Chapter 62...The Voodoo Vacation Part III - Ghana

Being welcomed back into Ghana bought with it a huge sigh of relief! We were back in a land we know well, surrounded by people we feel we have come to understand and a currency that works in our favour (and that Abs doesn't have to learn the exchange rate for!) I spent the majority of our first day back talking to people in French still, which made me chuckle to myself every time (if only I'd spent my school days speaking it so much, I may have come out with a higher grade)! 

So with our plan set we dodged all the private cars and headed for our beloved (and safer than zemis) tros in order to find one going to Ada Foah, our next stop! There was no 'car' (tro) for Ada Foah at the tro park, but we could take one for Accra paying the full fare and just alighting at Ada when we hit there! We weren't so keen on paying the eight Cedis to do that so decided to discuss our options away from the many many tro drivers we had found ourselves surrounded by! As we walked away we found ourselves stood in a quieter part next to a shared taxi to Keta...we've heard of Keta, so a few minutes later we've bargained the fare down and we're numbers three and four in the car and on our way... We ring some fellow vols who stayed there recently asking for the name of the place they stayed - 'Meet Me There' we tell our taxi driver, 'OK no worries he says.' As we drive into Keta we look around eagerly taking in the beauty of the place and deciding where we might want to head for food, sandals, cloth (no, no more cloth), but the car keeps driving and before we know it we've left Keta! Abs and I give each other a small look, but go with it, after all we've told the driver where we want to go. Half an hour later, Keta is many moons away and we decide to question how much further! It turns out 'Meet Me There' is a Ghana 'in Keta' (meaning not at all) and after another fifteen minutes we are dropped at a junction and told to pay 1 Cedi to take a 4x4 (the road was recently washed away) to 'Meet Me There.' Eventually after seeing most of the coastline to the East of Accra we arrive at our final destination...Oh and I am barefoot again by this point having broken one of my 'new' second-hand sandals! Abs is seriously worried and thinks I have a problem with footwear (maybe I do)!

We wile away the afternoon eating, listening to music, reading and enjoying the sea breeze. That evening we decide to make an old favourite of mine that I first came across in South America "Irish", as I introduce Abs to 'Baileys Milo' (Poppy you would love it, try it)! 

Day 9: A bit of this and that!
Travel days always prove to be chaotic so we made sure we were prepared with a good breakfast for our journey out of 'Meet Me There' (we saw how difficult it was getting there) and up to Koforidua. I enjoyed fruity pancakes with hibiscus juice, making a huge change to the norm of egg 'n' bread, which I think my body appreciated!

Luckily as we walked out of 'Meet Me There' a 4x4 was driving up the road with plenty of spare seats. We hopped in and away we went, first part easy enough! We then found a tro to Accra half full, again what a result, lady luck must be on our side! As you've probably guessed by now, travelling in tros is a necessity, but not one that many volunteers enjoy, because they are usually crowded, hot and relatively slow! Abs and I have got into the habit of always asking if we can travel in the front and majority of the time we have flashed a smile and been told yes. Same again with the Accra tro so we jumped in greeting the few people in the back, arranged our backpacks infront of us and our legs overlapping around them and each other! It's not the most comfortable, but better than being squashed like that in the back with people on either side all hot and sweaty! After a few minutes the driver came and the tro pulled away, brilliant no waiting we thought, could this day get any better! It took both of us about ten minutes to finally realise that we were squashed into the front seat of the tro, Abbies heel digging into my ankle and her needing to itch a bite on her foot every two seconds, whilst the whole of the back of the tro was virtually empty with free seats galore! In true lazy style we were cosy and we had a giggle, but neither of us suggested moving so we continued the three hours onto Tema as we were...

At Tema I bought yet another pair of sandals (remember mine broke on the way to 'Meet Me There') and we swapped tros for one to Kof. The route there was stunningly beautiful driving around the mountains and seeing Ghana from up above for miles and miles into the distance! Anyone who knows me well will know just amazing that makes me feel! Once I floated back down from the happy clouds I'd been perched on we met Kof vols, went for beer and kebabs, showered, unpacked, cooked dinner and started watching 'The Departed' before bed...

