Akwaaba! The Land Family in Accra, Ghana

"Bye, I'm Going Canada!"

2009-06-25T00:25:00.000-07:00

“Bye, I’m going

Canada

!” These were Finn’s final, jolly words to his teachers as he waved goodbye and left Little Acorns for the last time. While he does not fully appreciate the gravity of the departure or the weight of his farewell, the rest of us do…even Materia. Her last remark, whimpered to Carmilla as her eyes welled up and she made her way from Little Acorns was, “I’m holding all my crying inside.” I’m sure the rest of us will not be so strong as we prepare to depart

Ghana

, if not forever, then certainly for a very long time.

It has been everything we dared imagine, and oh so much more. From the moment we stepped off of the airplane at Kotoka International Airport and saw the word “Akwaaba!” sprawled across the airport walls, we have felt just that, welcome. The things that others said about the people of Ghana were absolutely true and there is an overall tendency towards goodness and peace here that is unsurpassed in any part of the world that I can think of (though a few pockets of Canada come quite readily to mind). At first when Douglas the driver, Matthew the security guard, Diana the housekeeper, or even the plantain chip seller referred to us as their brothers and sisters, it felt like an awkward joke, but I have learned that they meant it. And now we mean it too.

There is a song by Arrested Development called “Africa’s Inside Me” that keeps looping through my head and is swiftly becoming the title song for soundtrack of our exit from Ghana. It is taking on new meaning as I reflect on our time here (and as it plays in the van while we bob and weave through and past the pulsating streets, vibrant markets and red-earth trails of this colour-drenched country!) and despite the fact that I have long-resisted the urge to think of Africa as truly being mine, I’m starting to feel that it is. For as long as I can remember dreaming about traveling, I have felt a kind of an inertia drawing me towards Africa, and I think Carmilla would agree. I would like to believe—and choose to believe from this point forward—that it is something primal, a hearkening back to a beginning I cannot fathom, but can certainly feel in the heartsong siren call of the African drum. This, the red, yellow and green of Ghana, this black star, is very much our Africa.

And so, we are on to the next adventure that will include a return to Canada’s great north. This blog has been rewarding and the feedback has been both generous and wide-reaching—every writer loves readers (especially theirs!) and I am no exception. As this year has contained its fair share of challenges (very little of this was Ghana’s fault!), this blog was also a sustaining force in my ability to chew on every moment and every experience, and I sincerely hope that it continues to be useful and enjoyed. For now, I too am holding all my crying inside, right next to the place where I will keep Africa. Bye, I’m going Canada!

Africa’s inside me

taking back her child

she’s giving me my pride

and setting me free

(Arrested Development)

Where to Eat in Accra

2009-06-22T00:32:00.000-07:00

Okay, I must confess at the outset that I am no food critic. One glance at my rather "robust" frame, however, will soon reveal that I am an experienced enjoyer of food so I feel at least somewhat qualified to make a few recommendations regarding "Where to Eat in Accra." I should also admit that we were a little slow to get around to a number of the better restaurants, as fine dining is not generally the answer to the question "What should we do for fun?" when you have four young children (sorry kids...we don't love you less for it!). That said, once we had a child-minder we could trust and some good friends to break bread with, we were into local gastronomic scene with mucho gusto.

Top prize has to go to Osteria/Michelangelo's, a remarkable little Italian restaurant in Airport Residential with several different names. If it were a lesser restaurant, the apparently obsessive tendency towards re-naming itself would be unforgivable, but since the owner is attentive, the menu a masterpiece, the wine list unparalleled, and the ambiance the stuff of wedding proposals, it is easy to forgive such indulgences. Considering the meal that was laid before us--inconceivable in Ghana on many fronts--and the ever-crashing cedi, this restaurant is a bargain and a must-eat in Accra. The appetizers--some of which included imported buffalo mozzarella--made us feel we had won the food lottery and when the main course came, it was like...well, winning a bigger lottery after winning the lottery. (Pretty fancy use of language, eh? That's why I am an English teacher and a sometimes poet.)

Prior to our trip to Osteria, Monsoon was the first real stand-out for us and we were quick to return for heaping helpings of some of the tastiest sushi we've ever had. I can't honestly say whether the sushi was so much better because we were in a serious state of withdrawal, or because it was actually that good, but memorable meals are as much about company, context, and craving as anything else, and our first trip to this little culinary heaven in Osu delivered on all three fronts. I'm told that other things on the surprisingly varied menu are as good or better than the sushi, but we haven't been able to bring ourselves to order them thus far.

Our regular, most consistently dependable lunch hour haunt is Josie's Cuppa Cappuccino in Airport Residential. There are other excellent lunchtime eateries including Melting Moments and Sunshine Salads, but Josie's always won for us for its location (close to work and tucked into a quiet residential street), for its very reasonable prices, and even for its art (including paintings by local artist Borlabie). It will surprise most of our readers that we mostly opted for delicious, fresh pineapple-coconut-banana smoothies over the also-delicious coffee. Our favourites were the bacon and avocado burger and the chicken, bacon avocado sandwich, but it's all good!

A family favourite and our "local" restaurant on Spintex was La Galette. Do not let the traffic on Spintex scare you away from this little slice of Paris in Accra! The baguettes and croissants are the best you'll find this side of France and the seafood pasta is to die for. This was a regular weekend morning treat where we would spend a little quality time with one or two of the kids. Of course it was always a bit of a verbal tug-of-war to see which grown-up would get to go and have an Americano and a still-warm-from-the-oven chocolate croissant!

There are a surprising number of pretty good restaurants in Accra and I know I have overlooked many, but these were the ones that served us well during our stay in Ghana. I feel I should pass along a few honourable mentions, so here goes. La Chaumiere on Liberation is easy to get to and serves up old world France in a pretty little converted house, that fills up in a hurry. Our "best pizza" award would have to go to the Shangri-La as we had it every Tuesday at the school while waiting for Brontë's ballet class to end. Papaye quickly became our family's equivalent of McDonald's, especially since we passed it every day on the way home (they have at least one other location that I know of). You will not, however, find anything like their grilled fish skewers and fried rice on the McD's menu for roughly the same price and there is no need to super size--the portions are heroic! In the mall, Frankie's is a good bet (the original is in Osu) and Rhapsody's is pricey but reliable, but the Nigerian eba and egusi in Tante Maria gets our vote! Bon appetit!

Taekwondo at the British Council

2009-06-15T08:06:00.000-07:00

While the title speaks for itself on most levels, it does not convey the surreal nature of witnessing such a spectacle, particularly when it involves one's very own children. As part of the Cambridge Examinations exhibition, Tall Oaks was invited to stage a couple of demonstrations. As Taekwondo was selected and Brontë and Cohen are members of the class, they became a part of the show at the British Council. We headed out on a recent Saturday morning to infiltrate one of Britain's inner sanctums here in Ghana and we were not disappointed. There were a number of British-affiliated schools represented at the event and overall it went very well. It was especially nice to see how excited Materia and Finn were to get to see their teachers on a Saturday! What is it that happens to the young mind that shifts their perspective from "teacher as rock star" to "teacher as plague"? These are the questions recurring for a high school principal...

The Council (as I understand it) is the public arm of the British Embassy here in Ghana and they describe their mission as building "engagement and trust for the UK" which is a rather interesting and telling pursuit in a post-colonial nation. I shouldn't poke any fun as I think the work they do in Ghana and other countries is valuable, and I think Ghana has--at least to a great extent and quite generously--forgiven past invaders for many of their historical transgressions. From what I could see, the Council serves as a resource, education and development centre in Accra, and I think they have an office in Kumasi as well.

I am honestly amazed at what Cohen and Bronte (both yellow belts now) have learned after a year and I hope they want to continue in our next community, assuming it's available. The level of focus and discipline they showed was commendable and Cohen even got to break a board for the audience, so he was especially pleased. Sorry, but the pictures I took of the board-breaking were mostly of other people's heads (the pictures, not the breaking!) so I couldn't use them here--you'll just have to visualize! The demo was so well received that they were called upon to do an encore in the back garden so that the Council representatives could also witness it. Alas, all the boards had already been broken, so the climax lost a bit of its punch (pun intended!), but that didn't stop the kids (and their parents) from looking pretty darn proud. This was another one of those "things I never thought I'd be seeing or doing in Ghana" kind of experiences, that I'm glad we all had.

Unique Ceramics

2009-06-12T00:29:00.000-07:00

Akwaaba! As part of a friend's birthday celebrations, Bronte, Materia and Carmilla had a chance to visit Unique Pottery to turn clay into creation. The workshop is located behind the Unique Pottery shop in Accra, which is very close to Wild Gecko, and it is possible, I think, for anyone to book the facilities for some hands-on fun. As I was not there to witness events unfold firsthand, this entry may be somewhat limited and highly inaccurate, but the pictures are good, so I'll give it a go. I have it on sound authority, however, that good times were had by all.

Everyone at the party got a chance to use the wheel, some molds, and Maxwell was the instructor for the session. Due to the fact that I am simple-minded and completely immature, I could not help but picture scenes from Ghost For a two hour session, including all materials, the instructor, and firing, it was four cedis per child, which is pretty darn reasonable. It should be noted that in a true Ghanaian turn of events, we were warned that we may not get our pottery before we leave Ghana because they do not currently have anyone to fire it!

I think the owner's name is Happy Ideall (wow, Ghana has hippy love children too) and he is a friendly guy. He apparently has another shop in the area that he runs with his wife, though the name escapes me at the moment. The area where the facilities are located is called Okponglo (try saying that five times fast!) and it is home to a number of local arts and crafts shops where goods are made and sold on location. Most notably is Wild Gecko Handicrafts, where imported (from all over Africa) and locally produced, high quality goods are sold. Most of the shops in the area (and in Ghana, for that matter) will fill custom orders for little or no extra money. Most are run as collectives, with the artisans and craftspeople directly involved. It is always a bonus when you can spend a Saturday morning having a little birthday fun, while spending money sustainably!

Accra's Best Kept (Family-Friendly) Secret

2009-06-09T00:19:00.000-07:00

As you peruse this blog entry and scan the pictures, you will undoubtedly say to yourself: Big deal, another petting zoo and playground…whoop-de-doo! This may be an appropriate response in most parts of Canada, but in the context of Ghana, and more specifically in the big, stinky, family black hole of a city that is Accra, the Botanical Gardens at the University of Ghana are nothing short of a miracle. Open every day but Monday, there is much to see and do for the whole darn clan! There is a lot of thoughtful development going on at the park and before long it will be the crown jewel of Accra, at least for families. (Especially since the zoo was bulldozed--some say it was relocated but we haven’t found it yet--to make way for the Presidential Palace!)

Admission to the gardens was a mere two cedis per adult and one cedi per child, conjuring memories of, and comparisons to, the ever-so-reasonable kiddie rides at Kinsmen Park in Saskatoon. A ten minute horse ride garnered an additional one cedi, which is roughly ninety-nine dollars less than a trail ride in Canada will cost you. The petting zoo had Guinea pigs, rabbits, ducks, Guinea fowl, horses, donkeys, egrets, a fish hatchery, baby alligators, rats (Carmilla's hands-down favourite), and apparently a bush rat, though we did not see on this trek. We like to think of ourselves as petting zoo connoisseurs, having graced the manure trodden pathways of dozens of such parks across three continents, and on this day I can only say that while we have seldom felt more gratified (think glass of murky ditch water after two weeks in the desert without!), we chose, on this fine Sunday, to keep our eyes on the potential, rather than solely on the comparative reality.

Top prize for the day simply has to go to the playground. It has actual, fabricated, safe, fun playground equipment that has not been made by a roadside hawker with a couple of trees, a machete, and some leftover paint. It also has, as the photos will surely reveal, a few grown-up sized bits o' fun that ensure everyone is engaged and included. To give you a sense of how starved we are for parks, playgrounds and city infrastructure of any kind, we'd have paid double and waited in line just to play in the playground!

At least somewhat ironically, the botanical side of things seems a bit worse for wear but we didn’t venture too far into the park, so there could be gems of the flora kingdom tucked further in, as yet undiscovered by our family. There was a sizable lake that also serves as a lively fish hatchery and favourite haunt of about a zillion egrets that loom nearby, hoping the hatchery nets suddenly disintegrate as if by hope alone. There are boat rides available out across the lake, though we did not enquire as to the cost or nature of such an excursion, since the boat man was thoroughly engaged in Ghana's hot-part-of-the-day national pastime (pictured below).

Our time was capped off with a good meal at the restaurant inside the gardens and in keeping with a Ghanaian sense of Murphy's or Sod's Law, the food was exceptionally fast due to the fact that our children had an enormous, well-equipped playground and various free-roaming animals to keep them occupied.

Lou Part Two

2009-06-02T07:13:00.000-07:00

Akwaaba! As we are not long for this country now, this will undoubtedly be one of my last blog entries for Ghana. It was probably inevitable that the number of entries would diminish as time wore on, and that there would be some repetition, so I hope you will indulge me as I re-visit LouMoon Lodge. Unlike so many sequels, our second trip to LouMoon Lodge at Axim was every bit as fulfilling as the first and I dare say that it outshone on many levels, particularly since our good friends were along for the sun and sand. We booked months in advance for a national holiday weekend, and even though it was the rainy season (theoretically, I'm pleased to report...more on the weather in a bit), I think we were wise to have done so, as it seemed to be fully booked.

Last time we stayed in a "Hillside" chalet which was a little more private and had two separate rooms, but it was away from the beach, had little in terms of view, and didn't have an outdoor lounging area. It was, in its defense, less expensive. This time round we booked the two lower rooms in the Bayview Chalet and were all the happier for it. Despite the fact that there were twelve of us in two rooms (our friends also have four children), the rooms were so large that we fit comfortably. These rooms had the added perks of hot water, individual patios, breathtaking views of LouMoon's private bay, and the chalet is just steps from the private beach, the beach volleyball court, and the restaurant.

In practical, plain, family terms, this meant that at any given time we could pretty much see the children and we didn't have to venture too far for pee breaks, band-aids, time outs, naps, wine refills, snacks, or forgotten beach toys. I must be forthright and admit that our enjoyment hinged on the cooperation of the weather, which was pretty darn reasonable for the duration of our stay, despite being warned when we booked about the threat of the rainy season. Due to the fact that the kids could always be outside interacting with one another, it made for some quality time for the grown-ups. It also meant that all the wee ones were completely tuckered out and were sound asleep (for the most part...remembering that there were eight children ten and under!) shortly after supper. The big people would convene under the stars on the patio, accompanied by the rush of the ocean and one or two refreshments, like the signature Bailey's Moon that was at least as delicious as (I'm sure) it could be dangerous!

We were at LouMoon for a little less time, but we spent almost all of that time on the beach. The water can still be a bit rough, even in the bay, but the current shifts often enough that it tends not to last. The tide also brings in its fair share of garbage, so it is rather handy that LouMoon has a "back-up" private beach some 150 yards upsand, and that the two beaches never seem to be under seige with debris at the same time. The highlight for us this time was that we spent a good chunk of our last morning snorkeling in the rocks near the other beach and were rewarded for our efforts with an ocean full of life and colour. We also made good use of the sea kayaks and Finn is always game when there is a soccer ball to be kicked.

If the weather was poor, I could see someone feeling that the five hour journey--littered with enthusiastic police ready to "process" you unless you "give them something"--was not worth it, but we have been very lucky in that the trip was worth it, twice! Friends we met before Christmas (now in Nepal) had said that LouMoon was one of the things they'd remember most fondly about their time in Ghana and I think we will have to agree. It was exceptional, affordable, and breathtaking.

Ghana on Stilts!

2009-05-22T06:49:00.000-07:00

The village of Nzulezo in the Western Region of Ghana, is one of the country's best known tourist attractions primarily because the entire village--church, bars, schools and homes--is on stilts. Add to this the fact that we had to first slosh in through muddy, warm, standing water to get to the canoes that we then had to paddle (our four not-so-enthusiastic children in tow!) in to the village for about forty minutes, and you've got a recipe for family fun and lasting memories. To be fair, given the infinite number of things that could have gone horribly wrong, this little excursion went off pretty smoothly.

We embarked for the launch point from the Ankasa Wetlands wildlife office (conveniently located next to Beyin Beach Resort where you should go for lunch and stay!) and as it was the dry season, we had to drive in a ways to get to the canal that opens onto the lake where the village is. After some good, old-fashioned mud-bogging (my Lundar brother would have been proud) and a few tests of the credibility of the guides who were urging me on, we arrived at what would have looked like a boat launch, had there been any boats! You can imagine Carmilla's delight (having read in several places about the horrors of standing water in Africa) when we were told that we had to wade to the boats. Of course in true Ghanaian-style, this little tidbit was reserved for this moment, rather than for the moment before we paid! We spent a moment gazing at one another thoughtfully (and lovingly, I'm sure) before we took a collective deep breath and hit the water.

To save you some cheap suspense, no one fell in. In fact, the canoe ride through the forest and then out across the lake was tranquil, stunning, and pristine. There were a few children fishing along the shores and the children took turns paddling as we approached the village. The climb up into the village was a bit precarious and I'm never sure they had my particular physical build in mind as they assembled the ladders and walkways, but we spent some time walking down Main Street in the village on stilts. Children followed us around and we met the Chief's representative so we could sign in and we made a small donation to the school fund.

I have read and heard of several people who count this as a singularly memorable experience and it is to some extent if for nothing other than its uniqueness, but for all intents and purposes it is just another village once you get past the stilts. Unlike some of the eco-village tours, there aren't really any demonstrations, and much of the history of the village has been lost. While there is some agreement about the inhabitants being displaced from another country, no one is exactly sure how or why the village came to be on stilts. When we were there, it was mostly only above ground, but during the rainy season, it is essentially surrounded by water.

I have to say that I also felt even more like an intruder than I usually do, and I couldn't say there was a feeling of welcome (though Finn's always received like a rock star wherever we go!). I suspect that the village has been told that they must do this, and I'm sure it brings some money into the village, but there is nowhere to escape the prying eyes of tourism, and I'm sure it is a relatively constant irritant. If we hadn't been enjoying ourselves so thoroughly at Axim, and if we hadn't been able to do this as a fairly reasonable day trip from our home base at LouMoon, I'm sure I wouldn't be able to recommend it. That said, if you plan to be in the area, it is worth a look (and a little paddling/wading).

Love Letter to Beyin Beach Resort

2009-05-12T07:45:00.000-07:00

Akwaaba! It is often said that sometimes the very best things come to us when we aren’t looking. Beyin Beach Resort is one such example of this, as all we were really looking for when we found it was a half decent lunch in a remote area of Ghana; what we found was an idyllic wedge of seaside heaven that will undoubtedly lead the list of favourite memories had under the Ghanaian sun. The resort’s owners, a couple with two children of their own (who became fast friends with our children over our first extended lunch!) have perfectly captured the easygoing, family-friendly ambiance that we crave when we travel. There was enough space not only for our children, but also for our noise, so that those with a more intimate, leisurely retreat in mind were not quietly muttering invectives every time our children squealed past (or so I'd like to believe)!

The beach is obviously the main attraction at the resort, and I cannot overstate how many things it has going for it. It is likely the most accessible bit of ocean in Ghana, as there is some sort of sand shelf that serves as a buffer for waves and undertow that drown more than a few people at other beaches every year. The resort is a good distance from the two nearest villages on either side, and both made for good barefoot trek destinations along the shore. The nearest village is also home to Fort Appolonia, another historic slave trade building that is in very good condition, which we were able to tour the inside of. We collected many unique shells, including dozens of sand dollars (we hadn’t found these elsewhere so the kids were especially enthusiastic about these) and the resort has a pretty impressive collection of their own that includes whale vertebrae! While we were too late for the nesting of sea turtles that happens in the area, we still managed to learn quite a lot as it is soon hatching time and the resort is also a dedicated conservation point for the turtles.

We stayed in one of the two cabana-style, thatched roof chalets, and paid a mere 70 Ghana cedis a night for both of the adjoining rooms in the unit. Each of the rooms had a four poster bed so huge that it comfortably slept our three oldest (no small accomplishment having Cohen and Bronte comfortably co-habitate!). The whole front wall of the room opened up via shuttered doors, to a small, private porch and a long view of the ocean. While our first night was a vomit-filled tribute to parenthood and our second a fanless dedication to the Electricity Company of Ghana, we still managed to survive thanks to ample space, comfortable digs, and generous breezes from the ocean.

As I originally suggested, we went there looking or a good meal some weeks ago when at the nearby stilt village of Nzulezo and were quickly taken with the simple, homey traveller’s retreat that was nestled behind the fence adjacent to tourism office. They had us at "Akwaaba!" and we settled into the open air restaurant for a hearty meal. As we were already booked into LouMoon (a gem in its own right, though in a much higher price bracket), we couldn't stop in longer, but we booked a couple of nights for the next bank holiday weekend. Needless to say, the menu is excellent as we not only managed to feed our gang of six for forty-eight hours, but we also did so with variety and food group representation! It didn't hurt that we all became seriously addicted to fresh-squeezed orange juice made from the locally grown, sinfully sweet fruit. My new adage is "Everything's better with garlic mayo (except my heart and my breath)!" We honestly did not manage to try everything on the menu that we wanted to and this is a tremendous accomplishment for any restaurant in Ghana!

The resort has beach volleyball, a separate playhouse and sandbox for the kids (next to the restaurant), DVD players and movies to rent, a well-stocked lending library, a couple of common areas for conversations, reading or board games (they have several to borrow), and there are also more rustic cottages for backpackers and NGO workers that run considerably less, but still have access to hot showers! If you are traveling in the area, you should stay at Beyin Beach Resort. If you are visiting the stilt village, you should eat there. If you have the luxury of time on your hands, you should book an extended stay and spend your hours imaging a life there (not unlike, I'm sure, the owners themselves did once upon a time). If it's your birthday while your there, like it was mine, call ahead and they might just bake you a cake and save you a hammock on the beach!

