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!
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!
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.
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.
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!
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.