Day 10: A day at the falls (we all know what happened last time I was at waterfalls (no I didn't lose any shoes))!
We woke up this morning raring and ready to go, as we were determined to get some much needed exercise by hiking around Boti Falls, half an hour out of Kof! Our breakfast was immense - bread, meat, egg and beans, and our walking shoes were on...

My first ever double waterfall!

Stunning views from this rock!
It was worth the hard work getting to the top!

 

Following our energetic two hour hike at the falls we go back to Kof for a fufu lunch (newly introduced to me and something that I now love), a check of emails at the Vodafone shop (a/c, broadband, clean, such a treat) and a spot of shopping for yet more sandals (safe to have a back-up pair now I feel), Pebbles chocolates and Baileys for Abs (her new found obsession)! The rain keeps us in that evening finishing 'The Departed,' cooking bruschetta and playing cards. 

Day 11: Can we really fit anymore in our backpacks?! 
Koforidua is famous for it's bead market, which is held every Thursday in the centre of town. Abs and I deliberately planned our trip to be in Kof on a Thursday so we could visit the market. Visit the market we did, and this will come as no surprise to you when I tell you we bought our weight in beads! I think we may both have slight issues when it comes to shopping as we (Abs especially) could fit no more in our backpacks, yet we still kept buying! Earrings, bracelets (yes more), necklaces, earrings, keyrings, earrings...! After three attempts to leave the market we eventually had to drag each other out and away from all of the beautiful beads!

That afternoon we arrived in Accra, our final stop before the long journey back to Bolga at the weekend. We were on the final leg of our two week vacation and away from home and we were starting to feel it. Our backpacks were too heavy, we missed our own beds and all our clothes were dirty! Perfect timing for a date night with the EWB then!

I showered and deliberated over which of my clothes were the cleanest, the good old smell test told me they were all equally as bad! Abs suggested I just wear all my new jewellry to distract from the smell, I decided this was a wise idea so left for Paloma Hotel jingling all the way...I rolled into bed full after delicious pizza and salad at Eddys feeling like I needed another holiday to get over this one! I was beat, but we still had one more day to go, and maybe the most important one of them all...

Day 12...VSO?!
Good old egg 'n' bread got us going for the day as we tro'd it down to Osu (Oxford St) in Accra. We had a few hours to shop, stock up on chocolate and pop into the programme office. We decided the programme office should come top of that list! This was the day I finally got answers to my burning questions regarding my future time here in Ghana. The answer was exactly the one I wanted to hear and it lead the way to some productive planning for my next year in Ghana...

After this decision was made the rest of the day was mine so we headed to Global Mama an NGO run shop that we had wanted to visit for a while because all the items in there are made by local women. I felt like I was with my girlies again back home as Irene (Accra vol) and I squeezed into a fitting room trying on dresses, tops, trousers and deciding that none of them were quite right (maybe we've become too fussy having seamstresses to make all our clothes for us)! I left only with gifts, but happy with an afternoon of girly fun! We went for lunch at Koala, bought some red wine for dinner and eventually as the sun began to set and the Accra rush hour hit we headed for the Asylum Down volunteer house. We settled down for the evening with fried rice and chicken (much to Abbies delight, ha), chocolate covered popcorn, fruit salad and red wine and it suddenly dawned on me... Kenya was my next holiday and it was only one month away! The sheer excitement of a family reunion gave me one of my incredible free moments (Annie and I call them something else) when I decided that the EWB and I should go to Sierra Leone in September instead of the coast of Ghana like we'd planned! So after a quick and simple conversation and some reading of the LP, Sierra Leone is being booked tonight... It's always fun I feel to finish one holiday with a plan for the next!

Chapter 61...The Voodoo Vacation Part II - Togo

At the end of day three we zemi'd from the Benin/Togo frontier to Aneho, ten minutes into Togo on the East. We found Hotel Oasis to park ourselves at for the night and whiled away the afternoon and evening reading, chopping a burger and napping.