Fort Sao Antonio, Axim

2009-04-30T00:45:00.000-07:00

When I save the edited pictures for my blog, they go into a folder named Ghana Highlights, though in the case of such "attractions" as the colonial Fort Sao Antonio in Axim, the title doesn't feel exactly appropriate. The fort has been many things in its roughly five hundred year history, but most unforgettably it was a part of the capture and trade of millions upon millions of Africans throughout the continent. Lesser known and somewhat smaller than its slightly older cousin at Elmina, this historic building feels a little more quaint and undiscovered, and we had it entirely to ourselves, except for our remarkably well-informed and patient guide.

Built by the Portuguese in the sixteenth century, the fort was soon captured by the Dutch and eventually fell into the hands of the British, before being returned to the people of Ghana just over fifty years ago (to coincide with Independence). This fort was by no means as extravagant (for the chosen few) as some of its larger counterparts, but its past was just as dark. We were shown the almost lightless, relatively airless cells where dozens of men, women and children were stacked into to await trips through the point of no return, if they lived that long. The guide kept reminding us that they would be locked away for "three good months," with the dead. In this case, the point of no return involved a drop into a lower chamber, followed by a march to the nearby lighthouse island, where they were picked up. Many were traded for salt or other goods provided at the fort and it was thought that most people had no idea where their relatives were going. It was often thought to be a better life--how mistaken they were.

The most significant point of the tour for Brontë (who is becoming a romantic well before either of her parents are ready to deal with!) was the story about the director of the fort who fell to his death after seeing a beautiful captive being marched across to the island. He is the buried in one of the fort courtyards, leaving only his tomb and his somewhat suspect story to remember him by. This is the view from the place where he was reputed to have fallen from.

I would have to say that Axim, for its part as a former port town and thriving fishing village, has fared reasonably well and is much prettier town than Elmina. There are several noteworthy colonial age buildings that stand out from atop the fort's walls, including an early bank and a hotel. I don't think tourists are nearly as common out this way so people were content to let us wander around pretty much undisturbed. Of course we had several dozen children and a few adults who offered to watch our lone vehicle in parking lot. While we did hand out a few cedis worth of "dashes" (and a pack of Mentos gum) when we were leaving, these were the only people around and we could almost always see the van from the roof, so it was more of gesture than a necessity.

The learning associated with visits to locales such as the forts is not easy, but it has been an important part of our family's cultural and historic learning while in Africa. I'm sure each of us will take away something different, but I have a much deeper sense of what it means to be a developing nation. That is to say, I know the legacy and damage done, and more about what exactly Ghana--and so many other African nations--are developing from. It was always an uphill climb and this nation has really only been at it, on its very own terms, for a little over fifty years. How long does it take to re-build a nation or a people? Canada might do well to ask such questions regarding our First Nations population.

In Celebration of Ghanaian (Un)Spring!

2009-04-27T06:16:00.000-07:00

Wow, I have really been remiss in updating my blog, but life, school and Easter Break (I was going to say "Spring Break" but Ghana has no spring!) intervened. Needless to say, we chose to celebrate spring--in honour of our still-thawing, winter-weary, damp, Canadian friends and family--the same way we celebrate everything here: by going to the beach! This time we outdid ourselves and booked into the LouMoon Lodge, a rustic, secluded traveller's retreat that occupies a stretch of what is reputedly one of the nicest lengths of beachfront in West Africa! We stayed for three dreamy nights and four sunny days at this tropical nirvana, and we were rewarded for it at every turn with what will undoubtedly stand out among our African experiences for some time to come.

The lodge and dwellings were constructed by a European designer who has since moved on to other projects, leaving it to be managed by our ever-competent and attentive host, Timo. The open-air, world-inspired restaurant is the gathering place and centerpiece for what is an all-round perfectly planned paradise for the backpacker-made-good. We stayed in a hillside bungalow and have already booked to return, next time moving up in the world to a Bayside Suite that has an uninterrupted view of LouMoon's private bay. The prices are reasonable, given what is on offer, but there is an overall commitment to simplicity and conservation that is admirable and appealing, especially in Ghana. While this might turn the average tourist off, it is certainly a traveller's delight. The one big drawback for us was that self-catering was discouraged (and even forbidden) and it really added up with four children tallying "world restaurant" bills at every meal. We actually avoided the resort at lunch (breakfast was included and conspicuously ordinary, given the quality of the meals we paid for!) and just came for supper, usually accompanied by a staggering sunset across the sea.

As there are only about ten rooms in total at LouMoon, there is no such thing as busy, and there is always plenty to do. There is a full-sized volleyball court (on average, we're still a little small for such pursuits) and other outdoor games, and the sea kayaks were very popular with our clan. It was impossible to tire of playing in the sand, swimming, snorkeling, and beach combing, but we may have gone through a gallon or two of sunscreen as the Ghanian sun is force to be respected. The kids managed to complete various castles and sand sculptures while there, and depending on the weather and tides, the bay makes for a reasonably safe beach. We did, however, break the beach time up by managing a couple of day trips to the (relatively) nearby stilt village and an impressive fort in Axim (blogs to follow).

It would be difficult to make it as far as Axim and LouMoon, from Accra, for an overnight, but even two nights offers up one full day of heaven. We checked out other options in the area and are planning to visit Beyin Beach Resort for a couple of nights in the near future as well, having discovered it. We discovered it when registering at the guide station for Nzulezo and the Amansuri Wetlands. We had a memorable, inexpensive, kid-friendly lunch, something of a rarity in Ghana. It is relatively new and hasn't really "made" the Bradt guide as yet, but it should for the next edition! We'll let you know more about it after our stay!

Pottery...Ghanaian Style

2009-04-04T03:52:00.001-07:00

Akwaaba! One of our favourite things in the world is pottery (as some of dearest friends well know!), so when we read about the unique Kpando Women's Pottery Collective in the Volta region, we had to check it out. As with many things in Ghana, it took healthy doses of patience and perseverance first to find the Fesi pottery shed, and then to find someone around who actually had the key to the shop. We could see a number of flawed and unfinished pieces outside of the shop, and we were able to peek into the shop, and what we saw reinforced our resolve to stick it out. We were not disappointed once we finally got inside as there was wealth of beautiful, functional pottery filling every inch of available space. Of course we had to run a tag-team, high alert surveillance operation to keep Finn at bay while we took turns working our way through the collective's wares, but as always, it was a labour of (mostly) love.

Most of the pottery we've fond in Ghana is highly uniform, and strictly functional, so we haven't bought much aside from a couple of simple bowls and small pots. That is why we were pleasantly surprised to discover such a wealth and variety of completely unique pottery in the village of Fesi. It struck us that there must have been some outside influence somewhere along the line, as there was a decidedly Euro-western flair to the items on display. Any one of the objects could have been found at an artsy little Montreal boutique, or a Saturday market on Vancouver Island, or a garden shop in England, and I was trying to imagine some of the objects on the mud-sill of the average village window.

The process was explained to us by one of the women who opened up for us. Due to the fact that it is often hot and dry, and because of the nature of the soil in West Africa, the clay that the potters buy from the local market is completely dry and very course. They basically have to pound it using a giant mortar and pestle until it is broken down into a finer consistency that can be mixed with water. Kilns consist of a square hole in the ground where the fire is built, over which the pieces are placed, and a small brick house is built around. Combine intense labour with intense heat, and you've got a recipe not only for pottery, but also for a day's work in the lives of many Ghanaians!

The cooperative is itself quite unique as it is made up of dozens of mothers, most of whom are apparently single parents, and all of whom have an aptitude for pottery. I think there are opportunities to volunteer with the collective, and some of their goods are sold online and abroad under a Fair Trade arrangement. In the end, we only bought a couple of small, functional items as the pottery seems to be quite brittle and we weren't sure we could trust the baggage handlers to be gentle with it! This is yet another example of eco-tourism gone very right and we are certainly glad we persevered.

Larabanga and Beyond!

2009-03-31T06:49:00.000-07:00

Akwaaba! Some of the oldest structures in Ghana are reputed to be the mud and stick mosques. Many of these religious buildings are found in the north of the country, where the greatest concentration of Muslims resides. Most of the remaining structures are still in use to varying degrees, and some are dated as far back as the thirteenth century. Though these dates are often disputed (some even suggest they should be earlier), one cannot deny their significance and architectural pedigree, particularly in the midst of villages that have few structures that are built to last. It is rarely possible to see the mosques from the roadside, and they are usually part of village tours, though there are degrees of legitimacy to these operations and it is possible to be left feeling that the hassle is not worth it. The cost is generally a small donation to the mosque's Imam and I wouldn't be surprised (based in part on the modest clothing and dwellings of the Imam's I met) if all of the money donated goes towards restoration and maintenance. There can be an extra charge for taking pictures, and in some cases no photography is allowed.

The small village of Larabanga, near Mole National Park, is best known for its mud-and-stick mosque which is believed to be the oldest in West Africa. Again, it is difficult to say for sure how old it is, though there is some agreement around a date in the fifteenth century. It is also home to a copy of the Qur'an that is said to be as old as the mosque! The mosque is a common site on web pages, brochures and in guide books, and it is probably the most famous building Ghana, at least from an outsider's perspective. We were toured around the village by a guide who was recommended by Moses, our Mognori village host. If I recall, I donated a few cedis to the Imam and a couple more to our guide, who toured us through the village and answered questions about village life. He left us with the impression that money given to him goes to community projects but one can never be sure.

These last two pictures were taken in Wa, where there are two mud-and-stick mosques in close proximity to one another. As you can see they are quite similar to Larabanga, with the main difference being that people are allowed into the mosque. In fact, I was encouraged to tunnel my way up to the roof, using a crude ladder pole, where I could see out over Wa. There were dozens of kids following me, laughing as I risked getting my hippo-sized arse stuck in a hole that seemed to be made for small goats (as evidenced by the number of goats on the roof and the number of turds I put my hand in on the way up). The newer and larger mosque can be seen in the distance. Although there are a number of mosques in Accra (none nearly as old), we did not know very much about the Islamic faith aside from the various (mostly derogatory) images offered to us via media. While it is said that the Muslims of Ghana are quite liberal in their views and practices, what struck us was how friendly and welcoming they were--sort of like almost every other Ghanaian we have met. I also found it a bit surprising that not only do Muslims and Christians co-exist, but they do so peacefully. There is a lesson here.

Kente!

2009-03-21T02:17:00.000-07:00

One of the highlights of our recent trip up into the heart the Ghana's Volta Region was a quick pit stop in the traditional kente weaving village of Tafi Abuipe. The cloth from this very small village, nestled between two major roads, is shipped worldwide and is definitely the centre of this life in this bustling West African village. When we turned off of the highway, we weren't sure what we were in for, but as usual, we were rewarded with a worthwhile and stimulating learning experience (not to mention a few lengths of beautiful kente) that will be with us for some time to come.

This village runs as an eco-tourism project and when we arrived we were greeted by a young man who was to be our host and tour guide. He is one of the young people who--because of the profits from kente--was able to go to senior secondary school outside of the village, and as a result he has one of the more important jobs in the community. He explained the process as he toured us around and we met several of the young weavers. It was a Saturday morning so all of the looms were humming. Each symbol or pattern has traditional significance and there seemed an infinite number of patterns. Tools and looms were all hand carved and the speed with which the weavers worked, while maintaining intricate, repeating patterns was truly remarkable. They only every weave stretches of kente that are about four inches wide, so larger pieces of cloth are stitched together for clothing and household use.

Basically, each village family has as many looms as it can sustain and the covered workshops are filled with family members. We were obviously surprised to learn (okay, not that surprised) that children start in the family business at just seven years old. At that age they begin doing small supportive tasks like hauling and spooling thread, and watching their older siblings in a sort of an apprenticeship. They do, thankfully, still go to school full time and I expect that most of them flock to class as the weaving looks to be quite tedious. As Bronte is eight, I think she most felt the impact of seeing these children working at her age, instead of spending free time playing or (a-hem) travelling around Ghana with her family. It would be easy for us to be critical or horrified, but it is a family business like any other and I was immediately put in mind of the family farm, where child labour is both necessary and character-building.

I have seen kente cloth in shops around not only Accra, but also in many other places. I'm certain I've seen it in the Forks, or other such markets in Canada. Until now I really never understood its true significance. It is yet another possibility for those who wish to spend their money mindfully, with sustainable intention. As I have often said to students, every dollar counts when it comes to the future and well-being of the planet. To be honest, I have no idea what we will do with the stunning, but impractical lengths of colour we purchased, but I suspect they've already done their most important work whether they end up on a wall or not. This message was brought to you by Tafi Abuipe Kente-Weaving Village. They thank you for your support!

Beads, Beads, and More Beads

2009-03-17T06:05:00.000-07:00

In Ghana, there is a rich history within the manufacture and trade of traditional and contemporary jewelry. While the Ashanti Region is best known for jewelry made of gold (much of it is brass today), the Eastern Region lays claim to beads, particularly those made from glass. We have passed this little annex of the Cedi Bead factory several times, and decided it was time we stopped. We could certainly find beads in Accra, but this shop is very close to the source of production, and dollars spent close to the communities producing goods tend to go even further than NGO money seems to.

We have at least one friend who makes jewelry, so we had fun doing a bit of a shop for her, and the kids wanted to buy bracelets to give as gifts to friends. Of course we already love shopping in West Africa and since we have have more baggage space on the way back than we had on the way here, we're not shy about making purchases. A large string of beads was between 1 and 4 cedis, depending on the time invested and the size of the beads. All of the beads are made manually, many are hand painted, evidenced by the fact that no two beads are alike! They have a binder explaining the process and the person in the shop was reasonably knowledgeable but the bead factory is quite close by, so I'm sure we'll venture there as well at some point. There are also a couple of once-a-week bead trading markets that are supposed to be rather remarkable, so we'll try to hit one of those as well, though they tend to happen during the week.

The Long and Winding Road to Wli Falls

2009-03-11T07:03:00.000-07:00

As our year in Ghana begins to draw to a close, we are trying to check off a few last destinations before we depart. This past weekend we loaded up the kids and we drove to Ghana's Wli (the Ghanaian pronunciation of Wli is actually vlee so the Beverly Hillbillies allusion works), said to be West Africa's tallest waterfall. Like many things in Ghana, this "fact" comes straight from the unsubstantiated authority of the guides at the falls, who have seldom, if ever, been to another waterfall in West Africa. As the falls are situated amidst the elevated forests of the mountains (that partly form the border with Togo), I think tallest is referring more to their elevation above sea level than to the distance from top to bottom. Whatever the case, grand claims cannot diminish or heighten the awesome spectacle of nature that is the Wli Falls.

The drive to Wli took several hours (including several stops and shops) and took us through the beautiful hills of the Volta Region. We stayed at a decent hotel in Hohoe, and made our way to the falls in the morning. The trek into the falls took about forty-five minutes in (uphill) and more like thirty minutes out (downhill and we were hungry). The hike in reminded us of many we had taken on Vancouver Island, and while the pathway steadily climbs, it is relatively cool, breezy, and clean. We crossed nine bridges along the ample footpath on the way up. The counting kept Materia more than amused while Finn kept himself and his parents thoroughly occupied by threatening to fall into the water through or off of those rather dodgily constructed bridges.

We deliberately tried to get to the falls before the rainy season sets in as the power and the spray of the falls makes it more difficult to hike in or even get close to the falls. We did not brave the popular hike to the upper falls as it is much more demanding and we were not up for carrying the two little ones the distance. Apparently there is also a pool at the top that is beautiful for swimming. The area at the base of the falls was one of the first where we actually imagined ourselves having a picnic and we were invited to join a Ghanaian family that had hauled in lunch with them. The kids played in the shallows at the base of the falls and explored the rocky pathways leading to the mountain wall, and we all enjoyed the fresh, misty spray from the falls. This is one of Ghana's most popular tourist destinations, and it is pretty obvious as you drive through the village responsible and it is easy to see why!

To Market, To Market

2009-03-05T01:05:00.001-08:00

Akwaaba! One of my favourite things about Ghana is the ever-present market life. In Accra, there are markets dedicated to art, flower pots, obruni wawu (clothing of white people), food, beads, car parts, housewares, furniture and many other things. It's like living in one, big, open air market where life is one negotiation after another. Once we got to know the real prices of things, and the culture of bargaining (Ghanaians love and expect it...but it can be a little intimidating as they tend to be very passionate) it became even more fun to dive in and start haggling.

We have a tendency to steer clear of the larger markets that have absolutely everything in them as they are noisy, dirty, congested and chaotic, especially with four kids in tow. Carmilla went to Makola market, which covers a huge area in Accra, and she found it pretty overwhelming. At the time, we still had Douglas the driver, who would translate the comments and complaints of those nearby. Most memorably, it started to drizzle while Carmilla was moving through the market (Finn in his stroller) and the women were shouting insults at her for being a wicked woman who kept her children in the rain. It put her off Makola for a while. I have been to the Tetteh Quarshie art market several times and the concentration of clothing, fabric, carvings, jewelry and painting is rather remarkable and the sellers are not too invasive or aggressive.

Most of pictures in this entry were taken at the weekend Spintex market, which is predominantly made up of household goods, meat and produce, and second hand clothing. We are something of a novelty here as obruni are rare at this market, and many people did not want their pictures taken (I usually ask). People will pick the kids up or touch their hair, and everyone is generally very friendly. The market is filled with women and their children, and has a real sense of community and order to it, despite the overriding aura of chaos. If you can get over the surroundings, the market can be a very effective means for eating cheaply and locally. The quality is generally very good, especially since a lot of produce has a season that lasts for most or all of the year. Pineapple, for example, is always in season and it usually costs 1 cedi (about a dollar) for a couple of pineapples. Juice is cheap locally, and Fan ice cream and yoghurt are common, so we often make the best-tasting, least expensive smoothies we've ever had. Tomatoes are very common and are definitely a staple food in Ghana, with several producers of tomato-based goods right here in Ghana.

Obviously we wash everything thoroughly (there is little evidence of food handling or personal hygiene, but this is a developing nation and the average Ghanaian seems to have a higher tolerance for germs than we do) and we stay away from some items such as the open air, non-refrigerated meat that looks a bit suspect to our Western eyes. Now that we have employed a woman, Diana, to help around the house, we are pretty specific about what she should buy from the market and what we will buy from the grocery store. Of course when she buys things at the market for us, the prices are even lower and since hiring her, our grocery bill has dropped significantly. Combine this with the fact that we eat out less often because she can cook most of the Ghanaian dishes--red-red and fried plantain, palava sauce, tomato or egg or groundnut stew, chicken and jollof rice, etc.--that we would be likely to buy in a restaurant, and we are actually wealthier for having hired her. (As we spend so much time in traffic, the value of coming home to a clean house and a hot meal is also immeasurable!)

Not unlike Canada, each region of Ghana is known for different produce and goods so anytime we travel we will pass buy hundreds of almost-identical market stalls. If we pull over, we quickly get swarmed by people selling the same items, for the same price, but I'm sure that spending our money at these roadside stalls is better for the local producers and growers, and I know it's better for the environment. We are planning a couple of specific trips before the end of the year and intend to buy beads, baskets and pottery in the market of the regions that are known for them. To market, to market, to buy a...

Mognori Eco-Village

2009-03-02T04:59:00.000-08:00

Eco-tourism is on the rise in Ghana, and until we went to Mognori eco-village, near Mole National Park, I'm not sure we knew exactly what it was. It is basically an approach to tourism that uses funds raised to directly sustain the communities in which it is based (at least in Ghana). In this instance there are a few key people who oversee guided tours of a working village. This is not one of those Simpsons-like set-ups whereby the locals dress up for tourists, perform, and then go back to the suburbs, this offers a real glimpse of village life in West Africa. It is possible to arrange for home stays in family homes in the village, but we opted for the daytime tour, later returning for the drum and dance demonstration.

Our guide in Mognori was a young man named Moses, who is assisting in the development of the project in the region. He is an enterprising and highly knowledgeable village man who has gone out into the world to get his education and now feels a strong need to give back to his region. His father worked at Mole, so he got a good education at the park school and is now turning his learning into a brighter future for the surrounding communities. He does guided river treks, hikes, and the tour through Mognori. He ended up joining us in Larabanga, where we went to see an ancient mud and stick mosque, because people there can be fairly aggressive in their approach to tourists and he wanted us to be treated fairly. When we departed and mentioned we were going to Wa to see the hippos, he gave us the number of a friend that was a guide in that area, whom he felt we could trust. You get a sense that he takes his work seriously, and he understands the importance of word of mouth, especially amongst "obruni" tourists.

When we arrived, we were greeted by an elderly woman, who was processing gari, a local food that is made from cassava that is grated, dried, then lightly fried. We noted that we recognized her in the promotional posters that we saw around Mole, and then we silently noted that she was wearing the same clothing--the poster was obviously some years old. She was also selling balls of raw shea butter that she had made. Shea butter, commonly used in soaps and lotions, is especially important in this region in the dry season to help prevent and heal dry, cracked skin. Made by crushing and boiling the fruit of the Shea nut tree, it is also a valuable market item for trade and sale.

The average family home in Mognori consists of a mud-walled compound that has a few buildings and an open courtyard. In the open area, the fire will be made, and most of the cooking, cleaning and washing happens. Carmilla and I didn't accept an offer to go inside the bedrooms and I'm not sure if this was because we were shy, or because we didn't want to intrude--or a bit of both. We learned that the intricate etched designs in the mud walls were actually used as calculators and calendars, reminiscent of the Metis sash.

Families are big, even though infant mortality is very high. It is not uncommon for a woman to give birth twice as many times as she has children. Combine this with the fact that there is still a great deal of "traditional" medicine and superstition, along with occasional food shortages and diseases such as malaria, and you begin to appreciate why death is such a significant and regular part of everyday life. Although it is in rapid decline, men can have as many wives and children as they can feed. I am reminded here of Things Fall Apart as relative wealth is determined by a person's crops and harvest, stored in silos like the one pictured above. (I hope this hasn't lit any light bulbs over the heads of all our male friends from rural Saskatchewan! Of course they would be quick to argue that with the state of agriculture, they can hardly afford what they've got!)

