. We spent a very enjoyable, if quiet, night at the lodge. We were the only guests there for the night, so we had the place to ourselves.



On Saturday morning, we woke up at sunrise (6:00am) to visit the Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary. Apparently, the monkeys are only active when it's early in the morning (this makes me the anti-monkey). Disclosure: I had never been a big fan of monkeys. I didn't understand why everyone made such a fuss over them. They spread disease and fling poop. I thought they were wildly overrated (much like the sitcom Seinfeld and the province of British Columbia). But ... I was wrong about monkeys. Within 10 minutes of our arrival at Tafi Atome, our guide made this odd kissing noise. Suddenly, we were surrounded by roughly a dozen monkeys. They wanted our bananas. They wanted our bananas badly. The greedy little monkeys scampered down from their perches with remarkable agility. They were peeling and eating the bananas while they were still in our hands! It was really awesome to watch how quickly and efficiently they moved. I'm officially a convert; monkeys are awesome.




Saturday afternoon was spent traveling to the Wli Falls. There are actually two waterfalls in which visitors can swim - the "Lower Falls" and the "Upper Falls". We had arrived too late to make it to the Upper Falls before sundown, but we had enough time for the short hike to the Lower Falls. The water fell from a dizzying height; walking through the waterfall felt like trudging through a hurricane.





Sunday was the hike to the Upper Falls. The hike itself was incredibly beautiful, but also fairly grueling. It was two full hours of almost entirely uphill climbing. I had a waterfall of sweat dripping off my face that was almost as voluminous as the one at our destination. It was definitely worth the trip, though. The Upper Falls probably weren't as spectacular as the Lower Falls, but it felt infinitely more rewarding. Also, since we were able to make it so high, we were able to view some truly incredible landscapes.





All in all, it was a pretty incredible weekend.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Dear Running Water

Look, I know it's been a while since we last saw each other, but I just wanted to let you know how I feel. I miss you - even more than I thought I would. I'm sure that you miss me, too, even if you don't realize it right now. Please come back to me.

At first I heard you had left for a turbine replacement. That was understandable - turbine replacements are hard to come by, so when one comes your way, you don't turn it down. Then, someone else told me that you were gone because of a broken pipe. Seriously? A broken pipe? What kind of reason is that? If your story keep changing, how am I supposed to know if you'll ever come back? I just don't know what to believe anymore.

In the beginning, it was easy to live without you. I'll admit, I briefly enjoyed it. I mean, it was hard and everything, but it was such a completely different experience that I felt ... liberated. But that liberation quickly gave way to annoyance, then sadness, and now ... now I've just got this empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's terrible without you. I miss the way you used to run through my hair, tracing yourself all the way down my body. I even miss the stupid little things, like how you'd help me with chores like cooking or laundry.

Please come back.