Togo is the long thin country situated between Ghana and Benin. It was 'once regarded as the pearl of West Africa for its scenic landscapes, elegant capital and affluent markets, but Togo fell by the tourism wayside following the political turmoil of the 1990s and mid-2000s. Information for travellers is virtually nonexistant, roads are in appalling condition and getting around requires the patience of a saint and the determination of a fighter.' Now from this description some would question why the Abster and I decided to travel the coast of Togo, especially as I am not known for my patience, nevertheless in our eyes it was worth an adventure exploring, so that's exactly what we did...

Day 4: The sandal saga continues!

Following a super relaxed evening on day three we decided to start day four in the same fashion. I did some clothes washing then joined Abs on the Hotel Oasis terrace with my book and a clear head for a few hours of reading and reflecting on lifes recent turn of events! At lunchtime we decided to venture out to the beach and to find somewhere to eat. As I posed barefoot on some rocks for a photo that I wouldn't even call worthy of the next thing that happened...my sandals got swept away into the turbulent sea as the tide came in and guzzled them up! I could not believe it, in six months of life in Ghana I have dropped a flip-flop down a long-drop and now lost both my sandals to the Gulf of Guinea...what are the chances!? After a few minutes of hoping that the same wave that took them away would kindly return them to the shore we realised that we were fighting a lost cause and my beloved new Kumasi sandals were gone for good! 

Courtesy of the Abster (her sandals not mine)! A message for so many of you other there...

During all the sandal commotion we forgot we were hungry so we walk (me barefoot) back towards our hotel in search of food, and what do we find...absolutely nothing! There is not a single chop house open, not a street stall in sight, nothing! We eventually stumble across a woman selling avocado on her head so we chop one each and explain my rather unfortunate sandal situation. She shouts across the street in French then tells us to go, so we head towards the shop she is pointing at. When there we come across a group of people eating lunch, something we haven't seen anyone in Aneho do yet, so we ask what it is and where they got it. Before we know it we are asked to sit down, the plate is pushed towards us, we're given two forks and we're chopping away at spaghetti, potatoes, carrots, runner beans all in a mayonnaise, vinegarette sauce! Amazing we both think to ourselves! Not only that, but the lady of the house has a basket full of second-hand sandals that I can choose from, meaning my feet are once again sandal happy, but for how long I ask myself...

We're definitely not full from our shared plate of food so we then hop on zemis back to the Benin/Togo border where we pick up some fruit and try some deep fried cheese with green chilli sauce, which is yummy! After that it's back to the Hotel for another evening of peace and quiet, I read my LP like it's a well written novel and disturb Abs from her book every two minutes to give her an interesting fact on West Africa. Early to bed and looking forward to tomorrow...

Day 5: Crocs and dogs skulls, lizards and statues, it can only be a voodoo market!
Today we decide to get back on the road and active again with a trip to Vogan's Friday market en route to Lome, the Capital of Togo. Once again we pack up our ever-growing backpacks, chuck them on our backs and jump on two zemis for the thirty minute ride to Vogan. When we arrive we're already in agony with the weight of our backpacks, but face a couple of hours walking around the market so 'man-up' and venture in...

This is one of the first markets in West Africa I've been to that is not total and utter chaos! The stalls have numbers, the paths between stalls are wide and clear and there are even toilets. We do our usual - purchase more cloth and bracelets (a blog post will follow this month with all the new clothes I've had made from this endless cloth I keep buying)! After a while we give up on seeing any voodoo stuff so head for the cars to Lome where we find ourselves the first two in the car, meaning a wait for four others to join (two people in the front, four in the back)...after thirty minutes or so a fight breaks out between our driver  and another (a recurring theme of this trip) so we quietly remove our bags from the trunk and slip away back into the market! Luckily we then stumble across the voodoo items we were hoping to see - crocs and dogs skulls, lizards and statues, furs and hairs, Togolese men and children hoping to sell us some of these fetish items - funnily enough we decided our backpacks were too heavy at this point for anymore purchases! Time to attempt to leave again so we find a less chaotic corner of the car station to pick a car to Lome. The road is shockingly bad and we're squashed into the hot and sweaty car - me in the back with three others and Abs in the front with two others! We giggle our way through the hour journey, falling silent as we hit the city, realising that we have a lot of negotiating to do now...