On hot nights, families will literally take to the roof and sleep on top of their homes. At the end of the tour we were invited up via a notched-log ladder. We climbed up and had a good look around, much to the delight of the village children. There was a large group of them that followed at a respectful distance (I think they are instructed to do so), giggling every time we did something. Our children, especially Finn, are something of a novelty in more remote areas and mothers will often bring out their youngest children to show them ours. It is not uncommon for first-timers to break into tears at the sight of us!

Later that night, we came back to the village with another small group (and saw a civet cat run across the road on the way!) to see a drum and dance performance at dusk. It was obvious that the young people participating had just returned from a day's work, especially the men who were all but absent during the day tour. We gathered in front of the chief's house (he is pictured above with Bronte and Materia as he loves having his picture taken) and as the sun went down the music grew stronger, signalling to surrounding communities that a celebration was about to begin. There were a couple of long dances that had very distinct roles and steps for the men and the women. We were all completely mesmerized by the experience, though Carmilla and I admitted to feeling a little uncomfortable about this being staged for our entertainment and our cameras.

It would be somewhat easy to argue that, relatively speaking, Mognori is expensive by comparison with some of the other things we've seen and done in Ghana. But, in terms of sustainable development, you can see every dollar spent at work in small but important improvements made to water, to agricultural production, and to the community school. And while school is "free" in Ghana, most poor families in rural areas cannot afford to send their children and lose the labour and income, so some of the money raised goes to offset this. You could also argue that perspective is priceless and its gift will be enduring in the lives of our own children. Actually, I think we got a pretty deal, all things considered.

Beach Fun in Ghana!

2009-02-27T05:08:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I've had a few people (mostly those family-types) demand more of those indulgent family snapshots, particularly of the kids, so I thought I'd post a few random pics. Of course, I'm perfectly happy to do so because I like my children and I like looking at them...they're neat! Most of these were taken at or near Till's, not too far from Accra. A couple of them feature the children of some friends of ours, who shall remain nameless, as I don't have their permission to publish. Enjoy!

Hand in Hand in Hand in Hand

2009-02-25T23:21:00.000-08:00

Nestled in the Nkoranza district, on the outskirts of the region's namesake, is a magical little piece of goodness and light called Hand in Hand. Technically, it consists of an orphanage and school for mentally challenged children, but it tends to feel more like home to a rather impressive and unique family. The best part is that they are perfectly happy to share their home, their gifts, and their music with you. After reading about it in the Bradt guide, we weren't sure we wanted to extend our northern adventure to fit it in, and if we're honest, there was some degree of apprehension about what we might be getting ourselves "into." As with most of the great experiences of our lives (not the least of which was a small move to Ghana), everything is scary...at first.

When we arrived we were greeted by Charity, the camp hostess, who showed us to what would quickly become our home away from home. It turned out to be a stone cottage with a screened in porch, surrounded by dramatic, rocky outcroppings, with a long view of the lush, green valley in which Hand in Hand is situated. Needless to say, our little home "had us at hello" and within a very short time we were talking about staying longer. It felt like the sort of thing you might find in cottage country in Canada, or in the Lake District of England. The guest houses are set back from the main housing, and guests are free to get as involved with the life of the community as they are comfortable with. It was wonderful to see our children's willingness to be "involved" grow as our stay progressed.

This place is all about caring for children who are exceptional and neglected. Many of their stories are not unlike the old one about the baby being dropped off in a basket outside the church. A number of them have literally been rescued from death as there is a great deal of superstition around those with disabilities. They are commonly referred to as "water children" and are thought to be the offspring of water spirits and mothers and many are abandoned. Hand in Hand has done a great deal to dispel this and so rather than being left by rivers to be reclaimed by the water spirits, some of the children are brought to Hand in Hand. In the defense of the mothers who do so, there is little or no support for the parents of these children whose needs are great and everyone in a typical village family must do there part--there are no extra hands.

And how did it begin? The same way it continues to exist: with people who can do more, choosing to do more. The real hero at present is Dr. Ineke Bosman (though in true heroic fashion, she will undoubtedly renounce the title), who is the remaining founder from the camp's conception in the early nineties. The land was donated by the local chief and he continues to be supportive of the mission. We were lucky enough to see his drummers and dancers the first night, along with community superstars Kofi the drummer and Bright the dancer. By the second night (we did extend our stay after all) we were up dancing with the children and caregivers at the nightly celebration. I really hit it off with Bob (Ineke's partner, a board member and the financial director), who delivered poetry to me one morning (signed copies of Lorna Crozier no less!) and had a real passion for film and literature. He was generous and sincere and reminded me of what I want to be when I grow up. He was as unlikely a find as Hand in Hand itself, and it was truly a break from the city in every possible way.

If you want to make a difference in the lives of Ghanaian children, this would be a good place to start. I give you my word that this is a legitimate and credible organization, and the only ones getting wealthy from this venture are the children, who are some of the best cared for I have seen in Ghana. For more information about Hand in Hand, to book in for a night (and more likely two!), or to learn more about making a financial adoption, visit:

http://www.operationhandinhand.nl/engels.htm

Sanctuary! or, Lucky Little Monkeys

2009-02-19T05:15:00.001-08:00

It is a rather happy coincidence for monkeys in Ghana that many of the forests in which they live are considered to be sacred. What this means in practice is that killing monkeys who reside in a sacred grove is unlucky and will bring ill upon the perpetrator and upon the nearest village. Without this protection system in place, I daresay there would be few monkeys left in Ghana. It also makes for a natural fit with ecotourism projects such as the one found at Boabeng-Fiema Monkey Sanctuary nestled in the transitional landscape (where forest meets grassland) of the Brong Ahafo region. We stopped at the sanctuary's guide office after driving from Techiman, and after paying a modest guide fee, our guide jumped in the van with us and off we went.

By the time we pulled into the village and parked the van, there were already a dozen or so Mona monkeys making their way towards the van, some of which had newborns clinging on for dear life. We bought a couple of bunches of bananas from a conveniently positioned village seller and the games quickly began. As humans have never posed a threat to these monkeys, they are very comfortable with people and were soon taking bananas from the children and climbing into our van to be certain we weren't withholding any offerings (it truns out we were and that was soon rectified!). We then made our way into the forest, that reminded us of a few of the hikes we've done in BC, particularly in the coastal rainforests of Vancouver Island. The Mona monkeys were our constant companions (lest we produce more bananas) as we began to feel smaller and smaller as the trees became larger. There were some stunning examples of strangler vines or killer trees that gradually consume much larger trees and choke them out (at which point I start having rather twisted visions of one of the Evil Dead movies--I'll spare you if you haven't seen it!).

In keeping with sacred aura of the sanctuary, it is one of the few places where two different species--the aforementioned Campbell's Mona monkey and Geoffroy's Columbus monkey--live in absolute harmony with one another. The Columbus monkeys tend to be a little more shy and don't have quite the same relationship with the villagers, but they are no less revered and protected for it. As I recall, our guide said that the monkeys were long ago discovered to be the children of the community's god and were to be treated as equals. As such, when the monkeys die, they are buried in a cemetery very near to the village and it is said that they come down from the trees and die very close to the community to be found. The funeral rites for the monkeys are the same as for the people and there are priests and priestesses buried alongside the sacred monkeys. It is believed that when the monkey populations are prosperous and healthy, so too are the people. There is true and basic environmental wisdom here.

The kids decided that this gift shop would be a very authentic and memorable place to buy some souvenirs, so Bronte and Cohen each picked out a mask and Carmilla and I opted for a hand-carved salad bowl. These sorts of shops are rarely the least expensive, but it is quickly evident that the money is going towards development, village projects and the artists themselves. In the city, the village artists see very little of the money from their wares. There is a nearby waterfall that we didn't get to on this trip, so it gives us a good excuse to return. The forest was certainly the one of the most impressive and pristine we have seen, aside perhaps from Kakum National Park, and we could easily have spent a day in the shady coolness of its canopy and the pleasant company of its monkey population.

Taking the Plunge!

2009-02-16T02:00:00.000-08:00

We have finally bought a membership to a hotel pool in Accra. We spent about five months sampling the various hotel pools in and around the city in an attempt to find something accessible and affordable. Of course the search was not tedious, especially since we have conducted it during one of the fiercest Canadian winters on recent record (sorry!). Just as we were about to give up and continue to pay regular day use fees that range from twenty to thirty-five Cedis every time (for the whole family), we found a great hotel pool within walking distance of my school. I’m not sure why we overlooked it before but it is quiet and clean and it only cost us 250 Ghana Cedis for a six month membership for the whole family. This enables Carmilla to leave work at lunch time and go for an afternoon swim, and I can sneak out for a dip and a little poolside reading at the end of my day while waiting for the family to pick me up. We have already gone once as a family and we had the pool almost all to ourselves for the better part of an afternoon. Now, this is the part where I should include a picture of the hotel sign, or at least mention the name, but I won’t because we are terribly selfish and want the whole pool to ourselves…sorry again!

Note: Of course if you have a magnifying glass, you may just be able to find the name of the hotel in one of the above pictures...

Happy House Hunting in Accra

2009-02-12T08:00:00.000-08:00

In an attempt to negotiate a longer term stay in Ghana, we have started to look for the kind of home that will sustain our family in Accra. Our number one priority was to leave the daily dose of Spintex traffic behind us as it consumes roughly two to three extra hours of our day and makes it (literally!) impossible to return home at any point during the weekday. We would be perfectly happy to live in the Regimanuel Estates (the really nice suburban, gated neighbourhoods that we sometimes sneak into with our children to use their playground and imagine we live in another city) were it not for the in surmountable obstacle that is Spintex traffic. Before I continue, I should warn that if you thought rents were bad in Vancouver, Toronto, New York or London, then you should sit down.

You should know that while you could probably get still get yourself a one room tin house or shared 250 square foot flat for in and around the 100 Ghana cedi range, we are currently looking for a modest four bedroom unfurnished home in the $2000 (U.S. dollars!) per month range. This will not place us in the best neighbourhood (though we’re near it) and this will not include a pool or the security of a gated community (though Accra is generally very safe and secure). For houses in the right area, rent would start at about $3500 per month and all require one year’s rent up front. For this price, I will neither be guaranteed reliable running water, nor consistent electricity, but I will be guaranteed that everything in my house will be falling apart and the landlord will have relocated to an unnamed and unreachable location. It is quite possible to pay upwards of $7000 dollars a month for some of the most undesirable property in the world. Labour is inexpensive, but you hire very specific people to do very specific jobs, so the average large home will employ a gardener, a housekeeper or two, a cook, a security guard, a pool cleaner and a driver. Even at the low end of the pay scale, this will add up to about another $1000 dollars in labour costs and upkeep (yes, that is how poorly people are paid for a sixty hour work week in this country). I know you will argue (my blog photos serving as a kind of evidence) that the beaches are extraordinary, but all of the best stretches of sand, saltwater and sun are outside of the city and you must first escape Accra to get to them!

Why, you ask? Simply put, the market will bear it because Africa is poised to become every capitalist’s dream come true: an untapped consumer population that rivals North America in population and potential. I think that in some ways Barack Obama's presence in the White House has reinforced the adoption of the "American Dream" as the "African Dream" whereby the cars, the houses, a (very) select few bank accounts and the appetites just keep getting bigger (of course Canada is not to be left out--we have an environmental footprint that rivals all). Add to the mix the wealth of precious materials that lurk in the ground beneath continent, and it’s ivory all over again. This time, rather than overlooking the rights and lives of the proud and vulnerable indigenous people of a continent, the lessons and impact of hyper-consumerism run rampant have been filed under “incidental” so that this market can be afforded its God-given right to spend and have. Sure, a few Africans will get rich, but corporations will get richer and the planet will get laid to waste. No doubt, we need to think smaller, not bigger...

Kumasi: The Garden City

2009-02-09T23:14:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I don’t think it would have occurred to me to dub Ghana’s second largest metropolis with the tag of “garden city” but relatively speaking, it is probably worthy of the title. Accra’s lesser known inland cousin is in the heart of the traditional Ashanti kingdom, seat of the most historically powerful people of Ghana, and it did have more open and green space than we had previously seen in an urban setting. Between the streets that seemed better planned for traffic flow (again, relatively speaking given our current context), the park and walkways at the cultural centre and museum, and the vast urban greenspace at the Kumasi Zoological Gardens, we started to wonder how our lives would be different if we lived in Kumasi. In a strange way it reminded us more of a smaller Canadian city (still relative!) which was especially ironic since there is far less commercialization here than in Accra.

As prices and investment steadily climb in Accra, Kumasi is attracting more attention not only for real estate development, but also for its market potential. Big hotels and big business are increasingly on the scene in this bustling market town. It is, however, still best known for the rich history of the Ashante people and the presence of a good deal of art. We glimpsed both aspects of the region at the National Cultural Centre in the heart of Kumasi. We bought a few pieces from the art market in the centre and the prices were significantly lower than anywhere we have bought in Ghana. One of the most common pieces from the region is the fertility idol that was traditionally given to women who were having trouble getting pregnant. The grounds at the Cultural Centre are well kept and you can visit the shops of individual artists along the roadways and paths. The kids enjoyed playing in the fountain and running around in the open spaces, the sort of thing we took for granted in Canada (and in our back yard in Steinbach, for that matter!).

Next to the Cultural Centre is the rather dilapidated Kumasi Zoo. It boasts a diverse collection of African animals and the trees above the zoo are home to thousands of fruit bats (Carmilla was thrilled). The enclosed habitats are smaller than any you might find in North America (no real surprise here) and the animals gave a general impression of ill health. This said, life for most animals outside the zoo is not usually much better, as conservation and environmental citizenship are but poor players next to the need for food and the unfortunate business of poaching. We saw lions, chimpanzees, hyenas, giant tortoises, monitor lizards, a viper, a cobra, baboons, and several other species at the zoo and as former members of a couple of prairie zoological societies, it was enjoyed by all, despite the state of the zoo. Besides, it could have been worse, as in the case of the Accra Zoo that was bulldozed to make way for the gaudy opulence of the Presidential Palace and its massive private grounds!

We stayed at two hotels—a cheaper one the first night that had no running water (the girls at the hotel hauled several pails of water to us on the third floor—source unknown!), and a nicer one on the second night. I will mention the second, the Royal Basin Resort as it was a very friendly little hotel just outside the city that had lots of amenities. They put us in two adjoining rooms for 100 cedis and that included a decent little breakfast and wireless internet, which was unexpected and welcome! The attendants also washed our van overnight! Strangely enough, the highlight of our trip was an outstanding Indian meal that we had in the city at Moti Mahal. It may be that it has been some time since we have supped on butter chicken, korma and samosa with mango chutney, but we claimed that it was the best Indian meal we have ever had. Since we come from Winnipeg, home to a sinfully delicious array of authentic East Indian cuisine, this is not a conclusion we draw lightly.

All in all, Kumasi made for a very nice little stop along the way to points north, but it would also work as a retreat from the urban insanity that is Accra. There are a few animal sanctuaries, waterfalls and forest preserves close to the city (more to come), and a drive or walk through the city’s market is like swimming in a beautiful sea of people. We will undoubtedly return.

Finn is Two!

2009-01-29T05:15:00.000-08:00

Okay, so he's now two and then some, but his father has been busy doubling his school's population this semester, and hasn't had much time to blog! Of course if he hadn't shown up several weeks early in the first place, I would have been on time with this entry. It seems like only yesterday that Carmilla's water was breaking in the bar in Humboldt. (Enjoy that last line while you can, because despite its truth, I'm sure I will soon be instructed to remove it promptly!)

If young Cuyler were a few years older, he would be declaring to anyone who would listen that he got ripped off for his second birthday. Given its proximity to Christmas, we are likely to hear such utterances before too long so we should enjoy the silence, as it were. I should note that on few other matters is Finn silent and he is developing a rather healthy Ghanaian accent and palate. He is also a very enthusiastic footballer and loves animals about as much as Cohen did. You will also note, upon a brief study of the pictures, that the family tradition of the "blankie" is alive and well (At least one other family member still has a blanket and it is also blue...go figure!). Actually the blankie buddies pictured are pretty good pals and though he fights it every step of the way, Finn is very much the baby of the family. Happy birthday Cuyler Griffin James Land!

We Like Them Big, We Like Them Chunky

2009-01-27T07:38:00.000-08:00

For those who have already had the belly-tickling pleasure of seeing Madagascar 2, the reference in the title to Moto-Moto will be immediately apparent, and you will have already guessed I am about to write about hippos. For the rest of you...what are you waiting for? Our trip to Wechiau Hippo Sanctuary brought us up close and personal with several hippos as they soaked and wrestled in the Black Volta, the mighty river that marks a section of northwestern border between Burkina Faso and Ghana.

The above picture may at first glance appear to resemble an archaic dugout canoe like those (previously!) used by various Aboriginals around the world, but whose time has long since passed due to mass production and innovation (not to mention safety regulations!). This is certainly how it appeared to us we nervously looked around for the "real" boat that would be taking the six of us and our two guides to get up close and personal with Africa's most dangerous animal. We soon realized that this was none other than a standard issue eco-safari transport and viewing vehicle--Ghanaian style! If we had not just covered yet another hour of rough terrain to the Wechiau eco-tourism office where we paid our hefty guide fees, followed by thirty minutes of off-road rally driving in the mini-van, and if it did not just happen that we could see a large group of hippos upshore, I'm sure we would not have hesitated to take a pass. Had we done so, we would have missed out on one of the most wonderful experiences of our lives.

I didn't spend too long feeling bad about the fact that our two rather slim guides had to do all the paddling, as I was too busy peeing in my pants. I have read and heard in many places that more people are killed by hippos in Africa each year, than by any other creature, and as the two youngest grew restless in their "one size fits none" life vests, Carmilla and I grew increasingly nervous! As you can see, the hippos are pretty darn blatant about acknowledging your presence, something you would prefer they didn't do. There were seven hippos in the family we saw, and they took turns disappearing under the water (for at least enough time to swim under our dugout canoe) after glaring at us menacingly for five to ten minutes.

We stayed on the water for about thirty minutes and eventually the hippos actually started playing and wrestling underwater. It must have been unusual as our guides were both highly amused. We were completely alone on the Black Volta River, and we were apparently very lucky to see the hippos so quickly as it can take a couple of hours. We were only passed by a couple of village fisherman, returning with their catch. This was probably the highlight for Finn as he got to see a bucket of living fish, rather than some silly ol' distant ears and eyes poking up through the water. And of course at no point did any of them break into song and start shaking their hippo booties.

It was obviously worth it, at any price, and most of these sanctuaries are run as eco-tourism outfits wherein the profits go directly into the community to create employment, build schools, or develop clinics. This particular operation was set-up through a partnership with Canada, so it was nice for the kids to see what kind of work their country does abroad. We bought a few clay pots that were a mere two ghana cedis each and are quite lovely. We were also swarmed as we tried to drive away, because we started handing out balloons to the children of the community. Most children in Ghana have enough to eat--unlike many other parts of Africa--but there is still very little left for some of the pleasures of childhood, so we try to bring along something to give out while we travel, such as toffees, biscuits or balloons. Since this was part of Christmas safari, it felt all the more appropriate.

Holy Mole...It's a Christmas Safari!

2009-01-07T05:54:00.000-08:00

Akwaaba! Since I am now getting desperate fan mail from my loyal blog-heads (okay, I'm exaggerating--not all three of my readers have e-mailed), demanding that I update the blog and write a tell-all exposé about our Christmas safari, I thought I better start typing. There has also been some concern that we were trampled by elephants, swallowed whole by hippos, or pummeled by swing-by bananas raining down from the canopy, and while any of these things was theoretically possible, we have lived--completely and utterly intact--to tell the tales of our holiday adventures in Ghana. While it was not our first stop, Mole National Park (pronounced mawl-ee) was certainly a highlight for our family and it was the ultimate destination, so it is where I will begin.

All told, a trip to Mole from Accra will set you back about ten to twelve hours each way. We actually stopped in Kumasi to break up the journey and take in some of the sights in and around that city, but I'll save that city for a later entry. If you should make the journey, please do not allow yourself to assume that the description people offer of the road on the final leg into Larabanga and the park gate (less than a hundred kms. and a solid two hour, trafficless drive) is an exaggeration. People from developed countries have not the experience nor the vocabulary to describe experiences, though those who know what lies beneath the snow and ice of a Winnipeg or Saskatchewan winter (ie: Potholes to the Centre of the Earth), or who have seen the bombed-out wartime roads seen from a jeep's eye view in say Mash or Saving Private Ryan might have an inkling. Please indulge me, so that I might conjure a demonstration for you to try at home.

On top of your washing machine, spread clay out, simulating a steady rippled effect. Let it dry.
Using a small hatchet or a crowbar, randomly punch gaping, one inch holes through the clay and through the top of your washer. Rest assured, you cannot overdo this.
Place a large, unbalanced load in your washing machine and wait until the spin cycle turns your machine into an angry, jerking bulk of terror.
Set a Matchbox (Hot Wheels will suffice) 1998 Chevy Venture mini-van on top of your washing machine.
Invite as many of your family members into the laundry room as will fit. The simulation will be more authentic if some are agitated, hungry, have to pee, or are missing Canada thus blaming you for their departure as well as for their nausea, while intermittently shouting "Make it stop," "I want off," "Who wants to see stupid elephants anyway," or gently weeping. Note that the smallest one among you (a.k.a. "Finn the Cherub") should feel free to continue sleeping and snuggling his blankie while dreaming of mummy jogging with him in the womb.
Welcome to hel...er, the road to Mole.

