The Spirit of Africa

Note: This e-mail letter was originally delivered on or about September 29th, 2007


Hello all,
Greetings from Ghana. Ete sen, how are you? I hope that this note finds you all in great health and good spirits and, for those of you up north that the weather has not yet gotten too cold. If so… you could send some our way… A bit of chilled air would be more than welcome.


Cold is definitely not the problem here. The weather has been too hot to handle for the last two weeks, though thankfully for the first week it was overcast and a good, mid-level introduction to the level of humidity that we could expect in the future. In all honesty, it hasn't been unbearable, and has actually been quite accommodating given the proximity to the equator. Every day feels like rain but the storms seldom actually come through. The one storm we've had though was a doozy and I definitely got caught out in it. Most of my wardrobe turned semi-transparent which made me all the more noticeable… not that I need help with that given my white skin and red hair. I tend to stand out in a crowd here.


That being said, I've never felt uncomfortable with it in the same way that I would in Morocco. It's almost as if the people here have better, more important things to worry about than how strange I am. Still, I sometimes wonder just how strange that is. I can't see myself so I can't really answer my own question but the reactions of young children who still turn and point when their better mannered parents restrain themselves give me some idea. (In Morocco the parents would be the ones pointing… The kids would be laughing… and ALL would proceed to speak down to me as if I was an idiot… just to give you some idea of what it was like being different THERE and the differences here.) Often, I get called Obroni, "whiteman" in Twi (pronounced tCHwee), the Ashanti dialect most common in the capital, instead of my name. For someone used to getting called "red" or “carrot top” for other, equally obvious reasons I can understand that. If I make the effort to introduce myself or use the little Twi I've figured out so far the vast majority are more than happy to adjust and treat me as a full equal.


So… AFRICA… I must admit besides stories and national geographic specials I hadn't had much idea of what to expect. The third world nature of the place I can understand having seen, felt and tasted what it’s like in Morocco but beyond the poverty and the problems shared by developing countries everywhere It's amazing here. Even far from the bush of rural Ghana you can feel the spirit of the country and the continent in every action, in the way people dress, in every conversation and every market transaction, every smile, joke and every prayer. These people are trying to take what they've been given and run with it. Trying, sometimes misguidedly, sometimes inefficiently, sometimes in new and amazing ways, to move forward and improve their own lot, the lot of their families, friends, neighbors and countrymen. After two days here I could see what was missing in Morocco… that drive to improve, to fix what's broken. To complain and then move beyond the complaint. It's unbelievably refreshing (and yet at the same time almost unbearably sad) to realize that many of the problems I had accomplishing work in Morocco were not in myself, or the methods I was attempting, but in the people themselves. It's hard not to love the people here too much. It was hard to even know the people there.


Much of my time so far has been spent in and around the capitol city of Accra. We've been reconnecting with some of Carly's old contacts here and staying in an apartment next to her old host family. It belongs to the landlord's daughter who's off at boarding school currently and was therefore vacant. We met the landlady (one of several "Aunties" I've acquired—All older women are called Auntie by all younger people as a respectful method of address) in the whirlwind of activity the night we arrived and have since been warmly welcomed (as a quiz of our Twi knowledge as much as for any other reason) to the building every time we return home from an outing. Carly's old host sister (Cynthia) and host mom (Auntie #2) are our main contacts next door and her host sister's young children (Kobby who is almost 3 and Duke who is almost 1) are a constant source of both amusement and frustration. I'm pressed into service as a babysitter when the women are in the kitchen or are otherwise occupied and I've been impressed by their attention and knowledge.

A view of a typical Ghanaian shop from the balcony in front of our appartment
You can get almost anything done at these little shops on the roadside. This one happens to be a TV repair shop

A generation gap. Kobby and his Grandfather who is in Traditional dress.