There is no yellow uniform for zemi-john riders in Togo as there was in Benin, so it's hard to tell who is picking or not! The yellow uniform, I am sure, does not mean they have a license to pick or anything like that, just that it makes them more visible among all the other thousands of motos. We don't get a price we're happy with from the zemi's near the car stop where we get dropped so we walk a little further up the road to a busy junction. Two motos stop and we manage to flatter down their first price to something we are more happy with, we may not be able to go out drinking heavily as the Western men are more comfortable doing, but we are capable of flirting down a price every now and again! *This will feature heavily in our exiting Togo story later*

After a hot and bothered walk around the area we want to stay - near to the beach and Ghana/Togo border - we eventually find a hotel that has rooms and that we're happy to stay in. The starting price for the room is 21,000 (definitely over budget) but when Abs asks about volunteer discount the price drops by 10,000 (30 Cedis) to 11,000 per night! What's the catch we wonder so we walk upstairs to look at the room, which is spacious enough for two, has a TV and warm water (occassionally) as well as a huge shared living room/diner and outside terrace...'we'll take it!'

As usual an early evening stroll was needed to orientate ourselves so we sprayed ourselves with enough bug spray to clog the lungs of a small mosquito army and we were off on our feet in the direction of the beach! I could feel that deep feeling of excitement and release as we neared the water and Abs and I practically ran across the sand to the waters edge we were so happy! We took some photos and decided to go for a sunset meander (it all sounds awfully romantic doesn't it), but our happiness was not long lived when we discover to our utter horror that the beach is used as a public toilet! We were surrounded by people squatting in the sand and the remnants visible for all to see...needless to say we ran as fast as we could (with our sandals on (I managed to not lose mine this time)) off the beach and for a beer to get us over our shock! We then treated ourselves to a pizza oven 'proper' pizza for dinner and it was back to our luxurious hotel for the night...

The 'Star' beer of Togo!

 

Day 6: One of those days!
Day six was one of those bitty days where nothing really got done or achieved, but we enjoyed ourselves regardless! We started the day the only way we know how, with egg 'n' bread then hopped on zemis to what we got told were Togo's clean, nice beaches! As we headed off in the direction of the industrial site and port I was a bit dubious, but had remembered nice beaches on the Benin side of the Capital so kept my faith! However, when we got dropped off in the heart of the Industrial site at a couple of nice hotels my heart sank a bit, then further still when we saw the beaches! They were definitely clean, there's no doubting that, but they were lifeless and miserable and overlooking the industrial site! Who would want to even up their tan lines here we wondered, and pay a small fortune for the non-pleasure! We sensibly decided to leave so found ourselves on another couple of zemis heading back to our end of town. When we reached the Grand Market we alighted and walked along the beach there until we found a pleasant spot away from sewage, sellers, children and people...perfect! But as is always the case within minutes we started to notice more and more men wanting to be on that part of the beach and desperate to chat to us even though we couldn't speak French! We decided we needed to find somewhere peaceful for tomorrow so we walked home via a couple of hotels with swimming pools and enquired at their non-guest rate to use the pool - 2,000 CFA so 6 Cedis, yep we can afford that, plan for tomorrow made! Following all of our egg 'n' bread breakfasts we decided on a fruit, veg and chocolate  (oops) dinner, which I think our bodies much appreciated! We spent the evening utilising the huge dining room table in the hotel playing 'blink' and 'apples.' 