This picture represents a small part of the pay-off. This said, no one who describes the road will ever suggest that you should skip Mole, as it is unspoiled, inexpensive, and loaded with African wildlife. We arrived--shaken and stirred, our innards reconfigured--just in time to behold sunset across an African Savannah, while humming Hakuna Matata. Our chalet had its own little porch that overlooked the watering hole where we later hiked down into to see an elephant up close and a little too interested in us. During the first morning, the camp was swarmed by a large family of baboons who raided the garbage, and made a rather terrifying attempt to steal our children's breakfast cereal. Later, the children said "Why didn't you take a picture?" I explained that the hungriest baboon was roughly Brontë's size and twice Cohen's weight and their safety was more a concern than a photo op. Cohen is still disappointed that he will not be a famous YouTube video.

We went on a driving safari on the first morning and when we rounded the first corner, there were dozens of baboons, warthogs, and antelope so it set a wonderful tone for the rest of the journey. We did not see an elephant on the first safari and returned to the station feeling a little disappointed. It didn't last though as the Mole Motel has a swimming pool! By the early afternoon, an elephant had come to the watering hole and we hiked into the basin to watch it cool down. A few massive crocodiles slid into the water as we arrived and there were some grey monkeys running around beside us. When the elephant started to swim toward us and we all found ourselves not needing the zoom on our cameras, our guide suggested we leave.

We also saw bush and water buck, one other type of monkey, another species of antelope (Kobe, I think), dozens of bird species and even a Civet cat. There are some lions in the park, but they are nowhere near the camp, which is probably a good thing. Our guide drove with us (again, in our van...Go Chevy Venture!) and directed us for nearly two hours and the charge for his services was less than 5 Ghana cedis. The chalet, with a huge bed, fridge, AC, private bath and shower, and breakfast included was a mere 50 Ghana cedis! This probably makes it one of the least expensive safaris in Africa, and it is certainly the safest!

We woke up on Christmas morning and gathered around the impromptu "Christmas lamp" to discover that Santa had found us all the way in northern Ghana. The kids were definitely impressed and the stockings contained a few comforts of home such as Oreos, and a few West African surprises as well. Under the tree, Santa left Cohen some carved elephants, Brontë a hand-made leather and wood jewelry box, Materia a Dora the Explorer backpack, and Finn a set of rubber reptiles. Everyone got a Christmas "African animal" ornament from Global Mamas NGO, made from recycled glass beads. While the under-the-tree haul was decidedly thinner than a typical Christmas, I don't think anyone was disappointed--especially after we opened the curtains to see the sun breaking over Africa.

Christmas in Ghana, or, Red Hot Santa

2008-12-16T04:39:00.001-08:00

Our children are off school this week after a week of exams and another week of Christmas partying that included a visit from jolly old...well, "Santa." The momentous event took place last Thursday, when the students gathered outside, underneath a big mango tree in the playground, to await the arrival of Father Christmas. The students were stirred up into a frenzy and belted out a few carols to coax Santa out of his air-conditioned room and into the blazing sun of late morning to distribute their gifts, induce further merriment, and terrify small children. I should know, I was there...in every possible way!

At the first clang of Santa's rather large school bell, and the first glimpse of his disco Santa jumpsuit, chaos reigned and I'm sure at least one of the children present peed their pants (in his defense, Finn still wears a diaper so it was to be expected). Santa then conducted the laughing children in a few stirring, Boney-M-esque renditions of a few Christmas carols. Then Santa nestled his ample bottom into the Christmas throne and began to dole out the gift-wrapped booty. I hope that you will now spend a good, long while (at least as long as Finn did) looking at the picture of Santa. If you can't shake the feeling that there is something altogether familiar about Santa, you can relate to my children's experience of the day.

Aside from Materia, all of the kids figured it out. We weren't sure about Cuyler, but when he was later asked who gave him his new dinosaurs, he swiftly answered "Da-Da." It was a bit surprising since he spent the better part of his time peering at me from behind mom, and was very reluctant to accept a gift from me. After I gave Cohen his gift, he leaned in and said, "See you later dad." Brontë begged me to admit that it was me, as there was still enough magic in her imagination to leave room for doubt. The kids reported later that their school mates had never had a Santa that was so funny before. Of course I have had prior experience as I played Santa in the school in Black Lake several years ago. Yep, that's me, always the class clown! I suppose there are worse things than being type-cast as Santa!

Generally speaking, Christmas here is much as it is in North America, with a slightly more British-Victorian flavour and considerably less snow! The Accra Mall has a Santa and it is thoroughly decorated, and most families travel for the holidays. Traffic has reached frustrating new levels of thickness and density, but we saw this coming. We bought a small Christmas tree for the house, hung the few decorations we brought and we remembered to bring our stockings (alas, know chimney). We are preparing for our homemade family safari over the break and we should awake on Christmas morning overlooking elephants at the watering hole. Not a bad way to stuff a stocking, I'd say.

Top Eight Reasons Why Granny Should Come to Ghana

2008-12-10T05:15:00.000-08:00

1. Cohen, Brontë, Materia, and Cuyler: I resisted the ease and temptation of making these reasons one through four, but obviously the four grandchildren (not to mention their parents) would be thrilled to share "their Africa" with Granny. Besides, you came to see us in England and it's practically a tradition now that you visit us abroad. And in case you wondered (you shouldn't) we miss you and we love you! Think of the memories you will make and talk about with your grandchildren for many years to come.

2. Monkeys and Hippos and Elephants...Oh My!: You are guaranteed to come up close and personal with a rather splendid variety of plants, mammals, and birds that previously existed only in books and zoos. If you're really lucky, you may even get bitten by something and have a cool scar to show for it!

3. Bragging Rights: You just know you've got that one friend who has a PhD in oneupmanship and try as you might, your accomplishments (which are, let's be honest, pretty darn impressive in their own right) always fall just short of winning the focus of conversation around tea (or other such "refreshments"). Try this: "I just crossed oceans, jungles, and continents to explore Africa with my grandchildren. What are you doing in your retirement?" The photographs alone will set the hens a-twitter! The Killarney Guide and will likely want to do a "Where Are They Now?" exposé and you'll probably wind up with key to the town.

4. Beaches: This should be the final straw, as we know all too well your weakness for sun, beaches and sand. We just bet that the thought of your feet in the warm sand (in winter!) set your toes a-wigglin'! Can you hear the waves? ...the sound of the ocean in the conch shells? ...the windswept voices of your grandchildren playing on the beach? We can. Enough said.

5. Waterfalls: Okay, so I know that Canada has waterfalls, but the chances are that you will not have any of them all to yourself, at least without a half day hike into the rocky mountains. And, you will certainly be discouraged from getting close enough to feel the rainforest spray on your face! We've hardly seen another tourist on any of our excursions, admission is ridiculously cheap, or free, and (for better or worse) no one seems to discourage us from doing anything in the presence of a waterfall.

6. Culture: Museums, markets, safaris, grass huts, dancing, Kente weaving, castles, drumming, woodcarvers, palava sauce, fufu, banku, and so much more. Not to mention the fact that Ghanaians are some of the friendliest, most welcoming people in the world--and they love Canadians.

7. Africa: Hey, it's Africa! There is very little chance that you will say to yourself, in reflecting on the content and quality of your life, "It's too bad I went to Africa." Quite the contrary, I might argue. Of course, you might get eaten by an alligator or trampled by a hippo, but who could ask for a better fate than this?! You'd be legendary, there would be a video on YouTube and Peter Mansbridge would be talking about it on The National. Sure, there would be emotional scars left on the children, but they'd all be spiritually healed and financially affirmed after their father wrote his tell-all creative non-fiction memoir about the experience and it became an Oprah book (and you know how I adore Oprah...it's a win-win!).

8. Winter: Need we say more? Let us know when your flight arrives and we'll pick you up at the airport!!

La Palm Takes the Cake...and Eats it Too!

2008-12-08T00:29:00.001-08:00

La Palm Royal has been hiding right underneath our noses all this time. Having been to Busua Beach, another of the resorts in the Golden Beach chain, we knew it would be spectacular, so we gave it a shot on pre-election Saturday, and were dearly rewarded for doing so. The resort is at a less busy spot along the waterfront where Accra meets the ocean. This is not, I must stress, the prettiest stretch of beach along Ghana's coast--quite the contrary! It seems that every bit of sewage, garbage and canal debris that is lovingly spilled into the ocean from Accra, finds its way onto the sands at the city's edge. La Palm has a team of people who clean the beach by hand every morning, but it is a neverending handkerchief pulled from the sleeve that ensures they will never be jobless.

This said, the resort is the exception to Accra's coastline--a real oasis in the heart of dirtyville! It does cost more to use the pool as a day user (10 cedis for adults and 5 for children), but they didn't charge for our two youngest, so it was actually less expensive than Shangri-La, despite the latter being the much poorer cousin. As the pictures reveal, we had the enormous labyrinth of pools--kiddie pool, shallow pool and wraparound grown-up pool with bridges, waterfalls and swim-up bar--to ourselves when we first arrived and this was pretty much the case until noon. As most people find the mornings unreasonably cold for swimming (a mere 28 degrees!), we are often alone in the a.m. and we tend to leave by mid-afternoon when things start to fill up.

The pool also has a theme park for children and was generally kid-friendly all round. There is a boat ride around the theme park that was closed for renovations (welcome to Ghana!), but the kids were still able to explore the structure to break up the day a little. The massive grounds also provide for a decent stroll with a view of the ocean, without any of the very aggressive city sellers that haunt the beach. There was a fishing net catch that was being divvied up on the beach that attracted much attention and was interesting to have a glimpse of.

The hotel was adorned with Christmas trees (reminiscent of Victoria's Empress at Christmas) and some of the most original and stunning paintings that I've seen in Ghana. We also took note (for future reference) of the Thai massage parlor and the salon that is reputed to be adept with "European" hairstyles and cuts.

Eating is something of an adventure all to itself at La Palm as there are several restaurants and lounges, and prices vary considerably. We opted for the poolside menu which featured inexpensive and delicious pizzas that the kids loved, a pool burger topped with a fried egg (common here), and a substantial clubhouse wrap for mom. After the meal, Cohen noted that it was the first time that everyone was happy with their meals, and he was right. Carmilla noted that the chef must have some Western training as the food could have come from Earl's or some such franchise, though less expensive. I hope your sitting down for this next statement: THE FOOD WAS ON OUR TABLE IN LESS THAN THIRTY MINUTES!! The Sunday brunch is reasonably priced and said to be incredible, so watch this space!

The "Holy Grail" of trips to the pool is any (much-coveted) block of time that "the parents" are able to spend reading an actual book (we don't count the menu or the pool rules). As this whole experience was already surreal, we managed to devour several pages of Scott Griffin's My Heart is Africa, while Finn sawed poolside logs. We hardly believed it ourselves! We will be back , and likely often, as it fires on all cylinders for our family's buck and it is a mere fifteen minutes away in weekend morning traffic.

White Sands...Pun Intended

2008-12-04T05:07:00.000-08:00

The first thing that we noticed when we were welcomed through the security gate at White Sands Resort (for an exorbitant fee!) were the Ghanaians in "safari" security gear, complete with pith helmets and high knee socks, hiking boots and khaki wear. The second thing: Gee, there an awful lot of white people here. Hence the pun in the title. I could not help but be reminded of American segregation prior to the civil rights movement or apartheid in South Africa as I stood at the middle point between the rugged and lively fishing village of Gomoa Fetteh, and the pristine tranquility and grass umbrellas of the White Sands Beach Resort. On the short boat ride from the main resort to the beach resort, located on an estuary, there was talk of a peaceful coexistance between the resort and the village, but I don't think this tells the whole story.

Now, the pictures we took will speak for themselves in suggesting that this is one of the most stunning locations along this or any other coast, but it is just the sort of elitist, posh, wealthy indulgence that makes me feel guilty as well as broke. We had tried on one other occasion to come to White Sands, but we were told at the gate that it would be $25 (USD!) per person to attend. Yes, that is a whopping $150.00 for our family to access the beach through their resort! This time, we arrived with friends who thought they were allowed to bring a family in with them. On this day (rules change on a pretty regular basis in Ghana), it turned out that they were not allowed to bring a family in, but we could pay a special reduced rate of $75. Having made the trip, and as we were with friends, we paid, albeit grudgingly. Apparently, several families can get together and buy a corporate membership for a couple thousand dollars and then they can come for free all year. As the resort is quite close to Accra and the beach is exceptional, this is probably a pretty good value even if you were to come once or twice a month.

Lunch was a quintessentially Ghanaian adventure as the restaurant and beach were especially busy and there had been a large event the night before that had depleted resources. We ordered pizza, which was very pricey, but good, and it arrived just short of two hours after I ordered it and about an hour after everyone else's food had arrived. The people we were with were very kind in that they shared their meals around until ours arrived. There were eleven children and six adults to begin the meal, and with my pizza arriving so late, I was the last one left alone at a table for seventeen. In Ghana so long as there is an explanation for lateness (the national pastime), there is no problem, so we received no discount and no compensation. While you are guaranteed access to a fine stretch of paradise at White Sands, customer service is optional!

Perhaps the best thing about White Sands is that the ocean here is another spot where things are less dangerous and parents do not have to be on constant "baywatch" (Sorry, I couldn't resist the slow motion image of me that this would conjure up...eat your heart out Hasselhoff!). The tide goes out a good long way so when we were there, the amount of beach front was massive and there was loads of space to run. Also, the village, with its fishing boats and busy waterfront make for a nice little walk, though it seemed to me my walk into their midst was more the exception than the rule and I stopped before I interrupted their football match on the sand. I also turned back because I felt I was intruding and there's no way turnabout would have been fair play if they had tried to invade White Sands.

Cuyler was pretty sleepy after a day of beachcombing and wave dodging, so while the gang went to swim in the pool for the last hour, he slept in my arms for an hour. I certainly couldn't complain about the view or the company! He will soon be two and I'm sure for him, Ghana will exist only in pictures and stories for him, rather than in memories.

Brontë is Eight!

2008-12-02T23:41:00.000-08:00

The Land family "birthday season" can really wreak havoc on the psyches of parents who are trying to convince themselves that they are not really very old, but at least there is a brief reprieve between Brontë's birthday and Cuyler's. We might be able to recover our sense of youth by then, what with Christmas being oh-so-restful! As you will soon deduce from closer examination of the pictures, Brontë's party was co-sponsored by Coca Cola, the Granada Hotel pool, and Pizza Inn. Bronte invited Devina, a friend from school, and we did cake, presents and fun at the pool. As it gets dark at 6:00 p.m. and we were the only people keeping the attendant from closing, it was a whirlwind of a party that lasted about two hours. Brontë was happy though, especially since she got some Ghanaian dresses for her birthday, and a new DS game (thanks Granny!).

We had the party on the actual day of her birthday, so it made for a hectic day (especially for Carmilla--thanks mom!) as it was a weekday. To complicate matters, the waitress from the restaurant at the pool refused to serve us, claiming there was "no menu and no food." She just happens to be the very same server who tried to double our bill the last time we were there, trying to tell us that the prices had changed since she handed us the menu. We did not fall for this age-old Ghanaian custom (reserved for obruni) and simply did the math ourselves, included a small dash, and went on our way. The patrons, "Douglas the Driver," and staff of the pool were on our side (as they knew the real prices as well as the "custom"), so we left her with a rather sour expression on her face and went on our merry way. Her revenge meant I had to dash out and get pizza, which was probably for the best as the last time our food took more than an our to arrive and the order was wrong. Alas, this will probably be our last visit to the Granada, as the pool was also quite dirty! Welcome to Ghana, have a nice birthday!

Election in Ghana: The Final Countdown

2008-11-27T02:36:00.001-08:00

Akwaaba! While the dust has settled on a U.S. election that captured the world's imagination and interest, the excitement in Ghana for its latest round of democratic, multi-party elections, is just hitting a fever pitch. Everyone is talking about the election (except on tro-tros where public debate has been banned due to intense passions in closed quarters!) as we move into the final week of campaigning, and it seems as though things will work out. African elections are always a little tense and the continent, if not the world, will be watching Ghana, to see if it really is as stable as everyone seems to want to believe it is. I know that "seems" is a rather loaded, ambiguous word, and my use of it is deliberate as democratic elections are only as good as they are just and fair.

There seems to be few rules about posting election materials and the faces of Nana Akufo Addo and Professor John Evans Atta Mills, thought to be two front-runners, are everywhere. The ruling party, the National Patriotic Party, (outgoing) President Kufour's, is said to be the favourite and my sense is that they are a right-leaning party. Nana Akufo Addo is their candidate and his main press shot is so grandfatherly and cheerful it makes him look like the black Wilford Brimley (minus the moustache)! Their close rivals and opposition, the New Democratic Congress, are represented by the all-inclusive, rather liberal, umbrella, and they are pitching themselves as the party of change (this isn't the only parallel with President-elect Obama's campaign). There are eight other candidates (I think), each with its own party, but I think the only hopeful is the far-left leaning "Jack Layton" of Ghanaian politics, the Convention People's Party and their candidate Papa Kwesi Nduom. His party was formed by the father of independence, Kwame Nkrumah, but it doesn't appear (to my untrained eye) that they will win.

There is a great deal of concern of the voter registry and the carrying out of fair elections. When we first arrived here, there had been some turmoil in the north connected with the elections and while it made for a tense few weeks, it did settle down. Every party has been promoting their "manifesto" (this is the term they use for their platform) and they organize parades that march and sing around the city and the town. There are cars with big speakers and propaganda that drive around town extolling each party's message. The sellers flog fans, tissue boxes, t-shirts, calendars, scarves, flags and a host of other goods with the party logos on it, and debates can get pretty fierce, though not usually violent. The big issues are traffic, economic development (particularly around the recent discovery of oil), poverty, policing, corruption and the cost of living. Needless to say, there will be a lot of eyes on Ghana this weekend, as the voting takes place on Sunday (that's right...Sunday!). Perhaps now, you too will be watching--I sincerely hope that what you see is yet another peaceful display of the growth and progress of democracy in Ghana.

The day after I posted this entry, the following arrived in my inbox from the Canadian High Commission in Ghana:

"The High Commission of Canada would like to remind Canadian citizens that presidential and parliamentary elections are scheduled for December 7, 2008 and if necessary, a run-off election will be held on December 28, 2008. There is the potential for gatherings of large crowds, demonstrations and political rallies in all parts of the country; these should be avoided. We wish to remind Canadian citizens that even demonstrations and rallies intended to be peaceful can lead to outbreaks of violence. Canadians are advised to avoid circulating near polling stations and political offices and if possible, Canadians should remain at home on Elections Day (s). As a normal precaution, the High Commission of Canada recommends that Canadians keep extra supplies of food, water and batteries at their homes."

More to come?

Winnie the Pooh in Africa, or, Happy Birthday Materia!

2008-11-26T23:53:00.001-08:00

Akwaaba and happy birthday Materia! Yes, the small one known as "Weensy" is not so weensy anymore--she's four! As is the tradition, Materia awoke this morning to cinnamon toast (with candles) in bed and a rather groggy rendition of happy birthday to celebrate the beginning of her fifth year on the planet. She's already something of a traveller, having been born in Saskatchewan, then living in Manitoba for a year, and now she is in Africa. What's most remarkable about Materia (whose name, in Latin, means "of the human world," and is taken from the great Canadian novel Fall on Your Knees), is that she has thrived wherever we have taken her and the Ghanaian accent that she is developing is making her all the more endearing.

Her birthday just about coincided with a Winnie the Pooh event at Accra's National Centre, and being the loyal corporate licensing fans that we are (not to mention the fact that a good number of us were born in the city after which "Winnie" was named), we decided to cough up the 15 Ghana cedis per person to attend. It was not without some (rather discriminatory) trepidation that we did so, as the event was rush seating, we had never been to the National Centre, and our tickets were for 2:00 p.m., with the first show at 12:00. We wondered how they would get the first crowd out in time for us to see the show, but we also felt the 2:00 p.m. show would give them time to work the bugs out. Of course the thought also occurred to us that the power has a tendency to go out in the mid-afternoon every day.

On the Sunday of the performance, we had a small family birthday party at home (homemade, Ghanaian cocoa, chocolate cake--hooray for mom!--and FanChoco ice cream) and then we left. We arrived about fifteen minutes early after a brief pit stop at the Pizza Inn, to find that our timing was perfect and they were just letting the next wave of "fans" in. The trouble was that the last group of people were still in the building and they were just starting the on-stage pictures with Pooh and Friends. There were about 150 people waiting and I commented that it was at least a two hour line up. To the credit of the event organizers, they moved the pictures into the lobby, to make way for the opening acts (we did not know that there were any!), which consisted of a child modelling agency fashion show (Bronte knows exactly what she wants to be now...imagine her father's delight) and a youth dance troupe. Both were a pretty decent way to wait out the start of the Pooh performance, which did not begin until just after 3:30 p.m.!

All in all, it was a pretty darn good day and the kids were excellent. This, despite the fact that the performance lasted just over fifteen minutes (yes, your math is correct, that is 6 Ghana cedis a minute for our family!) and they had to wait so long. There were a few moments where Carmilla and I shared a giggle as the whole exercise of seeing Winnie the Pooh in Ghana was surreal and a little disjointed. We are not surprised though, as people are pretty quick to embrace western goods and consumption habits, and the CEOs of corporations such as Disney must get goosebumps thinking about the market potential of a largely untapped African consumer population. Of course the English teacher in me thinks it can't all be bad as Pooh's creator, A.A. Milne, is a literary giant who deserves a posthumous readership well into the future. To paraphrase Eeyore, who celebrated his "tail-aversary" in the performance, with a bit of literary license: "It's not much of a blog, but I'm kind of attached to it." I hope you are too!

