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!
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:
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. 
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... 
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...
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! 
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.