Day 7: Sunbathing, beach parties and...brothels! 
Our mission is clear today - even up tan lines, relax and have our first day of nothing...we do it all pretty well! I finish my book - 'One Day' that morning on the terrace and am surprised at how much it makes me think about such things happening to me and how I would deal with and react to them! My sister gave me this book to bring to Ghana having read it herself, hating it, so knowing I would love it (she knows me so well!) With my book finished and my I-pod battery dead it was me, myself and I for the day, which was probably a blessing in disguise as I enjoyed gathering and ordering my thoughts and just checking in with myself on how life is at the moment being Hannah! My conclusion was that it's pretty grand!

As the sun started to come down small over the rooftop pool at Hotel Palm Beach we decided to pack up and walk the thirty minutes back to our own hotel. As we stood up and looked down onto the beach we noticed there were hundreds and hundreds of people all gathered by the shore. We assumed there must have been an accident or something and didn't think much more of it. But as we walked along the beach, we realised that this was far from an accident and a huge beach party instead with food, drink, music, dancing and plenty of games being played! How incredible we thought and what a coincidence after Lake Bosumtwi to be somewhere else on a big party day! This was no party day though, this was a standard Sunday in Lome when the whole place comes alive with people enjoying themselves along the same stretch of beach they use as a toilet! How odd we thought as we drank from coconuts and munched on yet more avocado filled baguettes. That night I also tried gizzard (something I won't be doing again) and we found an amazing sweet chilli egg 'n' bread that we both loved! A happy successful day!

 

We then went back to our hotel and had our suspicions confirmed that we were indeed staying in a family run brothel! That was obviously the catch when we got a 50% discount! We laughed and remembered the section of the LP that explains how most hotels in Togo and West Africa double as brothels! We went to bed that night making sure our door was locked...!

Day 8: The day I married off Abbie!
Today was a travel day, with our aim to leave Togo first thing in the morning, head into Ghana and to Ada Foah for a spot of beach time there back on the cheaper Cedi! We said goodbye to the brothel, got breakfast (no prize for guessing what that was) and confidentally walked to the desk to exit Togo! 'No, visa expired' was the response from the policeman there! 'What do you mean it's expired, we have a seven day visa, today is the seventh day!' I say. 'No, visa expired' he replies pointing to the date written on the visa, which blow me down is the 24th July not 25th as I had calculated it to be! I cannot for the life of me understand and spend the next half an hour saying so! Meanwhile Abs is standing quietly about a meter away, me thinking she's less than ecstatic that the crazy woman is off again, but actually she's eyeing up the good-looking policeman while I argue with the border officer! Don't worry Abs you just enjoy the view while I clear up this mess eh?!

Finally after saying we will not pay 30 Cedis for a new visa to walk the three metres back into Ghana, refusing to pay a bribe to get the exit stamp the illegal way, getting told I talk too much (sounds like every school report I ever got) and dragging every passer-by into the discussion, we do the only thing we know that works...we flirted our way out of Togo, or I should say, I married Abs off to get out of Togo (which judging by her interest in the policeman I don't think she minded at all!) So with a promise of marriage we're all smiles as we shake hands and get the only thing we really want, the stamp in our passport! We walk the three metres and find ourself back on comfortable home soil...Ghana!

Chapter 60...The Voodoo Vacation Part I - Benin

Benin, the club-shaped nation to the East of Ghana, is famous for being the birthplace of voodoo!  Voodoo got its current name in Haiti and Cuba, it was orginally called 'vodun' in Benin and Togo, a word that means 'the hidden' or 'the mystery.'  10th January is officially 'voodoo day' and a bank holiday with celebrations all over the country. Benin, particularly the town of Ouidah, is also known to have played a pivotal role in slave trade for nearly three centuries giving the country a complex history. For all these reasons Benin was the starting point for mine and the Absters two week vacation spanning three countries, in some cases in less than twelve hours...

Day 1: One Day, Three Countries!