Let's All Go to Osu (a.k.a. Obruni Town)

2008-11-26T03:13:00.000-08:00

I have not read of Osu being referred to as "Obruni Town" but this has become the family nickname for the area whenever we pass through as it becomes visually apparent that we are not in Manet Ville (our neighbourhood) any more. Osu proper centres around Cantonments Road that is known--outside of our family and inside of the Bradt guide to Ghana--as Oxford Street. It is probably best-known to tourists and travellers as it is centrally located, near a number of embassies and has an impressive concentration of international restaurants that would provide the nervous diner with more than a few (relatively) safe comforts of home. There are also a lot of upscale shops, grocery stores (Koala) and one or two bookstores in the immediate area. All things considered, it would probably be a pretty good "home base" for a traveller set on exploring Accra, though less appealing as a holiday oasis.

Of course with a large concentration of Obruni and other internationals, comes a large concentration of opportunists. The sellers in this area are a little more aggressive than in some other areas and I think this is because they feel they have one shot at making a sale. It has served us very well to return to markets and get to know sellers as the prices drop considerably once you've established loyalty. We had heard that Global Mamas, an NGO-type shop that sells local goods, is fairly priced and reputable, but it was closed when we tried to go. I'm sure we'll try again.

What brings us back to Osu is Frankie's, a Lebanese sports bar/restaurant that has excellent pizza and burgers. There is a huge Papaye as well and while we are dedicated fans of the grilled fish, fried rice, french fries and cheeseburgers, there is one between work and home that has become the local equivalent of the golden arches every time we pass. One of Finn's first "African" words was Papaye and our location even has two pet monkeys in a rather sad cage in the parking lot. We have also frequented the Osu Food Court, which has an indoor playground for the kids (that carries a per child "spot charge" of 1-2 cedis...ugh!). It also has a sushi bar that one of my students recommended and Carmilla and I have vowed to check out, preferably without the wee ones (sorry kids)!

This last picture doesn't so much tell the tale of Osu (though it was taken there) as it does the the story of "Mama Africa." Women do so much of the work here, and as is pictured, they give a whole new meaning to the idea of multi-tasking! Rearing children--literally and figuratively--while hauling the day's wares and selling fruit to feed the family...all in a day's impressive work!

Worth the Trip...to Busua Beach

2008-11-16T23:35:00.000-08:00

As a former resident of Manitoba, "It's worth the trip!" always conjures images and jingles of Steinbach, the automobile city, but after a 500 km round trip to Busua Beach, along the west coast of Ghana, it will inevitably become the tag line for every conversation that I ever have about the beaches we have just returned from. I know I will have lost several Canadian readers (assuming that there are several to lose!) at this point with the mere mention of beaches in November. I say again, that you are more than welcome to join us here in Ghana, where it is forever summer! By any account that we have read, Busua Beach is the best, cleanest, most tame, and crowd-free beach in Ghana. I can honestly say that these accounts were completely true.

We spend the first hour or so of any trip simply getting out of Accra, and this trip was no exception, taking more than an hour and a half to escape the city. One or two wrong turns, some good ol' family tension, more than a half a dozen hours on the road, and we pulled into the Busua Beach Resort, which was to be the reward for our perseverance. While one does not have to stay at the resort to enjoy the beach, we could not resist the urge to enjoy all of the ammenities of an ocean-front suite with a view of the ocean. For a three-room suite (living room, bedroom, and small kitchen), it cost us a mere 125 Ghana cedis and this included a full English-African oceanside breakfast, use of the pools, playgrounds, and tennis courts, and access to one of the most incredible stretches of beach we've laid our toes and eyes on.

Most resorts seem to make a good deal of their money in the restaurant and in the bar, and despite the fact that the food was quite good, this location was no exception to the rule. It is not generally uncommon at such locations for us to pay more 5 Ghana cedis for potato fries or fried rice, which is pretty steep by any standard, and outright theft by Ghanaian standards! Having noted this, there was a seaside barbecue on Saturday night, complete with a Ghanaian jazz band. The band was led by what I believe to be the world's oldest saxophone player, who also took the vocals for a few jazz standards. With the smooth jazz, the generous pile of lobster tails, and the steady, soft crashes of the ocean waves to accompany us, it is hard to complain about prices that are still mostly below what we'd pay on the prairies for anything comparable.

The ocean was the safest and most accessible we've seen because the beach is in a natural cove, and because a small island and rocky ledge provide for a breakwater (and scenic eye-candy!) just offshore. I woke up at five a.m. and watched the sunrise while the small village of Busua started to begin its work for the day. The small fishing village is pretty friendly, though I didn't venture too far at that time as I had read warnings about muggings and I like my camera. A couple of children who spoke no English, tagged along for my walk and insisted that I take pictures of them which, to be honest, I was happy to do because I'm quite shy about taking pictures of people here. It can often lead to conflict, an argument, or an intense negotiation.

There is a lot more to explore in the area and we have already vowed to return to explore the village, and the surrounding area on foot. One can walk to the next village and there are even a couple of old forts within hiking distance. Again, we have been advised to take a local guide, as this is one of the few areas in Ghana where robbery is said to be somewhat frequent. We also want to spend some time in the twin-cities of Takoradi and Sekondi, bustling market towns that we passed through along the way. There are supposed to be a few good restaurants in the area so we'll keep you posted when we return.

Before I close this entry, I have to give specific mention to the African Rainbow Resort, which sits just before the gate to where we stayed, and will likely be where we will stay next time. The co-owner and operator, a Canadian and former resident of Maidstone, Saskatchewan, has put together the sort of retreat that conjures up dreams of Casablanca, or an Ernest Hemingway novel (minus, of course, the bull-fighting, and misogyny), complete with a rooftop bar that must have one of the nicest views in Ghana. We went there specifically for the pizza and we were not disappointed, as the consensus was that it was the best pizza we have yet to have in Ghana. While I'm sure everything tastes better with a saltwater breeze in your nostrils, this pizza could have stood up against some of the best that Corydon Avenue and Little Italy have to offer.

There is no doubt that we will return (and soon!) to Busua Beach as we have covered many sandy spots along the Ghanaian coast, and this is the hands-down winner. We are thinking about staying at the African Rainbow, where we can get day passes for the pool area at BBR. I would not be at all surprised as this becomes a traditional Land family monthly excursion and it will be near the top of the list of "Things We Miss About Ghana" after we return to Canada. Of course sitting on a beach sipping a Star and being misted by ocean spray, while watching the children frolic in the ocean, does not turn one's mind to Canada very often, if at all.

Tetteh Quarshie and Ghanaian Cocoa

2008-11-14T06:14:00.000-08:00

While the title of this blog entry sounds like it might be for the West African remake of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, it is in fact about the man who--quite significantly and quite famously--smuggled the first cocoa pod into this region, thus triggering production and harvest of one of the most important traded goods in Ghana. Two of Ghanaian-born Tetteh Quarshie's original trees, planted in the 1870s, still remain on Ghana's first cocoa farm at Mampong. While the guided tour was somewhat expensive (relatively speaking and not by North American "Disneyworld-esque" standards), it was definitely worth it as we were once again afforded a private, guided tour by one of the keepers of the site and residents of Mampong, whose father has worked the plantation for nearly twenty years (we met him too!).

I had, in some deep, dark recess of my mind, a vague notion of the idea that chocolate and trees are somehow connected, but I must admit that I could not have elaborated further. in fact, you could have just as likely talked me out of a belief that chocolate actually grows on trees. I mean, who'd a' thunk it? What next...money? The cocoa tree bears, in two distinct seasons, just about as many cocoa pods as an apple tree bears apples and the pods are ripe when they turn to a bright, pumpkin-coloured orange. The harvesters use a long pole to clip the ripe pods off of the trees, then the pods are collected and taken to the next phase of processing. All of this, like so many things in Africa, is still done traditionally, by hand rather than by automation.

The pods are then split and the beans are separated from the placenta of the pods. We were given a few of these (surprisingly) sweet, soft, white beans to suck on and the outer skin tasted like lemon drops. The kids were reluctant to try them at first and were soon asking for more! Of course their parents exercised tasteful restraint, modelling decorum and tact for their offspring (and besides...our cheeks were full!). There are a few important plants that are planted alongside the cocoa trees, not the least of which are the cocoyams. Their leaves (I do hope I've got this right!) are laid out and the beans are placed between them to dry. The drying takes about seven days and the eventual outcome are beans that are covered in a peanut-like skin and are much darker in colour. Actually, they looked a lot like very large coffee beans but I may be projecting here (don't get me started on coffee again!).

The tasting of the dried cocoa beans was an even bigger hits than the taste test of the ripe ones and we were allowed to take a few for the road. These beans tasted like dark chocolate and (again, I may be fantasizing) had the texture of coffee beans. We bought some Cadbury Richoco (Cadbury, not by coincidence, is one of the bigger corporations in Ghana...and British Cadbury chocolate, dear readers, kicks the pants off of Canadian Cadbury chocolate--sorry!) for home and we have yet to have it as there are just not very many moments in the span of a day where we crave a steaming cup of hot cocoa! Of course as I type this, most of our Canadian friends and family are longing for just such a thing as they look out their windows and contemplate another (a-hem) "couple" months of winter. Whatever this entry has you longing for--the slow, painful death of its writer, or a marshmallow-laced mug of chocolatey goodness--we thank you Tetteh Quarshie!

Martinmas Lantern Walk

2008-11-14T05:29:00.000-08:00

Akwaaba! Recently, the children’s school had a Saturday evening event called The Lantern Walk. It is relatively new to us, although I think we participated in one in Victoria, B.C. some time ago. The children had been learning songs, bringing home notes, and making lanterns for a couple of weeks leading up to the walk. So, as you can imagine, anticipation was running pretty high in the Land house, especially since there was talk of something called a “toffee shower.” It turns out that the history and practice of the event are not altogether unlike Halloween.

Traditionally, the festival would take place on November 11th in a number of European countries (the director of Tall Oaks is part German and the school is very international) to honour Martin of Tours. Apparently Martin, a Roman soldier who later became a monk, famously tore his cloak in two and gave half to a beggar. In some places, children make lanterns and light candles and walk around their communities to receive gifts and candy, hence the “toffee showers” that our children received. The walk was also meant to represent an opportunity to come together in unity and put our differences aside.

On a more selfish note, it was an excellent opportunity for Carmilla and me to firm-up a couple more “grown-up” connections with a couple of parents we had met, and to meet some new people. I suspect this is also one of Tall Oaks’ ulterior, generously-placed motives. There were a few words, a few songs, and a short play prior to our departure. Following what was likely intended to be St. Martin on horseback (I wasn't sure), the walk lasted about an hour and we sang rounds of a half-a-dozen songs while the children carried their lanterns (and some of the parents carried some of the children!). The songs included a couple of lantern-specific ditties and a few old favourites such as the hokey-pokey “Ghanaian style” which was about as much (sober) fun as you can have walking down a public street without getting arrested!

This entry’s parting shot has to go to Cuyler. The look on his face as we lit his lantern with real fire says it all. The Lantern Walk was a wonderful event to be a part of and we will not soon forget the sing-song walk, the toffee shower, or the warm glow of the lanterns, under African night skies. Oh, and in anticipation of your next questions as you consider the following picture: Yes, Cuyler still has all of his skin and his hair, and, No, no children were seriously burned in the walking of these lanterns!

Waterfalls, Waterfalls, Everywhere

2008-11-13T05:19:00.000-08:00

Our most recent weekend driveabout took us from the first cocoa plantation (mmm, cocoa...separate post to come) to some spectacular rainforest waterfalls in the Akuapem Hills, outside of Accra, and north of Aburi. The first sets of falls, Asenema Waterfall, was lesser known and a little tricky to find, especially if you were to miss the roadside sign (which thankfully, we didn't). The posting at the trailhead said that we needed to call O.B. in the village in order to get permission, so we did. To be honest, I halfway considered not calling as it felt like a prime opportunity to pay far more than was reasonable for entrance to the falls. I was both surprised and embarrassed when the guide (son to the man who owns the land surrounding the falls) expected nothing from us. Once again I have underestimated the goodness of people...ugh!

The hike in to the falls was not too difficult and it afforded us the sounds and sights of a lively little stream fed by the falls. There is very good flow at this time of year, as it is the rainy season, which is why we wanted to make this trip before the dry season sets in. The man who guided us (I'm still not sure is O.B. was his name or if that was his title) explained that his family is trying to develop the site to make it more of a tourist attraction. While this would undoubtedly be very good for his family and for the village, the eco-tourist in me shuddered when he suggested that they want to alter the base of the falls to create a swimming pool for visitors. Unfortunately, I cannot argue against his thinking that this would probably bring more people, even if we would not likely be among them!

From there, we decided we had enough time to dash up to the better-known and highly recommended Boti Falls. This site is more developed, but it is so remote that it maintains a degree of rural charm. It has apparently been sold to a developer of some sort, so time will tell if it improves or not. There are 250 steps down to the base of the falls, and on the way down there are several signs warning visitors not to swim. This makes more sense when you realize that the falls open to large, shaded, sandy beach and the water appears both shallow and calm. The fear may stem from the fact that we have met very few swimmers in Ghana and we frequently see people thrashing about in the pools we visit. There was a young European couple wet and on the way up as we walked down, so unless there were more than two of them swimming, it might be safe. The big concern is usually that the water may contain bilharzia, a water born, disease-bearing parasite found in much of the fresh water in Ghana. Needless to say, we did not go for a swim.

A guide was not really necessary, but they are always "included" (for a small "dash" or tip) when people see our smiling white faces. Actually, I can't complain because the going "dash" rate is generally 50 pesewas to 1 cedi and they often end up carrying one of the children! Our faithful companion for this trek told us the story of how the falls were named. Apparently a white man asked where the falls originated, and the local man gave him the obvious and literal answer: the ledge up there. The man heard only the word "Boti" and thus the falls were named. As a citizen of "Kanata" I had to chuckle and share my own country's naming story, and we all had a good laugh at the white man's folly (Hey! Turnabout's fair play...isn't it?!). There is also a local legend attached to the falls that says one is a man and one is a woman, and while they will come very close together in the rainy season, they will never touch. Few memories will touch the ones that are being afforded our family by the beauty of Africa.

Kiss Kess and First Choice Barbering Shop

2008-11-10T09:35:00.000-08:00

As we are all becoming variations on the theme of The Shaggy Dog, we decided it was time to put our hair into the hands of a local coiffeur (et coiffeuse?), so that people may once again see our eyes. Bronte is already something of a seasoned veteran as she had gone previously to have her hair braided. Unfortunately, they didn't use elastics and her braids fell out a very short while after she got them. For our second attempt, we went back to the same place, the Kiss Kess Beauty Salon, that happens to be a comb's throw from our house. As you can deduce from the suppressed giggle and look of pride, it was a success!

The price for braiding, was a very reasonable 3 Ghana cedis, so I expect we'll be doing it again, especially since the girls have to have their hair tied back for school. This, coupled with the harsh truth that hair-brushing is not one of our favourite morning rituals (visions of Maisy from Uncle Buck leap to mind). The event consumed the better part of an hour on a lazy Saturday morning, but you won't hear me complain as I was happily slouched into a cozy chair in the air-conditioned salon, chewing my way through the rather excellent DeNiro's Game by Rawi Hage. After we returned home, it was now time for Cohen and I to seek out a barber, as Kiss Kess doesn't cut for men.

After driving around for a while and passing dozens of barbers that were too busy, we stumbled on the above shop, a tidy and quiet place down a side street in th Manet Cottage area. There are hundreds of barbers and hairdressers in the city and (not surprisingly) very few of them have any experience cutting obruni hair. This became evident in the degree to which the barber's hand shook as he steered the clippers over our shining white heads. There was a rather comedic moment after I sat down where he motioned to a poster of dozens of African men's haircuts so that I could choose one. Lucky for me (and for him), all I wanted was the #1 guard head shave. All Cohen needed was the #2 guard but that was lost in translation, at least at first. When the barber stopped to reveal Cohen's cut and get my approval, Cohen looked like a cross between a punk-rocker, a recovering brain surgery patient, and a Hasidic Jew. I saved him the indignity of snapping a picture at that moment.

We could pay more and go to higher end salons in Osu, in the diplomatic areas, in a resort, or in the mall, but we are cheap and head shaving is head shaving, wherever you live. I think Carmilla will have to splash out a few more cedis as the head shave is not really this season's look for women in Ghana. Cohen's haircut and mine cost a whole 2 Ghana cedis (yup, that's about two bucks) and judging by the way the price was suggested, I was expected to negotiate. I didn't barter, although it was tempting to have real-life grounds for singing "Shave and a haircut, two bits!" I will leave you with an excellent snap, taken by my excellent son Cohen, with his new birthday camera.

Barack Obama: Son of Africa

2008-11-07T04:12:00.001-08:00

For some reason, I found myself awake at 4:00 a.m. on Wednesday morning, about an hour and a half before I needed to be. Perhaps the promise of something momentous had stirred me, because I soon remembered that the results of the American election would be in. It has been interesting to witness the U.S. election in Ghana for a number of reasons:

1.Firstly, there is an election in Ghana that has not yet captured the imagination and hearts of the Ghanaian people the way that this U.S. election has. It is no small coincidence that corruption and cynicism run high. However, having said this, one could not say that Ghanaians are not paying attention to their own election: quite the contrary.

2. Secondly, much has been made (and rightfully so) of Barak's blood-ties to Kenya and concomitantly to Pan-Africa. What worries me a little is that he has been held up as some sort of saviour-figure for Africa and he's going to have a more than enough work set out for him on American soil without taking on Africa's vast and complicated political landscape(s).

3. The final reason I find this election noteworthy is that somewhere in its midst, a Canadian election happened with hardly a whimper (at least from where I'm writing!). I must confess that I did not vote even though I could have at the Canadian Embassy. I just didn't feel informed enough to cast my vote, but I'm sure I'd have felt confident enough to vote for Obama, given the opportunity.

I was, as many were, moved to tears and goosebumps at various moments during Obama's victory speech (and suitably impressed with McCain's concession speech). He is, it seems, a president for the planet. I heard about a BBC poll that surveyed 122 countries and 122 of them chose Barak Obama. Capturing the majority of the votes is one thing, but capturing the hearts and minds of a planet is quite another. There was, as I understand it, a national holiday declared in Kenya following the result, and here in Ghana, there was a rumour of one (that was soon quashed by the Ministry of the Interior). The hot new items for street sellers are calendars, t-shirts, posters, and books, all on the theme of Barack Obama! One of the questions will inevitably be: Where were you when you learned that Barack Obama would be the first African-American U.S. President? Why, I was in Africa, and it was, apparently, one of the continent's finest hours.

The Shangri-La...in Accra!

2008-11-05T23:48:00.001-08:00

Okay, so I'm not sure that the Shangri-La hotel in Accra qualifies as a utopian "earthly paradise," but it certainly has its appeal as an urban, Ghanaian weekend retreat. The hotel is next to our regular (and significantly less expensive) swimming spot, the Royal Granada, and it is a pretty popular haunt for tourists and business travellers alike. The grounds are beautifully landscaped and you can almost forget that you are in the heart of dirtyville, a mere stone's throw from the international airport and the hellish Tetteh Quarshie traffic circle (where we inhale our daily dose of carbon monoxide every morning).

The hotel would probably be a good choice for someone who didn't have to compete with traffic during morning rush hour because it is close to the airport and reasonably close, by car, to the heart of Accra. It is also within view of the Accra Mall and there is a bustling collection of market stalls outside the mall where you can usually find goods and prices that rival or beat what the mall has to offer. We pass it every day on the way to and from work and school, and after a botched attempt to drive to the region north of Aburi, it became a welcome consolation prize for us and especially for the kids!

Oddly enough, the hotel is as well-known for its pizza as it is for its pool. For about 10 Ghana cedis you can get a large pizza with a few toppings. The above selections were our kid-friendly choices, but the last time we ordered, we got a Neptune that had shrimps, tuna and olives, and was pretty darn yummy. As I've mentioned before, a lot of hotels have "pizza huts" by the pool that do not feature the official corporate branding or menu of the chain, but do usually offer stone ovens that can turn the average Ghanaian cook into a pizza master. We have eaten at the Chinese restaurant found inside the hotel and while it was satisfactory, I couldn't really recommend it.

The pool, as you can see, is massive and mostly deep. There is, however, a decent sized kiddie pool but it is a little out of the way and unless you can get chairs between the kiddie pool and the large pool (which is not likely), the average parent will spend most of their time in the kiddie pool or on high alert. There is a swim up bar and restaurant service under thatched roof patio tables. The rooms look to be chalet/cottage style and are spread out around the gardens, just like the resident cats that are found "sunning" all over the place (Finn was thrilled!).

Also of note is the the small art market that is adjacent to the parking lot of the hotel. It is a very reasonably-priced and accessible one-stop-shop for the average tourist or non-local because--unlike the National Cultural Centre market--people let you browse and then give a price that you can hardly argue with. We usually just pay the price we're told and now that we're practically regulars, the prices seem to be getting even better. We have bought baskets, paintings, wood-carved products, pottery, a brass candle holder, and hand-painted cards there. Each seller is usually knowledgeable and some of them are the artists themselves, or are from the village where the goods are produced. Shopping, swimming, stone-fired pizza, and the balmy West African sun...it would be hard to complain!

Tricks, Treats and The Amazing Race

2008-11-03T07:48:00.000-08:00

Akwaaba! Well it’s Halloween in North America but not in Ghana. As you can imagine, our children are feeling pretty ripped off right about now as they have been denied their yearly haul of sugar-infused booty. (It is worth noting here that the parents were also feeling somewhat slighted as they were always sure to buy "more than enough" candy for the trick-or-treaters!) Not only that, but the build-up to Halloween—including costume selection (and several re-selections), events such as Boo at the Zoo and various costume parties—has also been stolen from them. I feel the word stolen is not too strong a word as Halloween, culturally speaking, is a right of passage and falls only just behind birthdays and Christmas in the hiearchy of events cherished by kids. It was a significant moment in my life when my mother lovingly sewed my Ace Frehley (of Kiss) costume, my father spray-painted my rubber boots silver, and I did my own makeup, before hitting the streets as a rather campy looking member of the Kiss Army. If I were in Canada I would scrounge for the photo evidence of my grade three costume selection so that you could eat your heart out but alas, I am not, so you will have to rely on your imagination and Googled pictures of ol’ Ace.