Education and religion are very important here and both are almost universally attended. Kobby is already in school five days a week and knows the full alphabet (when he can be coaxed to sit still long enough to recite it) before his third birthday. We're trying to convince his mom that she shouldn't completely neglect his education in Twi in favor of English while he is young and completely capable of simultaneously learning both. Education is based on the British system (I'm not completely sure what that means) and there are many levels… Pre-school, Prep school, Primary school, junior secondary school, secondary school and university. The schools are half funded by the state and half funded by tuition paid by the parents. As a result they get some say in where their children go and each afternoon, kids of all sizes and dressed in an amazing array of brightly colored school uniforms make their way in different directions across the city. When it comes to secondary school and college prep they will even travel across the country to attend good schools, most of which are boarding school "Academies." I also visited the University of Ghana at Legon. The campus is sprawling and quite beautiful and has much the same atmosphere as university campuses back home… half hushed study and half un-restrained foolishness that comes with learning just to live. Faculty and students from all over the world share classrooms and knowledge as readily and as successfully as anywhere in the first world.


As far as churches go… there is one or more on every street corner and every denomination imaginable is represented. On one end of our street there is a Mosque ringing out an all too familiar call to prayer at all hours (Happy Ramadan everyone!) and at the other end there is a Hindu temple. Methodists, Catholics, Presbyterians, Mormons, and a hundred other variations on the Christian theme all are represented in triplicate and are all packed every Sunday and most other evenings. (Sometimes too often in the case of the church that meets in the basement of our apartment building.) The missionaries that came with and before the colonial era did their job well here and their converts have become missionaries to their own people and have adapted their own culture and practices to mesh with their Christian faith. Most churches are very active in their support of schools and hospitals as well as branch churches around the country. When they meet a traditional practice that might have been a barrier they integrate it instead of demolishing it. Everywhere, you see Ashanti symbols which adapted their religious meanings to better fit (or not conflict) with Christian principles, and the practice of religion here differs enough from the more sedate versions of the same in the U.S. and Europe that it could qualify as aerobic exercise. In most ways all this faith is a great thing. It's real and heartfelt. But like religion everywhere it sometimes leads to turf-waresque problems and other issues that institutionalizing faith has had since the dawn of time.


I've been out a few times with Carly's host brother John. He's the same age as me and went to a high school that specialized in Art. His talent is quite amazing but is underused because there isn't much room for that kind of thing in his world. Talking with him makes me sad because he is torn between wanting to just be young and the responsibilities of life. As the last born in his family he has responsibilities to the family members born before him and so he is pursuing visas to work abroad in many and not always completely legitimate ways. This makes me cringe but I can't deny the difficult road ahead of him. I'm sure that he would do things the right way if he could see any light at the end of that tunnel. Carly and I are trying to help him get set up designing and screen printing various "I love Ghana" shirts for the baby tourism industry (and for the upcoming Africa Cup of Nations soccer tournament in 2008) in hopes that will keep his artistic side entertained and help him buy paints for the canvases that have no current market but better express his soul.

Our Friend (Carly's Host Brother) John using his artisic ability to design and print tee-shirts
Carly and John modeling some of the nights finished product. There were three designs in total.


In the few days off that he's had to spend with us we've spent some time in the city, made traditional Ghanaian food and gone to the beach, a beautiful tropical place with white sand and palm trees. A place where fishermen fix their nets in the shade of their enormous beached dugout canoes and wait for the tide to come in so they can float out for another shift. Where young boys wade in up to their waists and float long lines out on the riptide in hopes of snaring a squid or other big fish to supplement their diet or income. Even though I don't often consider myself a beach person I will admit that I had fun there, like one of those places you hear about in stories. We pretty much had the place to ourselves but our white skin did attract some local kids who I taught to make sandcastles using an old bottle I cut in half with my pocket knife to make a bucket. I also swam for a bit. The body surfing was great but the riptide was fierce and it took a lot of energy even to stay in one place.

Making plantain paste in a giant mortar and pestle as the first step in making Fufu. A traditional meal.

A bit further in the process. Definately takes quite a lot of work and more coordination than you would think. I tried it later.

This is a really big boat all carved (as far as I can tell) out of one tree. We took shelter in the shade it offered since there wasn't much otherwise.
Different view of the boat and its cool paint job. Every boat has its own unique color scheme.
A curious little girl on the beach selling rolls. I bought a few in exchange for this photo.