The official start of our holiday and what could we not wait to do more than anything else...leave Ghana! We set ourselves up for the day with the usual egg 'n' bread breakfast, (which takes me half the day to eat, much to Abbie's annoyance as she can smell the grease and tastefullness oozing from my bag) and headed for a tro to the Ghana/Togo border. We paid our 8 Cedis and got comfy for the ride.  For the first time in a long time we were on a road that we had both not been on before, flying past town and place names that we'd only heard of. As we neared the border the road turned from paved and dust-free to pot-holed and red, was this an insight into what our two week vacation would be like...

Crossing into Togo was pain-free, we simply left Ghana and entered Togo, 30 Cedis lighter but all legit with a paid for visa! *A little tease for later...leaving Togo was not so pain-free!* As is always the case, we were swarmed by French speaking men as soon as we left no-mans-land, all wanting to pick us somewhere or exchange money! Now Abbie doesn't speak a word of French so we were reliant on my GCSE fast-track B grade French to get us safely through two French speaking countries (boy did I wish I'd paid more attention in those early morning breakfast classes)! As I got going a lot of words came back to me, but that's all they were, words! All conjunctions and sentence formations seemed to have been lost over the ten years since I sat my GCSE's, but somehow we survived! 

The main form of transport in Togo and Benin are moto taxis, known as 'zemi-johns.'  There are no tros and very few private cars, which are ridiculously expensive! The Lonely Parent gives this description of zemis...'by far the fastest and most convenient way of getting around, but they are dangerous, most drivers behave like lunatics and helmets are not available.' I would say this pretty much sums it up in my experience! Abbie gave it this equation...Chicago (London) traffic + thousands of motos, double the speed - all road rules = a zemi-john ride in Togo and Benin! 

So we hop on a zemi to take us to cars for Benin, we do a quick transfer there and one hour later, having driven along the beautiful coast of Togo and the less beautiful industrial site and port...

My 'twin' - Absee! We get asked all the time while we're travelling if we're twins! We usually just reply yes!

...we are in Benin, our third country for the day! 30 Cedis spent, one visa bought, a love of the street food (roast potatoes) and 48 hours to absorb this country the best we can...

Our final task for day one, once we hit Cotonou, is to find somewhere to rest our heads that night! Thanks to my Lonely Planet West Africa (thanks bro) we have some ideas of places to stay so we holler over two zemis, tell them where to take us and to stick together...oh yes, you guessed right - within two minutes we had lost each other! My zemi was in front so I kept checking back for Abs, but given I had my backpack on, seeing much was difficult! My rider pulled over and we sat waiting for a while, me racking my brains as to what to do given that our phones didn't work in Benin, Abs spoke no French and didn't know the name of the hotel! Luckily after a few minutes more I saw a beaming smile coming towards me, the Abs who had stopped for fuel and was loving the whole zemi-john experience!

My smile suggests I enjoyed the experience, but to be honest I didn't at all! The adventurer in me is decreasing with the more accidents I have!

Photo courtesy of the Abster!

Eventually we check ourselves into a tiny box room for 11,000 CFA, bargain I keep saying to Abs, I can't believe it's so cheap! We stroll downstairs for a cous cous, spaghetti and chicken dinner and chat over the day. As we are I'm doing the calculations in my head - 1,000 CFA is 3 Cedis so 11,000 CFA is 36 Cedis - way above the budget we set ourselves! I have to admit to Abs that I may have been a little hasty in my excitement over the room price, all faith is lost and Abs decides that maybe it's time for her to learn the exchange rate after all!

Day 2: Gilding the Lily!

To make the most of our 48 hour visa we organised a packed second day. Now it will come as no surprise to you all that our day started with food, good French food! Just outside our hotel, which we discover by daylight is in a very nice part of town with wide paved streets and amazingly big houses all around (no wonder the room is so expensive), we find street food of baguettes, avocado, cheese, meat balls, gherkins and tuna, all the things we would never find as street food in Ghana! 