But enough about me…this is entry is about The Amazing Race: Halloween in Ghana Edition. We are pretty big on family traditions, particularly as they have been an important touchstone when we travel to a new home. One of our traditions has been to watch The Amazing Race together. This last year we even had a family pool wherein we picked our favourite pair and then cheered them on. What’s really important about this is the time spent together (does it still count if it’s in front of a TV?!) and that we had fun. Oh, and that I won this year’s selection pool. Well, to make a long story at least a little shorter, we decided to plan a Halloween scavenger hunt, Amazing Race Style.

Challenges included recounting the ring tone of our driver Douglas (“You are blessed in your family…you are blessed in your relationships…you are blessed in your finances…”), balancing a pillow on your head like a street seller, eating a banana like a baboon, doing African drumming and dancing (the kids take this at school), counting in French or German (also at school), or doing an impersonation of a tro-tro driver.

Clues were hidden throughout the house and the race concluded with each of the kids having to throw together an impromptu costume and say “trick or treat” to their parents. For the trick, they had to bob for an apple, and for the treat, they each got a big bag of candy (of course!), much of which was given to us recently by the Manitoba school inspection team, the Manitoba hiring agent, and because some care packages arrived from home. The festivities culminated in a family movie night (usually Fridays, with popcorn and pizza…though this time with KD from a care package—woo-hoo!) viewing of It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown and Fat Albert’s Halloween Special. (A special shout out to Graboid Video!)

Those who know us best will also know that there is a certain other family celebration that happens on this day: our anniversary! I continue to be the luckiest spouse I know and I have been enjoying the excellent company of my fabulous partner Carmilla for sixteen years (“unofficially” eighteen from the very beginning) today. Our tradition always includes an evening of trick-or-treating, followed by Chinese takeaway and a movie, after the kids are in bed. This year, I am relieved to report, was no exception.

Cohen 10

2008-10-26T00:57:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's true, Cohen has officially blown the candles out on his tenth birthday! This is the part where those closest to Cohen begin to wonder if they actually are getting older and if it is really possible that Cohen is ten, or if this is just a cruel hoax or careless typing error (alas, it is neither of the latter two!). It has, I can assure you, been a time for family reflection as our oldest hits double digits. In many ways, the story of his life is the story of our travels and the story of my career, as I'm in my tenth year of teaching: Winnipeg to Europe to Winnipeg to the Canadian North to rural Saskatchewan to rural Manitoba and finally to Africa. It provides for a nice piece of symmetry that Cohen was one in England and now Cuyler is one in Africa. Cohen liked the symmetry of "Cohen 10" and "Ben 10," a program he rather enjoys.

And how does one celebrate one's birthday in Ghana? Well, for starters, you get cinnamon toast in bed as it's something of a family tradition. (The above picture captures both the moment as well as the dividends of the prison-ration diet of bread, bananas, rice and carrots that Cohen strictly adheres to.) Then, you invite your new buddy Kofi over for a day of video games, movies, swimming, and a sleepover. The day included the last golden box of KD, French toast, pizza, chicken nuggets, gummy candy, ice cream and fries, in the desperate hope that the lad may retain a few calories! Of course splashing around in a tropical pool for a couple of hours makes this a rather hopeless proposition.

Oh, and of course, there were presents to be opened and cake to be eaten. Carmilla was wise in that she brought some basic party favours--balloons, plates, candles, etc.--but we have already added cake mixes and creamy deluxe icing to our pack list for next year (if there is a next year). For now, we had to buy them from the Max Mart, where your ex-pat shopping dreams can come true...for a hefty price! We managed to track down a few gifts locally and he had previously suggested that we give him our other digital camera (gently used!) as a gift, so we took him up on it. He has been talking quite seriously about becoming a wildlife photographer for National Geographic and we believe him. Given his life experiences so far and his abiding passion for animals and their protection, it makes perfect sense. Like many young boys, he has taken to looking at National Geographic strictly for the pictures, though in this instance, his motives are entirely pure! Happy birthday son!

Mini-Safari in the Shai Hills

2008-10-20T10:33:00.000-07:00

Akwaaba! On our most recent day trip, we decided it was time to make our way inland again so we zipped up to the Shai Hills Resource Reserve, a wildlife sanctuary well within striking distance of Accra. Actually, I think the park is within the Greater Accra Region, so once you leave the traffic of Accra behind, it takes about 30-40 minutes. The highlight of the park (as you have likely already deduced from the above picture) is the presence of about a dozen or so families of olive baboons. The family we saw tends to hang out near the park gate and is pretty photogenic.

This picture, snapped just outside the park, captures some of the struggles that any such wildlife reserve will tend to face. Fortunately, due in part to the species present, poaching is not a serious concern in the park. However, once the animals are outside of the protection of the park, they are vulnerable to traffic and other human activity. As you can imagine, the park also has some of the nicest savannah grassland habitat around, which is a temptation for local farmers and their grazing cattle. The problem with this is that these herds take command of an area in a hurry, and leave little for the species who need graze within the park. Apparently it is not uncommon for the park wardens to have to shoot one of the herd as they try to encourage them out of the park and they charge.

There are other species of monkey, reptiles, kob antelope and bushbuck in the park but I think because of the time of day, the huge tour bus groups that tramped through just before us, and our small-legged limitations, we didn’t see them. There were—to Carmilla’s chagrin and Cuyler’s delight—a number of rather large insects such as giant snails and millipedes, along with dozens of (more pleasing) butterflies.

Mafu was our guide and he has been at this park for about thirteen years. I suspect that most of his pay comes in the form of room and board for him and his family. One of these energetic children is his and this is the employee housing within the park. He said that not too long ago a huge python came and hung around the gate for a day before moving a little further into the bush to die. It is rare that people would get to catch a glimpse of the python (no small mercy, I’d say!), so it was cause for excitement and concern.

We were a bit surprised to be run off the path by what appeared to be logging trucks. When I asked, Mafu explained that they were removing the Neem trees that were encroaching on the grassland. He explained that these trees had medicinal significance for the Shai people. He said that they boiled them and then draped a blanket over top of the mixture with their head underneath. It was supposed to help with malaria and fever--sort of a vapo-rub Ghanaian-style!

We also got to hike up into some bat caves that are still used for the traditional ceremonies of the Shai people every year. (And yes, there were hundreds of bats!!) There are a number of shrines spotted throughout the park as well. In the cave there is a gathering place that is centered around the light provided by the natural opening at the top. Cohen is pictured—with our guide’s permission—in the seat of the chief. (King Cohen of the “shy” people? It works!) The Shai people used to hide in the hills in times of conflict and to escape the slave trade but they were eventually chased out by the British. The area became protected in the sixties, but the Shai people are permitted to return to their traditional lands throughout the year.

Our guide, admission fees and vehicle charge for the day amounted to a surprisingly reasonable 12 Ghana cedis (about the same in Canadian dollars)! After spending most of the morning in the reserve, we went to the Shai Hills Resort, the only choice for some miles and reloaded our food and water humps, as we had not brought anything into the park with us. While they could probably charge more and be less palatable, they were actually fairly priced and the food was very good. A lucky break because we had little choice in the matter! All in all, our first (mini) African safari was a worthwhile excursion and there were many reflective moments and long sighs as we gazed across the long savannah landscape and reminded ourselves (yet again) that we are in Africa!

Day Trippers in Ghana: Akosombo and in Between!

2008-10-19T02:22:00.000-07:00

We're back from another Saturday spent wandering the Ghanaian landscape that lies within reach of Accra with another set of snaps and memories to show for it. The highlight of this walkabout was definitely the Shai Hills Resource Reserve so I will save that for a separate entry and cover the day's other moments here. The above picture of Twin Rock is taken from the roadside in the Greater Accra Region, shortly after leaving Tema. The landscape is remarkably lush as one approaches the Volta Region, with rocky formations jutting out along the way. We could not help being reminded of "Pride Rock" from the The Lion King when we first laid eyes on one! To the west were the hills near Aburi, where we visited previously.

This region seems to be known for traditional bead-making and had we taken a different route, we would have taken in Cedi's Bead Factory. The unit of currency used to be the small cowry shell, called a cedi, hence the origin of the name today. We stopped at a spot where there were a couple of market stalls run by the women who made most of the jewelry they were selling. We can quickly get overwhelmed by sellers who pick up the kids, place clothing on them or give them toys or souvenirs, depending on the market, but this one was unique in that we were allowed to browse. For about ten Ghana cedis, we bought two bracelets, two necklaces, and two key chains. To be honest, I think we overpaid, but that is a relative matter of perspective. Cuyler even selected a bracelet and then proceeded to change his mind roughly 70 times in the span of a minute and a half. Below are brass pieces that would be more in keeping with that which was worn by the Ashanti people, though they used gold, not brass.

The turnaround point for our journey was the Akosombo Dam in the tourist village of Akosombo. The village itself was a pristine, gated community that is thought by many in Accra to be a jewel in Ghana's great crown. The village was originally built as a home for the hundreds of workers who constructed the dam. One is left with the impression, rather ironically, that for many in the surrounding villages and rural areas the dam is a rather cruel and constant reminder of the power shortages they face in the long shadow cast by hydro towers that don't seem to be there for their benefit. With an election on the horizon (more about this in a later entry), this is a significant issue. We saw more than a few makeshift, roadside signs that declared: No lights, no vote! This might explain why those in rural areas are a little less quick to boast of the splendour of the dam.

The dam is an impressive monument to industrialization and development in much the same way that the Hoover Dam is. We spent the same duration admiring it as we did at the U.S.'s version--roughly the amount of time it took to snap the above picture. The region is (admittedly) a finer, greener tribute to what is one of Kwame Nkrumah's greater contributions to Ghana. One cannot deny the impressive, sustainable impact that the massive Volta Lake has had on agriculture and development in much of Ghana. Below is an example of the Volta's ecoregion and a section of the largest manmade lake in the world.

By the time we had arrived and looked around a little, the day's heat (and the earlier explorations in Shai Hills Reserve) had taken their toll. As has become our custom, it was time to seek a poolside refuge to quell or spirits and our imaginations. Worthy to the task today was the Afrikiko Resort, a little south of Akosombo. It cost a mere 12 Ghana cedis for all of us and we had, as the picture foretells, the entire pool to ourselves for the afternoon. The pools in Ghana almost always have a kiddie pool and I must say that each time we dip our toes into a tropical oasis such as this one, our family's sanity--always in jeopardy on a heat-infused roadtrip--is immediately restored. All of the children are becoming pretty darn comfortable paddling around in the water. Of course Cuyler and Materia have water wings or a life jacket, and at least one parent within arm's reach.

The hotel was reminiscent of something one might find in the Lake District (without the dreary rain, damp cold and whopping prices!) and one could once again imagine spending entirely too much time here. On the way home, we enjoyed a round of Fan ice cream which comes in a little pouch that you bite the corner off of and then squeeze out the creamy deliciousness. The sellers ride bikes that cannot resemble Dickie Dee sellers so closely by coincidence alone. They don't have bells but they do have a little clown car horn that sets us to Pavlovian drool in a highly vulnerable hurry! As we had a late lunch and no supper, we also gobbled up a couple of bags of plantain chips, another family road trip favourite that has become the African version of Twizzlers or Old Dutch Popcorn Twists. Hmmm...if only I were paid for such blatant product placements. Who among us doesn't have a craving at this very moment?

Paradise Found in Ghana...Again!

2008-10-16T13:31:00.000-07:00

Akwaaba! I truly hope that our repetitive accounts of an assortment of Ghana's finest and utterly deserted beaches and resorts do not become mundane or tiresome for the one or two readers who may have hung on to this point. Of course, these spots are neither mundane nor tiresome for us, so we'll just carry on sunning, frolicking and snapping shots, if it's all the same to you! This latest batch of family photos was captured at Till's Beach Hotel at Gomoa Fetteh, west of Accra, in case you're puting push pins in your map of Ghana. It is worth noting bluntly and right out front, that this was by far the cleanest and most accessible stretch of beach we have seen to date in Ghana.

Our latest discovery happened (you may be delighted to hear at this point) after being shunned at a rather posh resort called White Sands. We drove for about an hour and a half (approx. 89 minutes of which was spent getting out of Accra) to be told in an almost-sympathetic tone that the resort was for members only. Their version of pity amounted to a consolation offer of 25 Ghana Cedis a head (yes, that's a whopping $150.00 Canadian!), so we almost-gracefully declined and zipped around the corner, quite literally, to Till's. We were not to be disappointed on this day as our plans broke in the most extraordinary way.

They did not charge us for entry, but that may be because we ate at the restaurant, which was pretty darn good and had children's meals. The service was excellent all round and the view from the restaurant (pictured above) was stunning. There is mini-golf, life size chess (Clear Lake style!) and outdoor ping pong and checkers. They were generally kid-friendly and we'll likely return soon as the ocean was manageable, even with the kids. The picture of Cohen and Bronte does capture some of the force of the ocean in these parts and the older two are pretty aware of the danger. This may have something to do with our hyperbolic attempts to instill terror into their swimmer's hearts. Materia generally plays it safe, but the following picture will offer a glimpse at the growing concern that is Cuyler "Superpower" Land as he breaks for the wake. As soon as each wave knocked him squarely on his "little swimmer" diaper, he bounced back up, giggling like a drunken sailor with a crush, ready for the next hit. Carmilla and I took turns grabbing him by the pants and hoisting him to his feet, at once faithful pub bouncers for our little saltwater swilling ruffian.

I said to Carmilla that it was the first place I could imagine us (affording to) spend a week at. We halfway considered a spontaneous overnight but that is a bit tricky with the clan in tow and while the rooms were both reasonably priced and stylishly appointed (each with a private balcony opening to a view of the ocean), we headed back to Accra to "enjoy" the traffic. While you may resent us for gloating, please at least give us credit for sharing this location--the temptation to keep it all to ourselves was difficult to resist. Now you know!

Waking Up at Black Coffee Pond, or, Make Tea Not War

2008-10-12T02:11:00.000-07:00

Akwaaba! Those who know us will not be surprised in the least to find that we are dedicating an entire entry to coffee. Those who do not know us and have stumbled upon this blog, will soon know us by our addiction: coffee! The above picture and part of the title of this entry are of/from a card that was sent by a good, rather intuitive friend (props to Tanny Mac!) who correctly prophesied our plight and tripped over the perfect card. It was also, as serendipity would have it, the first piece of mail we received in Ghana. A moment of sheer poetry to be sure (small wonder she's Canada's best wordsmith). Sadly, and as you may have suspected, we have not (yet?!) had the blissful awakening enjoyed by the prancing giraffes in the picture.

Needless to say, things are pretty bleak here on the (un)dark(roast) continent, and our mugs have runneth relatively empty. "The horror! The horror!" (digs here to Joseph Conrad). This is at the very least tremendously ironic as many of our favourite coffees originate from the very soil we inhabit. A certain corporation-in-sheep's-clothing (read as "Starbucks") boasts Sumatran, Kenyan and Gold Coast (Ghana's former name!) brews but we are left without. Don't get me wrong, I'm not wishing the big market bliss, er...I mean "nightmare" that is Starbucks on Accra, but can't a guy get a little Vancouver, Toronto, Montreal, Seattle, Paris, Turkey or Italy here?!

I must also give a shout out to the British, for their legacy in Ghana will be lasting...in tea. We have re-instituted our prior evening ritual (from Leicester) of a stiff cuppa after suppa, and this has made for a sensible replacement for our evening coffee. There are some of our favourite brands in the Max Mart (alas, no Marks and Sparks Earl Grey) and the other part of the title for this entry ("Make Tea Not War") is actually a quote from Monty Python's Flying Circus that I lifted off of our cello-bag wrapper of Ty-Phoo tea. While a nice spot of tea is lovely in its on right, it will always live--in our lives and on our palates--in the long shadow cast by a bold cup of joe. Now that I think on it, complaining about the lack of good coffee in Africa feels rather at least as British and colonial as it is trivial and superficial. Well, bully for me!

When I think of coffee, I often think of television's Friends. Chandler was a closet-smoker and he once had a cigarette in the Central Perk, uttering the line: "Hello dark mother--I am once again suckling at your teat." When I find a purveyor of black beans, I will be sure to utter the same line. As an almost unrelated aside, Carmilla and I dreamed briefly of opening a coffee house in Winnipeg (roughly a hundred years ago and before our dozen-or-so children) in what is now the new Klinic building on Broadway. We planned to have a TV upstairs that constantly ran episodes of Friends and Seinfeld. On the middle floor, of course, there would have been an ongoing used book swap. I mention this just in case you doubted how seriously dependent we are on our morning caffeine injections. It was almost what we did for a living. Now we just do it in order to live. We are once again entertaining becoming the solution to our own problem as there is certainly an ex-pat market for it!

Part of the problem is that while we have found a decent producer of java--South Africa's House of Coffees--we have been unable to find a decent substitute for coffee cream. The claim of Everfresh is almost as scary as it true but these UHT processed milks tend to suck the joy (literally and figuratively) out of dairy product. We have even tried an assortment of evaporated milks, but they too have fallen short. The other thing about finding a coffee we like is that by the time we try it and decide we are ready for more, there is none of it to be found. This has been the case for many things and we are beginning to buy all of what we find, when we find it. We figured this out too late for our latest batch of coffee so we have resorted to this, which I shall call "Italian Surprise," for the next couple of weeks. Wish us luck.

From Little Acorns Grow Tall Oaks

2008-10-08T11:49:00.000-07:00

I think the above picture serves as a pretty telling topic sentence for this entry. The kids have been enrolled in private school at Tall Oaks International School (Cuyler and Materia are in the primary, called Little Acorns) for a few weeks now and things are going pretty well. One of the other parents called Tall Oaks "Accra's best-kept secret" and based on the relatively low price, the attention to caring, and the extent to which the kids are thriving under the imperial weight of the British curriculum, German classes, Tae Kwon Do and piano, I'd be inclined to agree. Below, is a picture of Brontë getting measured by the uniform seamstress, Paula, in her shop. Cohen's uniforms were sewn by Abu, who also works magic with fabric.

It is a little bit odd that while Ghana was one of the first in Africa to distance itself from British rule, they have wholeheartedly embraced the British curriculum. Like I'm one to talk, here peddling the oh-so-un-colonial Canadian curriculum (Like, okay Mr. Land, tell us again--do you have a queen or don't you?!). But seriously, aside from the culture, religion, government, education, and language, it has pretty much been a clean break and Ghana has never looked back. We try to explain to our children why pounds and pence are the most important currency in the world, and why a student in year two is memorizing dictation passages from the Diary of Samuel Pepys, but I think we are neither compelling, nor convinced ourselves.

Our days begin remarkably early here in Ghana, because (quite logically) days are measured by the sun, which, at this point in relation to the equator, makes for roughly a twelve hour day that begins at 6:00 a.m. and ends at 6:00 p.m. As we leave by 6:30 a.m.--to fight through traffic and get me to work for 7:30 and the kids to school for 7:55--and return before 5:00 p.m., we hardly see night. Perhaps the title for this blog should be "365 Days of Day." Feels taken. Cuyler cries every day when he is dropped off and this is felt to be a backhanded compliment as well as an excruciating moment of parental heartbreak. Today he didn't break down because it was puzzle day--we have mixed emotions, and are still licking our wounds as I type this. He is always happy (though tired) when we pick him up and the nursery school teachers are two of the friendliest women in the world, so it is hard to be worried.

Cohen wants me to say that despite the fact that his class is very small (12 students), it is very loud. Contrary to popular belief, this recommends a school to me, rather than opening a classroom door to utter peace and quiet. A number of things appealed to us (and the kids!) about this school because they teach French, German, World Issues, World Religions (but are not a faith-based school), African Drumming and Dancing, and Music. Extra-curricular clubs include Tae Kwon Do (free!), piano (less than 5 dollars for each half-hour private lesson!), and tie-dye club. Then, on "free love" days we all bring our Volkswagen vans, paint flowers on them, make peace placards for our rallies, and listen to Grateful Dead records (okay, this last bit doesn't happen but it seemed my description was moving in a certain direction). Did I mention the "Fun with Hemp" club?

School supplies are pretty poor and relatively expensive in Ghana, but I think the government has tried to make decent, affordable supplies available as part of its fee-free schools campaign. We brought a few things from home, but would have brought a lot more (to share with some of the rural areas!), had we known. Tall Oaks hosted a Family Fun Day that was a fundraiser for AfriKids and Schools for Life, two non-denominational NGOs dedicated to helping kids in Ghana and elsewhere in Africa. We have not yet seen it first hand, but things are very different in the rural (especially northern) regions of Ghana. Even though school is fee-free for children, many cannot be spared by their families who need them to work, do life-sustaining chores, or look after their siblings. These organizations help these families to become more sustainable so that their children are free to go to school. Important work and we are planning to get more involved as a family and as a school in Ghana. Don't be surprised if this is a theme for our summer of 2009 across-Western-Canada tour.

The highlight of day for Cuyler was the football training clinic (where he stole the ball from), while Brontë and Materia were thrilled to lay their mitts on real Play Doh! The highlight for mom and dad was buying this meticulously handwoven basket that is currently serving quite nicely as the kids' library.

Large streams from little fountains flow

Greater heights from humble beginnings

Tall oaks from little acorns grow

Akwaaba!

Ryan

Rainforest Rope Bridges in Kakum N.P.!

2008-10-05T08:27:00.000-07:00

We are halfway thinking about a Christmas safari in Northern Ghana, but until such time, our morning spent in, or rather "above" Kakum National Park, will have to stand as the highlight of our days in Ghana thus far. The national park itself is impressive enough and the vast expanse of rainforest would be well worth exploring on foot. We stayed at the Hans Cottage Botel (see earlier entry) which was on the Kakum N.P. road and was pretty much the closest above average accommodation in the immediate area and outside of Cape Coast.