The city of Accra is a crazy place packed to the gills with people and buildings and cars… Way, way too many cars. Having been built for a different age when so many cars weren't even really a consideration it still has traffic circles (roundabouts, rotaries whatever you want to call them)instead of overpasses and only about half the traffic lights work at any given time. Traffic is ALWAYS backed up and emissions standards are much lower than the developed world. The result is that most of the time you try to get from point A to point B you end up feeling like you're in the world's biggest parking garage and every car is running. On the upside, all the parked cars have created a niche market for selling just about everything. At all the intersections ladies with baskets, bowls and boxes perched unbelievably on their heads in perfect and graceful balance will sell you water, plantain chips, apples, meat pies, skewers of mystery meat, bread, rolls, shrimp, fish, things you might need to make dinner, candy, gum etc. while the men sell just about everything else, walking between cars offering phone cards, newspapers, shirts, shoes, auto decals, matches, knives, machetes, umbrellas, chocolate, window washing, windshield wipers (installed while you wait) and many others. People will also get on the buses (really just 15 passenger vans that ply various routes around the city) to sell miracle remedies or preach the word of God (often related). It takes hours to get anywhere but the spectacle of this impromptu market often makes the wait worthwhile.

A sample of traffic in Accra. This is one of the main roads and none of these cars are moving. If you look closely you can see some street vendors.


Still, it's nice to get out of the city. So far we've been on a trip to a botanical garden that was a remnant of the British African ideal but still maintained enough of its African character that its trees and birds were quite amazing. We just got back from a longer expedition to the city of Cape Coast where we experienced one of the many slave forts in this part of Africa. A monument to a darker time, its both a sad testament to humankinds ability to behave with an unbelievable level of evil intent and also a beacon of hope for the future as well as a place for many to return to their roots and discover their past.

I love these huge trees! The black mass behind my head is an ant colony working its way up the tree. They bite!
This is a Ficus. yes.. A ficus. It started as a vine and over the years completely surrounded and strangled its host tree, which then rotted out from the inside leaving only the tree size hollow ficus behind. This is a view as the dying tree would have seen it.
Self explanitory. The beach at Cape Coast
Carly at Cape Coast Castle Courtyard (how's that for alliteration) View of the colonial buildings and slave auction building in the back.
Slave dungeons at Cape Coast Castle. More than a thousand would be down here in pitch darkness at any given time.
The fishing shantytown at Cape Coast. Each family has thier own set of "colors"
A veiw from the ramparts of Cape Coast Castle down the coast towards the next fort in the Chain. (Elmira)

A nearby national park shelters one of West Africa's remaining rainforests and we spent an entrancing night there being lulled to sleep and kept awake by the incredible diversity that threatens to overwhelm such puny visitors as I am. After some haggling and negotiation that shouldn't have happened… corruption can still be a problem even here… we arranged a guide for the early morning so we could watch for birds and experience the forest and so we enjoyed the rainforest canopy walk, 30 meters above the jungle floor, just as the sun was rising. Despite a bit of human taint, the experience was awe inspiring. I personally find the touch of God much more readily here, amongst the call of exotic birds, the hush of trees 200 or more feet tall, the chattering troops of monkeys, the soft breath of the wind and the smell of decay and regeneration than I do in any amount of fire and brimstone preaching. Yet still human kind is wantonly destroying almost all such places. Even here logging, and poaching are still a problem (often because local people don't have any other choice) and species are disappearing. We saw many beautiful birds, monkeys, and all types of flora. I will remember that place for a long time. We shared the hotel we stayed at afterwards with many crocodiles and more than 20 additional species of birds. All in all I think I've seen more bird species here than I have in my whole life up to this point.
Home away from home in the middle of the rainforest... ok.. well maybe one edge of the rainforest.
Taking in the canopy walkway at sunrise. Birds and monkeys abound. The walkway is built of extention ladders and plywood and is 40 meters up the trees. Thats only about halfway up. These are some tall trees.
Views of the jungle at sunrise.
Views of the jungle at sunrise.
Views of the jungle at sunrise.
This was probably closer than I really wanted to be... but the birds were getting closer so I figured this was safe right?

Anyway… Quite enough for now I've probably got half of you asleep J I need to be asleep soon myself so I'll call it quits though I could go on and on. If you have any questions I'll be happy to answer them. Not to long for now I'll be departing on my month long excursion of Burkina Faso, Togo and Benin and be trying out my rusty French on people who actually speak it. Wish me luck. In the meantime, I'm trying to get organized for grad school and study for the GRE amidst all the other craziness. Wish me luck for that too.


Much love and luck to everyone…
Hope to hear from you soon
Until then…Stay well
-Andy