Got to go to Togo

This past weekend, the crew did a little border-hop over to Togo, Ghana's French-speaking eastern neighbor. Part of the reason for the trip was visa-related (with a multiple entry visa, it's common to briefly leave the country and then gain a new immigration stamp upon reentry; it's basically like restarting the shot clock).

From Accra, it takes roughly 3 hours to reach the border town of Aflao. Crossing the border was its own chaotic adventure. Actually, "chaotic" is probably a poor choice of words; there were clearly several schemes being run at all times, aimed at scamming visitors as quickly as possible. "Hectic" would be a more appropriate description. As soon as we descended from the bus, we were mobbed by an army of money changers who would take our Ghanaian cedis or American dollars in exchange for Togolese CFAs (which are also used in a number of other African countries). A basic rate for USD => CFAs is roughly 1:450. A bad rate (advertised by most of the money changers) is 1:400. However, they're counting on tourists to not even have a clue about the rate (or, in the alternative, not being able to perform the quick mental calculations). One person in our party wound up exchanging $40 USD at a 1:250 rate, and another person changed at 1:333. I managed to secure the correct 1:450 rate, but I wound up being cheated in a more explicit way - as the money-changer was handing me my bills, he was quickly pocketing a few of them! He used some really fast sleight of hand, and I actually couldn't catch it with my eyes. I was prudent enough to manually recount the money before leaving their presence (they ironically told me, "Don't count it here, someone might steal your money!"). Once I confronted him about the deception, he reluctantly gave me the correct amount.

It was a really strange experience. In Ghana, thievery is strongly condemned. In fact, it is common to hear stories about would-be-thieves who are severely beaten (and sometimes killed) when they are caught stealing. I have rarely feared for my possessions or my security because I know that there is such a strong social stigmatization against criminal behaviour.



Once you cross the border by foot, you're basically already in Lomé, Togo's largest city. I was surprised by how dramatic the difference is between the two sides of the border. Firstly, the use of English drops to zero almost immediately. The type of food being sold by street vendors is also different - baguettes with avocado are ubiquitous and delicious. The composition of the vehicles on the road is also very different. In Ghana, the roads are mostly covered with small cars like Peugots, more often than not serving as taxis. In Togo, roughly 60% of all vehicles on the road are motorcycles. They essentially act as their public transportation system - you can't go anywhere without being asked if you want to take a "moto-moto".

These differences are even more remarkable when you consider the artificiality of the division between the two relatively young countries. The eastern region of Ghana actually used to be part of Togoland (as British Togoland). This explains why people on both sides of the border typically speak the same traditional language (Ewe). In 1956, the residents of British Togoland voted to join the newly emerging country of Ghana, whereas Togo gained its independence in 1960.

The first thing we did upon arrival was to visit the massive "Grande Marché" (Big Market). The market was packed tightly with vendors selling all types of wares - from fabrics to foodstuffs.




The next day, we visited the "Fetish Market", which is where ingredients for traditional voodoo medicines are sold. It's about ten minutes out of Lomé. At the market, we had to pay a guide a supposedly mandatory $10 fee (I have my doubts about this). Still, it was a cool experience. There were all sorts of skulls, skins, and horns for sale; the scene had the same kind of eerie silence and chilling atmosphere you'd from a horror movie.




Again, there was some pretty smooth scamming ... we went to see the "voodoo chief" (his business card, strangely, made no mention of his chieftaincy - it just said "herbologiste"). This is what happened when I went to buy a couple of the voodoo dolls:

Voodoo chief: [Ewe]
Translator: He must ask the spirits what an appropriate price will be for these dolls. They will tell him what you must pay.
Chief: [Shaking four white shells in his hands, and casting them on the ground. He then studies them intently, and says something to the translator in Ewe.]
Translator: The spirits have said that they require 35,000 CFAs.
Me: Uhh ... well, I don't have that. I only have 10,000 CFAs.
Translator: We will go back and consult the spirits. [He speaks to the "chief" in Ewe]
Chief: [Shakes more of the shells, casts them on the ground, studies them.]
Translator: The spirits have said that it will be acceptable to pay 30,000 CFAs.
Me: No, seriously, I only have 10,000 CFAs.
Translator: [quickly] Okay, that's fine. Take them.
[Then, the voodoo chief's cell phone rings in his pocket.]



We ended our weekend by spending Saturday night and most of Sunday on a beachfront lodge called "Coco Beach", about 10 minutes outside of Lomé. It was fortunate enough that we found a place to stay (we didn't have any plans or reservations; the whole trip was us flying by the seat of our pants). To stay somewhere as gorgeous (and inexpensive!) as Coco Beach was borderline miraculous. We were taken care of out by an incredibly funny and helpful Togolese employee named Emmanuelle. Coco Beach was incredibly beautiful (you're probably sick of reading that), and we had a very nice and relaxing time.





Oh, and on the way, we totally had to stop and wait for a cow crossing. It was awesome.