The main, rather hair-raising, attraction of the park, is the rope bridge walk, suspended above the rainforest canopy. It consists of seven rope walks that are as high as forty metres above the forest floor. In the above picture, you can just make out a person with a white t-shirt on the bridge perched high above the rainforest. It was equal parts harrowing, breathtaking, and exhilarating and unless you have a pretty intense fear of heights (speaking here as someone who has a fair bit o' fear himself), you too could conquer it! It was cause for a great moment of national pride when we learned that two Canadians were a part of the small team that constructed the bridges. There were moments where I could forget the map and the truth of our present geography and be transported to the rainforests of BC, namely Carmannah. I do feel as though I am treading heavily through sacred ecological ground in such places, but I'm also aware of the ironic truth that eco-tourism has, to a large extent, saved such places. Even Kakum N.P. has been affected by extensive logging in its recent past, though we saw no evidence of it.

Some of you are probably wondering about the kids, particularly our one-year-old Cuyler (a.k.a. Finn). Children can only go on the walkway if they can walk by themselves, and as Cuyler is very much an active 21 month old, we decided to give it a go. Carmilla and I took turns walking behind him, as he wobbled along and fell against the side mesh a couple of times. At one point his shoe fell off and Carmilla had a tiny heart attack! Thankfully, the bridges were closed in and we were able to recover both the shoe and a degree of our emotional stability.

We were on the bridges with a group of about thirty people, and we went last as we expected to be well behind the pace. Douglas, who has quietly become so much more than our driver, also came along for the walk. He pitches in with the kids like an adopted uncle and has made a number of excursions that much more enjoyable. He joined the group of people, who were waiting on the final platform, in a thunderous round of applause as Cuyler stepped off the last walkway. People were taking pictures of him as he approached the end, and he was--to be perfectly honest--pretty oblivious to any and all danger or accomplishment. I think I remember learning in psychology that fear of heights is learned, and this is a feather in the cap of him never learning such fear!

I am sorry to say that wildlife once again eluded us while on the walk. This is, in all likelihood, due to the fact that we sound similar to a cape buffalo-like herd of elephant-sized monkeys when we travel anywhere. The only thing noisier in the wilderness is progress. We did not have a chance to linger in the park and we were all feeling pretty satisfied with our having survived the walk. Cohen's shirt declares "Cool as Ice" (below) and despite the humidity of the rainforest (who turned that damned greenhouse mister on again?!) we were all feeling the statement to be true, that is after we had returned to terra firma.

Poolside in Accra

2008-10-04T13:47:00.000-07:00

It will be difficult to convey sincerity within this entry, but let me say that I do hope that you are not reading this entry, or looking at the pictures, whilst feeling the promise of winter in the chilled, autumn air. I decided to open with this picture in case you thought I was getting any sexier in Ghana, and just to level the playing field a little (since most of the pictures are of everyone and everything but me!). It gives me a modicum of comfort to note that at least I am not beached. Suffice to say that this will not likely be the cover shot for Sports Illustrated swimwear edition, unless of course they are looking to fill (pun intended) out a shot with some marine life. But enough about me, let's have a word or two about weekends in West Africa! As you can see, even Cuyler wants me to get on with it.

In Accra, there are dozens and dozens of resorts and hotels, some of which are on the ocean, and some of which are not. Most of these have outdoor pools, poolside restaurants and/or bars, and are surrounded by palm trees along with a lush variety of other tropical plants. For a fee, anyone can use these facilities, much like a public pool. We had read about a number of good places and so we have started to try these out. Eventually, we may even buy a yearly membership, if we find one we want to use often enough. The first three pictures were taken at the Royal Granada Hotel, which is not on the ocean, but is very close to where we live. It also cost us a mere 14 Ghana Cedis for all of us to spend the day poolside. We were able to order a moderately priced meal, served poolside, and we pretty much had it to ourselves for the day.

The other resort that we checked out is soon to be a Ramada Hotel and is located right on the ocean. It is still called the New Coco Beach Resort for now, and its pool area (above) is at least as impressive as its location (below). Again, we don't really get to enjoy more than a stroll along the beach as the water is always pretty rough in these parts and our kids have not yet internalized the difference between success in swimming lessons in a highly regulated, supervised pool, and the terrifying tide and current of the Atlantic Ocean (which, incidentally, does not care if you have your "little shark" badge).

New Coco had two separate "kiddie" pools and should soon have its playground open again (currently part of the renovations). The pool was pretty busy compared with the Royal Granada, but it is massive, so we never felt we were in anyone's space. With six of us, that in itself is saying something. For all six of us for the day, it was a whopping 20 Ghana Cedis. The most we have heard of would be for La Palm or the Labadi Beach Resort, and these would run around 40 Ghana Cedis. One of the best parts was surely the fact that one of the resort restaurants is called the "Pizza Hut" and they served fresh, authentic pizza that we were able to gobble up seaside.

In essence, we can have all the safety, relaxation, service, beauty and convenience of an oceanside, urban resort, without the bother of a rather steep overnight charge. Imagine Jamaica within a short drive of Winnipeg--you get to enjoy the balmy tropics poolside, and then sleep in your bed. We will try others for sure, but the two we have checked out thus far both offer their own advantages.

Hans Cottage Botel!

2008-09-30T00:14:00.000-07:00

On the weekend that we went West to Cape Coast and beyond, we stayed overnight at the Hans Cottage Botel, a rather excellent little spread that is nestled inland, in the bush between Kakum National Park and the coast. We originally discovered it on our own, only to discover that it was featured in "the book" (Bradt's Ghana) all along. I'm not sure why we resist as the guide has yet to fail us. As you can see by the pictures above and below, the highlight of the "botel" was the fact that the restaurant, bar and gift shop were on stilts in a swamp inhabited by several Nile crocodiles!

The restaurant area was walled in, but the walkway railings were just open enough to allow for a Finn-sized morsel to hop into the water to "play" with the crocodiles (Finn utters a throaty "oooohhhhh" right about now). The parents were definitely on high alert and we resisted the photo-opportunity that presented itself as Cohen begged us to let him touch the crocodile's tail as it sunned on the shore. A number of tourists did this and I had clear images of When Animals Attack and Faces of Death, as will those of you have seen either of these programs will. Feel free to use your imagination to picture Cohen touching the tail, as we (in a rare moment of parenting wisdom) exercised our judgement. Needless to say, we are still enjoying Cohen's company to this very day!

At this time of year, the resort was all but empty--aside from the one tour bus that came and went--so we had the run of it. The above peeing statue was almost as big a hit as the crocodiles and it is also symbolic of every road trip we've taken as the men (and sometimes the women) let it fly whenever the urge takes them. Carmilla and I politely avert our eyes and say nothing while Brontë giggles with mischief!

There are many levels of accommodation, but we (out of necessity) opted for one of the chalets, conveniently and comfortably distant from the crocodiles. The chalet was actually a massive two bedroom house, with a full kitchen, dining room and living room. A bit of bug spray, a tangle with a rather terrifying looking spider, and a lizard chased out with a broom, and we were ready to move in! It was pretty reasonably priced (160 Ghana Cedis) as it included breakfast for all, use of the pool, and a room for Douglas, our trusted driver. The pool was pretty fantastic and exactly what we needed. It was surrounded by a kiddie wading pool that went a good long way to keeping everyone amused and cool. The kids even taught Douglas to pencil swim. We joked that we are turning Douglas, son of farmers, into a man of the sea. The resort has managed to be eco-friendly as it is embedded in a habitat rich with wildlife, including dozens of birds, and even monkeys (though we didn't catch a glimpse). There are trails that weave in and out of the bush and on the weekends, there is entertainment. We ate Fan ice cream and danced to highlife music after supper, and the kids were thrilled. Carmilla and I seem to have replaced coffee with Star beer...not sure that this is a good thing!

The botel is about two hours from the city, so we won't likely come back here very often. This is one of the major advantages of being along a coast littered with resorts as we can dash away for one night of bliss whenever the city starts to get the better of us. We are currently looking for a city resort where we can use the pool, access the beach, and have a little something to eat, without the overnight charge or two hour drive. The day-user fee is usually 5 Cedis for adults and less for children, so we'll let you know when we find one.

Fear and Loathing in West Africa

2008-09-25T07:23:00.000-07:00

Okay, in case you think that our time and our transition into Africa have been all pineapples and beach huts, this rant will be a bit of a tell-all exposé. Let me provide a disclaimer by saying that we do, honestly and truly, love Ghana. Having said this, my pampered, sanitized, delicate, punctual, efficient, orderly, anally-retentive sensibilities have been tested, here in Africa. I had thought about calling this posting "Ten Things I Hate about Ghana" but I don't think there are ten things, and "hate" is too strong a word for something written with my tongue planted firmly in my pretentious, sucky, stereotyping cheek.

Humidity sucks. I knew that I would not like this as I have been to Florida, and I have tried to acclimatize by resisting AC as much as possible, so I keep telling myself that I'll get used to it. Fat chance. When I walk outside it is as though I have wrapped my lips around a humidifier--only hotter and wetter. As I write this, my mind is wandering to the next love poem I will write to the air conditioners in my life. I will spare you some of the damp and gory details of my new life in a humidor, but I am constantly reminded of something I would say to a friend in school when we would get sweaty--I think I could star in The Shining. Then, it was playful overstatement and now it is but the opposite. A few minutes in the African sauna and I am surrounded by hippopotamus as I have formed my own watering hole.

Reading about "Ghanaian Time" did not prepare me for its reality. As an accomplished multi-tasker, I am deeply troubled by the general sense that if I get one thing done, it has been a good day. If someone says they will meet me in the morning, it means I will see them at roughly one o'clock the following day (To their credit, most people will call mid-afternoon to postpone the meeting to the following day). The answer to "When will it happen?" is inevitably "tomorrow" or "Saturday" but these are not commitments, they are merely attempts not to disappoint you because the Ghanaians don't like conflict. Of course, given the choice between conflict and doing what has been agreed to, they ultimately choose conflict, so it is a losing war of attrition for me, most of the time.

I need a hobby. The kind of hobby that would sustain me through traffic jams that are overtaken by hobbled, three-legged lizards. Knitting? Toothpick-whittling? Wrist-slitting? These and so many possibilities have sprung to mind as I have wiled away many hours in the ten minute drive to work that has become a bumper to bumper crawl in the midday heat. There is an election on the horizon in Ghana and I have become a fervent campaigner. My slogan? Vote for roads. I did think about investing in a motorcycle, as I see them whipping in and out of traffic all the livelong day. When I mused about this out loud one day, our driver, Douglas, explained that it would not be a good idea because there is no law against knocking a motorcyclist off of their bike. This may or may not be true, but I am staying in the car. Ghanaians are generous, hard-working, kind, God-abiding people, but when they enter a car, a beast overtakes them that morph the average driver into a pedestrian-mowing, bumper-mashing, horn-blasting maniac. There are few exceptions from what I have seen. Vote for roads, or the country will fall to the rage that is traffic.

I have a special power and I don't want it. My mutant ability is that I can make prices go higher with the colour of my skin. My new superhero name is Obroni Man because "obroni" (a.ka. white person) is what people shout at me to get me to come over and see what I've done to their prices. The real problem is (and it is about as superficial a problem as I can muster) that there is no middle class in Ghana. There are the "have lots" and the "have nots" and nothing (except us!) in between. The only imaginable socioeconomic possibility for someone of my hue, is that I sleep on a diamond encrusted mattress stuffed with Ghana Cedis and I wipe my a...er, my nose, with hund'ed dolla' bills (y'all). While a resident of Ghana generally has the shrewd negotiating skills to bargain for a fair price, and--to be bluntly honest--the suntan to be given the benefit of the doubt, I have neither. I am thinking of working on a Canadian-Ghanaian dictionary (hmmm...hobby?) and I have jotted down synonyms for obroni: moneybags, sucker, golden pockets, ATM.

Capitalism gives me nightmares. I'm sure the sellers (pictured above in the ever-growing shadow of the Accra Mall) have similar nightmares. Accra is bursting with people and development but the city has neither the systems in place to deal with it, nor the regulations to make it sustainable, and goodness knows that the last thing the planet needs--despite what Wal-Mart and Oprah would want us to believe--is another continent filled with hyper-consumers. I choose to call out Wal-Mart and Oprah intentionally, as the Shoprite at the Accra Mall bears a striking resemblance to the corporate giant (falling prices mean I can buy South African bananas for less than I can buy from local market sellers...hmmm), and "O" magazine is offered to me by street vendors on daily basis. All those shiny, happy environmental niceties that are pumped into our leaden heads during commercial breaks (Toyotas turning our city streets into putting greens--in and of themselves oh-so-good for the environment--before our hopeful, lusting eyes) have been shot from the skies in favour of the open season that is the African market. Please sir, may I be excused...my planet's full.

And for a short closing list, I will leave you with a few peeves and grumbles to serve as honourable mentions, that surely would have been added if blogs were as eternal as Accra traffic, or if my family had been given their due: morning "trickle" showers; afternoon football in the blistering heat; dodgy internet, power outtages and all infrastructure in general; vendors in traffic (except when they're selling what we want--oh, aren't we spoiled?!); corruption; insects and lizards in general (while some of us actually like lizards, others of us--who are named Carmilla--live in a constant state of high alert, fearing that gappy-mouthed lizards will rain from the sky at any moment).

Gold Coast: A Great and Terrible Beauty

2008-09-23T07:21:00.000-07:00

Before Ghana gained its independence from Britain in 1957, it was known as Gold Coast. This is because at one time, 1/10 of the world’s gold came from this area. Unfortunately, this region is also known, certainly more infamously, for its massive export of slaves. Aside from the residual, colonial impact of Britain (and other colonizing nations present at various times…hmmm, what does this make me?) in terms of government, language, education and culture in general, Ghana has also had to come to terms with a long history of slave trade.

Evidence of this is spotted along the coast of Ghana in the great and terrible beauty of some incredibly well-preserved remnants and buildings that were key posts at the height of the Atlantic slave trade. The Ashanti people in Ghana were significant capturers and traders of fellow Africans and the “castles” along the coast were the point of no return for all too many Africans. We visited two of these castles, though we only entered and took the tour in one: Elmina Castle (a.k.a. St. George Castle; pictured in both of the above shots).

The castle was built by the Portuguese in 1482 and was originally named St. George of the Mine Castle. Later the Dutch seized the castle and it eventually became part of the British Empire. Today under the restorative guidance of the Ghanaian people, it is recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Elmina Castle is said to be one of the oldest European buildings outside of Europe and North Africa, and it is, rather incredibly, in near-pristine condition compared with most buildings of its vintage.

It was pointed out, as we were standing in the small, lightless, featureless dungeon (doorway above) where over a hundred women were stacked to await systematic rape, torture and transport (should they prove their market value by surviving long enough to be shipped), that the stench of barbaric containment and inhuman conditions was very much alive in the walls, and it was hard to deny. If my use of language comes of as overly graphic or terse, I can assure you that this is only a gentle whisper compared to the nature of our guide’s description. While it was a little awkward explaining and decoding what we had heard to the children after the tour, it is the truth, and the truth is always necessary when setting to the twin tasks of remembering and paying due respect.

The private tour (included in the modest admission charge) was informative, moving and disturbing in equal parts. We were ushered through the castle, much as a slave would have been, so that we could have some small understanding of what went on inside the dense, white walls of this seaside fort. The cell (pictured above) would house up to thirty Africans who had been condemned to death after being brought to the fort. The room had no facilities and the prisoners would be left together in the cell until the last one was dead.

This slender gap in the castle wall was the last time many would feel their feet on African land, as they were loaded onto waiting ships. As we passed—literally and figuratively—back through the “door of no return,” we were encouraged to utter a pledge of “never again.” I must say that while the story is not mine (though admittedly, as a descendant of the Britain, I bear at least some of the responsibility), I uttered the pledge with as much sincerity and conviction as I have ever spoken. As we escaped the dungeon, shifting once more into the warm African light, we were far better off knowing this truth with our eyes and within our hearts, than we would ever be resting in ignorance.

There are a number of Africans who believe that these buildings must be torn down so that the terrible past can be buried. It does seem somewhat grotesque that this has become one of West Africa’s most important tourist “attractions.” I must admit—with no small degree of shame—to feeling something akin to what I felt when I first laid eyes on some of the castles in England and Scotland: a mix of awe and admiration. For the most part, the history and idealism of the “great man” (in Africa, Canada, or elsewhere) is a fallacy and a travesty perpetuated on countless millions, even to this day. However, I don’t think that tearing down the buildings—now rightfully in the hands of Ghanaians, whose story it is to tell—will improve the chances that this will “never again” take place. The above picture of a midday football match may seem a little out of place, given the content of this entry, but it was very much "in place" as I snapped it from atop the castle wall. It provided a degree of comfort to know that in many ways, Africa is alive and well.

We went to the city of Cape Coast, the location of the other, perhaps better known castle in the area, but we felt we were done for the day so we did not enter. We intend to return and will likely bring any visitors that we have to one of the two castles, to hear this story again and pay our respects.

Never again.

On the Menu...in Ghana!

2008-09-21T12:13:00.000-07:00

There are many variations on the theme of food in Ghana and we can pretty much have whatever we want, for a price. The good news is that the price is usually refreshingly low, while the quality of the food is refreshingly high. The bad news (for some) may be that our food standards are relatively flexible so if you can't relate to the bliss that is the India Palace on Ellice, or Miso's all-you-can-eat sushi (and it will surprise none of you that I can eat!!), or the spicy delight of a Jamaican patty, or the chili-smeared sex in a bun that is found in the average Greek-style burger house in Winnipeg, then this blog entry is not for you. If you can relate, then come to Ghana--the food's great!!

I will begin here with what we have experienced and enjoyed in the restaurants in Ghana, saving street food and shopping for separate ramblings at a later date. The above photo was taken at one of those places by which all other restaurants will be measured: The Brightest Spot. (Note to readers: While I do feel that I have carte blanche in terms of artistic license on my very own"integrity-optional" blog, I promise you that the place exists and that I have not altered the title for cheap creative effect!) We ducked into this excellent little restaurant, bar and inn (find me a restaurant that on this coast that isn't all three and I'll find you an eight-legged goat who dances the mambo!) on our way to Ada Foah after reading about it in the Bradt guide to Ghana. I must say that the guide has been commendably accurate and this was no exception. It was a lazy, laid-back microcosm of all that is yummy in Ghana and, as the photo depicts, the highlife music was thumping, while the kids had plenty of room to move. Never have I been so happy to wait thirty+ minutes for a meal...McDonald's Play Place, you've been dumped!

Once our driver explained what Banku was, we thought we ought to give it a try and as we love fish, we thought we'd order it with Talapias. Fish and other forms of seafood are wickedly inexpensive here and a favourite staple for me is already grilled fish and fried rice. The fish (I'm never sure what kind of fish it is) comes cubed and de-boned on a skewer and is grilled with a seasoning that is the Ghanaian equivalent of Hy's seasoning. Mmmm...Hy's seasoning. As for the above meal, the Talapia usually comes with a ridiculously hot, red pepper sauce that we quickly (and rather wimpily) brush aside to get at the fish. We then tear off pieces of fish with pieces of Banku (sort of like a ball of corn-mealy porridge--not our favourite!) and gobble it up. As you can see, there was also fresh pasta for the kids, though they too are slowly expanding their palates. Brontë and Materia's favourite is seasoned, grilled chicken and fried rice, conveniently available in every restaurant we've eaten in thus far. Cuyler still eats anything and everything and he takes a generous tariff from each of our plates.

Both Banku and Fu-Fu are sort of like the mashed potato on the average North American plate, or the basic dumpling in a stew. As I understand it, different regions have different versions of this staple. Fufu is made by pounding some combination of cassava, plantain, yam or cocoyam and Banku is cooked, fermented corn dough and cassava dough. The photo above is of a woman I met who is making Banku. This is a common labour in Ghana and it is, as I'm sure you can imagine, back-breaking work in the heat as the consistency is not far from taffy! It's a food that is an excellent filler and as such I would be surprised if any of us acquire a taste for it or Fufu, though I have yet to have either with or in soup.

Prices are very reasonable and if we eat vegetarian, which we often do, we can usually have a hearty-sized plate of restaurant fare for about three to five Ghana Cedis (a little less in Canadian dollars). I had a mid-sized, whole, cracked, grilled lobster, on a bed of fried rice, with a heap of fresh vegetables, for just over ten Ghana Cedis. This was at a nice little upscale hotel in East Legon, near the office for the school. Carmilla had vegetable curry and pasta that meal for around five Cedis, to put it into perspective. I debated about including the above picture, but it has quickly become one of our favourite dishes. It is called Palava or Palaver sauce and it comes on a bed of rice. We have not been able to determine what the cheesy substance is, but it is present in all dishes. It bears a striking resemblance to Indian paneer cheese so it's no wonder we love it! The vegetable is sort of like spinach, but its name escapes me just now. The flavour is so rich, even though the sight of it is hard to stomach! The picture was taken at Chez Afrique (pictured at the very top), an excellent and inexpensive restaurant in East Legon that we will surely take you to when you visit!

Okay, so in case you haven't already figured it out, Carmilla and I have been (guiltily) sneaking out for lunch together while the kids are in school. We have tried a few places out and it's been good time for us to decompress and find perspective in what has been a pretty awesome transition, to the least. On that note, it is acceptable to drink almost anytime and anywhere, though I don't see very many people doing it, other than at restaurants. Star beer is our favourite and one of a few beers readily available in Ghana. It is wonderfully close to Corona and while a regular bottle will cost you a whole, whopping Cedi, the large bottle (roughly 650 mL) will cost you about thirty pesewas (cents) more. It was made for sharing! Smirnoff Ice and Gibson's Spark are also usually served very cold at the same price point. As an aside, we bought a 1.5 L bottle of very drinkable South African cab-merlot for just under seven cedis! Mineral water, Coca Cola, Fanta and a wide range of exceptionally good juices are cheap and available at every meal. As people who were previously too cheap to buy a pop (unless we shared a bottomless glass), let alone a glass of wine, we are quite sure we have arrived at the refrigerated gates of beverage heaven!

Not Hollywood, London or Butchart, but Aburi!

2008-09-16T12:39:00.000-07:00

Despite myself, I am growing increasingly fond of Britain's rather sausage-shaped thumb print on this country (and, quite frankly, on the world). One of the high streets in Accra's city centre district of Osu is called Oxford Street and one can easily imagine that they are in London based on the British take on international flare that lives on this stretch. Carmilla and I have already re-instituted our prior ritual (from my teaching stint in Leicester) of evening tea. We even managed to find PG Tips at the popular ex-pat Max Mart, a grocery store with a whole lotta Britain goin' on (but more on food and drink in a later posting). It is amazing how much traffic one can survive (more on traffic...again, you'll have to stay tuned) when you know that the promise of a hot cuppa awaits. Alas, I digress and have meandered from the intended path...

We were a little surprised to discover that one of the jewels in Ghana's crown (if you'll pardon the expression), the Aburi Botanical Garden in the Eastern region, was planted (through, I'm certain, the not-so-discreet-or-amusing use of slave labour--no pun intended here!) by none other than the colonials who occupied this country prior to independence some 50+ years ago. A drive of about an hour planted us (now, please pardon the pun) in the midst of one of the most impressive gardens we've ever been privy to.

It would appear that even Douglas, our hired driver, is impressed by the cotton silk trees planted some 150 years ago. This picture reminds me of similar pictures I have seen and taken of Carmannah in BC. It is hard not to stand in quiet awe and contemplation when in the presence of the planet's giants.

Not far from the gardens, the first cocoa bean planted along the Gold Coast is still growing at the Tetteh Quarshie plantation. The industrious and well-travelled local man Tetteh Quarshie reportedly brought cocoa to the region and left his mark forever on this area of West Africa. This was our first close-up look at what is arguably the most important export--certainly from Carmilla's perspective--of Ghana (I know, we love our oil too...I mean what's not to love about oil?). From little professor Cohen's point-of-view, this praying mantis was a definite highlight!

While I am still learning the strengths and weaknesses of my new camera (and its user), this snap of one of the more brightly coloured sights at the garden will have to stand alone. Needless to say, Carmilla and I are already planting our Accra garden in our imaginations!

We lingered for a good, long while in the garden, and certainly felt that we got more than our seven Ghana Cedis worth (for the carload...Butchart Gardens eat your heart out!!). The air was cooler due to the elevation and the vegetation, so we were truly comfortable outdoors in a way we have rarely been as yet. On the way home, we pulled over and I snapped this hazy landscape picture of the northeastern edge of Accra.

On Falling in Love With Ghana

2008-09-15T13:58:00.001-07:00

You know that deserted, sand-strewn paradise that the marketing gurus unabashedly exploit to get us to invest/sip/stuff/spend (feel free to substitute your favourite consumer behaviour)? Well, it exists in Ghana. And the best part? So long as you can get yourself there, rent on the place--which includes hammock, basic shelter, tanning chairs, and your choice of the deafening awe of the Atlantic, or the warm waters of the Volta River--is merely the price of a cold, 1.5 litre bottle of Voltic Ghanaian mineral water and a Star beer! For the record, the proces were a little inflated, so the drink bill was just over three Ghana Cedis (equivalent to the same in Canadian dollars!).

For our first trip outside of the city, and into Africa, we decided to drive into the Volta Region, named for the river and lake. Within about an hour and a half, we had covered a lush landscape, spotted with mighty Bao Bao trees, to arrive at Ada, a small community on the banks of the Volta River. We saw poverty and environmental prosperity as we travelled. I cannot help but wonder and worry about what the future holds both for the people and for the landscape.

The Volta River stretches between the base of the lake, and the Atlantic Ocean. The Volta Lake was created when the Akosombo Dam was built, which was yet another of the many projects of the biggest of Ghana's "Big Six" forefathers, Kwame Nkrumah. Today, it is one of the largest man-made lakes in the world and it nourishes roughly seventy-percent of Ghana with its reach. It is also a great source of income for Ghana as they sell electricity from the dam to neighbouring Togo and Benin (this does not mean, however, that power outages are not common!). We hired a boat (45 Cedis return fare for seven--we took Douglas, the driver, as he is the son of farmers and wanted to go on the boat--and for a tour of the estuary region) that took us out to the massive sand dune that is the Ada Foah Estuary.

On our way out to the estuary, we passed a number of fishing villages. Both the people and their boats were of great interest as we moved past. It felt as though we were intruding for a couple of moments as the river serves as a natural bathhouse, particularly at the end of a long day of hauling nets!

Ada Foah Estuary...Paradise Found!

There are a few makeshift resorts there, but we were honestly alone. You can rent a small hut, complete with queen size bed and mosquito netting, for around 10 Cedis a night. They also have bonfires, music and dancing when people want it and when the sea turtles arrive to to leave their eggs in a couple of months, they wil wake you in the mroning to witness the spectacle. As an aside, I love the wry symbolism (intended or not--though I'd like to think intended!) in the picture above of the tattered Union Jack flapping in the ocean gusts above Cohen's head as he combs the river bottom for shells and crabs. We filled many contaners with shells, including a small conch and a sand dollar.

All in all, it was a wonderful day and we will not soon forget it!! I have a hunch it is just the sort of day that will set the bar for all of our future excursions.

Culture and the City

2008-09-14T12:28:00.000-07:00

Akwaaba! Well, we finally managed to dash around the city and see a few things, and best of all, we also managed to dash out of the city to see something of Africa. These explorations were long overdue as it has been something of a challenge turning our house into a home (more to follow in a later blog, when the wounds aren't so fresh!). Here are some of the highlights--I think I will (mostly) let the pictures speak for themselves, but I will split the trips up into separate log entries, to make them a little more accessible.

This is the final resting place of W.E.B. Du Bois, one of the founders and great proponents of the Pan-African movement that promoted a deep connection amongst all Africans. While I have learned a great deal about the Civil Rights Movement in North America, I am embarrassed to say that I knew little about the important work that went on in Africa itself. Du Bois was a distinguished scholar and writer (in Africa and in America), most famously conceptualizing and beginning an encyclopedic dictionary for Africa and he was a co-founder of the NAACP.

This marble plaque is posted near the entrance to the main museum. Before I came to Ghana, I searched for literature and authors from/about Ghana and this was from the first poem I found. I didn't make the serendipitous connection until I read it on the wall. It is worth noting that while Du Bois was not born a Ghanaian, he did die one. It is also worth noting that he was invited to work in Ghana by the father of independence, Kwame Nkrumah, whom this poem was penned for.

The drummer and the hornblower herald the entrance to the National Museum and they are ever-present cultural symbols all around Ghana. They remind one of the significance of African roots in most Western music today, and the presence of the drum in every musical history (at least that I know of!).

Many villages, particularly in the more northern regions (such as the arts and cultural capital, Kumasi) are well known for kente, or weaving. This is a particularly vibrant hanging found in the museum. There is a great deal of symbolism worked into the designs of kente and of other works, such as the stools. Sometimes the symbol is attached to an ideal or a proverb. I would be very surprised if our home (this and future homes) didn't have a hanging or two and a stool or two!

Brontë, looking lovely, in front of some examples of traditional carving at the museum. And below, the front entrance, on our way home for the day. Until the next...

And How Does One Prepare for Ghana?

2008-09-11T05:58:00.000-07:00

The simple answer for us was: read everything you can get your hands on. Of course reading about palaver sauce and yams will not prepare you to truly know the taste explosion; skimming a paragraph about the spectacle of the ever-present tro-tro (mass transit buses that are a cross between city buses, taxis, and cattle cars!) in the chaos of traffic will not paint enough of a picture to call it your own; and looking at a picture of endless, soft sands and menacing waves of an Ghanaian beach is a poor substitute for the heat on your face and the sand beneath your feet--but the word and the image--moving or still, written or spoken--are all you have from the great, safe, and terrible distance of Canada.

Our reading recommendations would have to include the Bradt guide to Ghana (written by Briggs, a resident of South Africa), which has a somewhat British, orientalist sensibility about it (the cover says it all...as opposed to the more American, where-is-the-nearest-buffet approach to travel) and it can boast the perks of being accurate, reliable, respectful and culturally informed. However, I would have loved to have found a travel book about Ghana (there are few, though it gets good play in guides to West Africa), written by a Ghanaian. Reading about Africa through the colonial lens feels dangerously close to reading about nearly every invaded and/or colonized country and culture of the past five hundred years or so.

Web sites and blogs that were of specific use were those maintained by real people--usually women and usually part of the international community (referred to as the "ex-pat" community but I resent this because I am not an ex-patriot of Canada!) in Ghana. The best of such sources that we came across was by far "No Worries! -- The Indispensable Insider's Guide to Living in Ghana!" (http://www.noworriesghana.com/nw_home/). The site is written by North American women living and working in Ghana and it is a practical and invaluable resource that has proven useful on a daily basis. It has been very good for helping us to ask the right questions of the right people, and to find our way towards answers from one minute to the next. It is mainly because of this site that we knew to bring bug spray, sun lotion, hand sanitizer, school supplies, books, personal care items, a well-stocked first aid kit, electrical adapters, toilet paper (!!!) and specific items of clothing from home. We also knew which schools were good, which supermarket we were likely to shop at, what would be easy to find, what would be hard, how market negotiating worked, where to swim (including the serious dangers) and what it was like to be a white person, or "abruni," in Ghana. All this before we ever stepped foot into Africa.

In addition to these two key resources, we talked with those who had been to Ghana (a couple of Ghanaians and a couple of people who had done mission or other international work) and we watched dozens of videos on You Tube, all with varying degrees of usefulness, though I'm sure each one has resonated in one way or another. In essence, we tried to listen to as many voices as possible, packing our minds and our bags with as much useful material as we could, leaving behind that which was unnecessary or trivial. As a result, we have often said: "Thank goodness we brought that!," rather than: "Why on earth did we bring that?" having said this, we have enough sun lotion and bug spray to coat ourselves (and quite possibly the Ghanaian National Army) for a bush safari each and every day over the next year!!

For a broader sense of Africa, we turned to fiction and to a couple of independent films. The movie Tsotsi is hard to watch, but worth the effort. I just re-read Things Fall Apart by Achebe and it resonated with me in the same way Canadian novels about early contact (from the point-of-view of the "invaded") have. I am currently reading a slim book called Beasts of No Nation by Iweala which is set in an unnamed West African country, and is the first-person story of a child soldier. Before I left, I read Half of a Yellow Sun, a recent and epic novel by Adichie, that captures the varying perspectives on both sides of the Biafran conflict of the late sixties in Nigeria ( a nearby and still unsettled country). As I was packing my hundreds of books for the thrift store (did you just hear the sob all the way in Canada?), I remembered that Margaret Laurence spent time in Africa and wrote extensively about it. Being something of a fan--I have dared to teach The Stoned Angle...er, I mean The Stone Angel a few times and I have read the corny, naughty bits in The Diviners--you can imagine my surprise and delight to discover that she was in Ghana! I will tackle her writings next.

I suppose I should draw this entry to a close before it threatens to become a novel of its own (heaven forbid!). My next entry will likely cover some of the sights of Accra, as we have now explored some of this bustling and remarkable city of more than two million people.

Akwaaba!

Ryan

Lands in Ghana!

2008-09-07T14:45:00.000-07:00

Akwaaba! We are in Africa! We left at about 4:30 p.m. on Thursday of last week and and arrived late on Friday night in Accra, Ghana. The kids did really well (the suckers were definitely better than gum or candies--thanks Joanne!) despite delays, customs paperwork, bag searches, (temporarily) lost luggage and a couple of six+ hour flights. Let the record show that those who were most helpful were family who cleared out our home, housed us, fed us, took care of the kids, and accompanied us to the airport (several vehicles, four children, two car seats, a stroller, seventeen MEC duffle bags, roughly ten carry-ons and personal items...an impressive entourage, to be sure!!). At the Winnipeg Airport, the people at Northwest were awful, beginning with the woman at the ticket counter who could have a bright and fulfilling future handing out parking tickets. She was, as misfortune would have it, the tip of the hostility, condescension and insincerity iceberg that is Northwest Airlines (To add insult to injury, they were over an hour delayed and we almost missed our connection in Minneapolis). U.S. Immigration and the Winnipeg Police Service restored some of our faith in humanity as they helped push our four baggage carts and handed out tissue to those of us still wet-eyed from saying goodbye. KLM restored our faith in airlines as the food was great, the service was exceptional, and they seemed to like children! They too were late (this is unusual) but they were so darn nice about it that I felt bad for caring! The fact that they are a partner airline with Northwest feels suspiciously like a bad marriage. KLM deserves so much better. (I'm trying not to think about how many of you just made a comparison between Northwest and me!)

And now for a few words about our new life...

Ghana is five hours ahead of Manitoba right now but I think that will soon be six hours after daylight savings time kicks in. There is no such thing here as it is basically light from six a.m. to six p.m. 365 days a year. No one is concerned (except us) with the forecast as it is also basically 32 degrees (give or take a few degrees) all year long. As you can see by the picture, we wasted no time in hitting Labadi Beach, the best known beach in Accra. We had to pay a small fee to access the beach (parking, basically) but it was definitely worth it. The sand is fine and clean, but the water is quite dangerous. They mark the safe areas and blow a whistle when tides get too strong. There are other family-friendly beaches that we've heard of so we will check those out too.

We have not yet been too adventurous with our food choices (a burger and fries here is not too much different from home) and we are eating bananas and pineapples like they are going out of season...but they aren't! There is a strong British influence left over from colonial times except the food is better-tasting (sorry Q. Elizabeth). We had cabbage, sausages, and Basmati rice for supper tonight and we were pretty pleased with ourselves. We're still working on our milk of choice as each of the children prefers a different variation on the theme of dairy.

Our house is quite nice (three huge bedrooms and three full baths) but I'm not sure we'll be here for long as we are very far from school and work. The school I am working at will not open officially until the 22nd of September as there have been construction delays. The level and speed of development in Ghana right now is impressive and scary. Big oil is here and the prices of everything are being driven up. While shopping at the supermarket, we wondered what the average Ghanaian eats as we found it expensive and we make more money than the average person here does!

I am not exaggerating when I say that the people of Ghana are certainly the most welcoming and sincere we have ever come across (Northwest Airlines eat your heart out!) and they are said to be well known for their compassion for others. I don't think it is an accident that this has been one of the most peaceful African countries for such a long time. I should say, in case there is any doubt, that there is much poverty here, despite the fact that it is one of the most prosperous African nations. The poverty, however, is not of spirit, but of things. That kind of poverty, dear friends is a matter of perception and of interpretation, and it is the very idea we are here to consider. As I mentioned when I began this blog, "akwaaba" means "welcome" and we have felt it at least as often as we have seen it above a doorway, read it on a billboard, glimpsed it on the back window of a tro-tro, or heard it spoken with conviction.

We have been a little bit shut-in thus far as our vehicle has been delayed but we intend to do some serious exploration in the next seven days or so, so pictures and stories will surely follow. Materia and Cuyler and I went for a lizard-hunting walk this morning and spotted three, so it was a fruitful expedition. Cohen and Brontë want one for a pet, and Carmilla wants to imagine a world where she will not have to meet such things. So far, she has (mostly) been lucky.

Thanks for reading,
Ryan

Joy is not in things.

2008-07-26T21:53:00.000-07:00

Akwaaba!

Okay, so now that the initial thrill of a new life in Ghana has waned enough to make way for the practicalities of actually preparing for, getting to and working in Accra, I’m tired already. Having just returned from three intensive (Carmilla has a different adjective here…something like luxurious or indulgent or lackadaisical) weeks of finishing my M.Ed. in Calgary, I was ready for a little sip of summer before the demands of my new posting fully kick in. What I got instead was a week of being scraped, poked, photographed, prodded, kneaded, baked, billed and bartered with. Please allow me to elaborate lest your imaginations run inappropriately wild (you know who you are!).

I must admit, that much of what I am about to describe is our self-inflicted attempt to feast on Canada before we leave its fair shores behind for an undetermined amount of time. When we moved to England for a year there were more than a few things we pined for (believe it or not winter was one of them!) or regretted not having taken more advantage of (our dental plan springs immediately to mind), and Ghana is not—for better or worse—England!

Prior to my departure for Calgary we did (thankfully) take care of our passports, which was a fun-filled adventure hosted by London Drugs and the passport office in Winnipeg. We are silently hoping that this will not serve as an ominous metaphor for the rest of our journey. After I came back, we had to play “Whose Passport is in the Expresspost Envelope Anyway?” as they arrived one day at a time, in separate envelopes (No worries, your tax dollars are working hard, and sensibly, for you!). We then had to scan all six passports and courier them to Ontario so that they can go to the Ghanaian consulate for Visas. A couple days after we sent them, we received an urgent request for four more passport-sized pictures of each of us (yes, that’s 24 more pics!) for travel and for the consulate. We opted out of official photos, and I did them myself with a digital camera and a pair of scissors. Eat your heart out London Drugs.

One of the first things that we did upon my return, was book full massages in order to milk as much out of my medical plan as possible. There will be more. We also all went to the dentist to abuse…er, I mean, respectfully enjoy my recently minted dental plan. The dentist was gracious enough to anticipate our needs over the next couple of years, and he proceeded to “drill and fill” accordingly. He expressed a general lack of professional faith in the Ghanaian dental system, though I’m sure it will be more than adequate.

Next stop: travel health clinic. I can sum this up by saying “Damned, sterilized, standardized, protected, antiseptic, guarded, safe, Canadian health environment.” Typhoid, yellow fever, meningitis, malaria, hepatitis, and dengue fever are but a few of the charming possibilities that we must immunize ourselves against. This takes about a month in total and the visit to the clinic was just the beginning of service and drug charges (oh yes, times six!). Apparently, any one of us can now drink directly from the watering hole, ingest dung beetles just come from a hepatitis buffet, or sleep naked in the swampy breeding grounds of the mosquito, and we will be just fine. If only this were true…there are no guarantees! Not bad for well over $2000.00, eh?

To close out my first full week back, we decided to have our first garage sale this weekend. We took shifts sorting, carrying, pricing and parenting, and managed to survive three days of moving sale in the heart of garage sale country. We also managed to get entirely too much sun while doing so (Ghana here we come!). Most of what we have is now gone or spoken for, and we have been especially impressed with how readily the kids have given up everything. In fact, they have each opted to bring less than we offered them. We will pack a few comforts (mostly kitchen items and a few pieces of pottery, art, etc.), but we intend to get what we need in Ghana, and to keep it simple. A guiding principle has been the old saying (attributed to Ben Franklin and Richard Wagner): Joy is not in things, it is in us.

Did I mention that we got a call for a house showing that took place immediately following our sale? We pulled it off and while there are no offers on the house at this point, there are still also no regrets.

Take care,
Ryan

What you Ghana do?

2008-06-28T19:52:00.000-07:00

In the last forty-eight hours we have taken yet another step, in yet another new direction. This time the footing is less sure, but the possibilities beneath our feet feel firm and true! Two short nights ago, I was offered a position as principal (and English language arts teacher) at a new international school in Ghana. We accepted. We are moving to Ghana. I will be the principal in a Canadian preparatory school on Africa's Gold Coast. Pinch me...no wait, don't!

To say that this is life changing, or that it represents a real risk, would not be entirely true or fair. The decision took about three minutes to make because it is--to steal a line from a Matthew Perry movie, uttered to Salma Hayek atop the Hoover Dam (Is there a prettier, more romantic spot on the planet? I think not...but I digress.)--everything we never knew we always wanted. Even the kids were easily sold on this, mainly because our current context doesn't feel like home. Also, I have been on about multicultural and/or anti-racist education (and about forty-three other social justice issues, so eye-rollers and nay-sayers beware!) a lot throughout my nine year career and Africa seems to pop up a fair bit. Simply put, I couldn't stand the smell of my own ignorance, or the sight of my own privilege, any longer. Since I am essentially a kinesthetic learner, book learnin' just wasn't cutting it.

I will finish my M.Ed. this summer and I feel as though I need a little (or in this case, a lot) of time and distance from the Canadian system right now. In truth, my studies made me more than a mite angry with my profession. Change--even when research, data, and theory are conclusive--is painfully slow in coming in education, if it rears its necessary head at all. I have spent a lot of time studying change through agency, through creative, visionary leadership, through critical literacy, through personal and professional reflection, through teacher supervision, through learning communities, through improving student achievement, through culture-building, through policy-making and through innovative curriculum, to name but a few of the many approaches and stances relating to change. I have come to a frighteningly simple conclusion regarding the generally resistant, apathetic and/or hostile attitudes that educators seem to hold for change (which is really, another word for learning): we are free not to change. It is likely hard to believe that my conclusion is, as a "good" Canadian, that freedom is part of the disease, rather than the cure (to paraphrase Coldplay, and others). I have heard many educators use the quote by Ghandi around being the change that you wish to see in the world. If teachers aren't into learning--personally and professionally--what are we "being" in our world and in our classrooms? (Narrator carefully steps down from soapbox and gently nudges it aside, before once again turning to the listeners.)

I have come to dream of a teaching profession that behaves in the same manner as professional artists do. What artist doesn't dream that the next thing that they create will be their best yet? What if teachers taught this way? What if we were forever learning, reflecting, growing, working and creating toward our best lesson yet? How many teachers end at the top of their profession? Time and distance, I said. That I may search for the heart, and the art, of teaching. When I find it (again?!), you, dear readers, shall be the first to know.

Oh, and what does akwaaba mean? It means "welcome" in Ghana and if you made it this far, then welcome to my blog, welcome to my Ghana, and best of all, welcome to my learning.

Yours in learning,
Ryan Land