Following breakfast we need to head to the car station for cars to Porto Novo, the official Capital of Benin, so once again we search out easily enough a couple of riders wearing the yellow zemi uniform and tell them (in broken French) where we need to go. They try desperately to take us the whole way to Porto Novo (forty-five minutes away), but we insist we just want to go to the car station and get a (cheaper than the fare they were offering) car there. We instruct them to stay together and away they go! Like any good/bad chick flick this is all looking pretty obvious...Abbie and I lost each other once again, but this time for about twenty minutes! Both our riders were very kind in helping  us to find each other, until my rider who had the better English of the two kept insisting that Abbie had gone to Porto Novo and he should take me there! After clearly telling him that she wouldn't have gone without me, we ride around the block once more in some vain hope that we will find the other moto! Eventually as we turn a corner I see the Abster on her moto and scream her name across the Cotonou traffic! The reunion is bitter sweet as my rider will not take the money for our fare, instead asking us to 'wait, wait' so he can again ask to take us to Porto Novo! I shove the money in his hand and ask for the change, but still he is asking us to wait! I can feel the rage surfacing and try my best to stay calm by walking away, but it's too late! I shout at him to take our money, give us our change or we are walking to get the car with him left CFA-less! Eventually we get the issue sorted (with the help of some other Beninese) and the Abs and I find ourselves sat in a full car waiting to leave for Porto Novo. Now at this point Abs is wondering what she is doing on holiday with this crazy woman so just to prove to her how insane I am, I shout 'chauffeur' (a word she doesn't even know the meaning of) from the full car to get the driver to come so we can leave! And would you believe it, my crazy shout gets his attention, he buckles himself in and away we go...

All smiles in the crazy Cotonou traffic having found each other again! The riders in yellow shirts are zemi-johns!

I wasn't such a fan of Porto Novo, it had a real 'Shutter Island' feel to the place, very cold and very empty, but we enjoyed a stroll around the market and some cloth shopping before heading back to Cotonou where we really let the CFA loose! As if Abs and I didn't have enough jewellry with us in Ghana we spent a stupid amount of money buying even more, I really was gilding the lily! After finally telling ourselves that we had to stop purchasing things we didn't need, we headed back to the hotel via an evening exploration stroll in which we got told off for snapping (taking photos of) government buildings and contemplated life on the steps in front of an unknown statue as the sun set! 

 

On the way back we stopped in at a French grocery store where we picked up a bottle of red wine, brie and crackers. We stood in awe as our bottle of wine was smashed against a wall (with a cloth in between) to get the cork out (it worked, much to our amazement) then we chatted away the evening of day two...

 

Day 3: 'We do Ouidah' (pronounced 'we-da')

Today we have to be out of Benin by the afternoon when our 48 hour visa is up so it's an early start to make sure we can fit in Ouidah before we exit Benin! As usual it's breakfast on the street followed by zemi's to the car station for Ouidah. In every way this should be extremely simple, but with Abs and I there always seems to be a slight hiccup or two...

When we arrive at the car station for Ouidah we are quoted 10,000 CFA for the one hour journey there! We just can't understand it, that's 30 Cedis, which is how much we pay for a bus from the North to South of Ghana (14 hours) and we paid for our visa into the country...how is it that much when the book says it's 700 CFA (2 Cedis and much more likely)! After a small fight breaks out between my zemi rider and one of the car drivers Abs and I step away and find a bench to perch ourselves on while we watch the action unfold! We made a decision to be stubborn and ride it out, eventually one of the many drivers sat around doing nothing would lower their fare and stop giving us 'white' pricing...one hour later we were still waiting! Abs decided to go ask someone what the deal really was and we soon found out that we'd been dropped at the private car station to Ouidah, not the share taxi one! So as I scowled and stropped that no-one had been honest enough to tell us and instead let us waste an hour of the day sat there waiting, Abs was beaming from ear-to-ear with excitement at the thought of another zemi ride to the correct car station!

Our two hours in Ouidah must be spent wisely, which is such a shame because the place is amazingly intriguing and I would have loved more time there! Once again we hop on zemis with our backpacks on to do a quick tour of the town and the 'route des escalves' down to the beach where 'captured countrymen from across West Africa left Ouidah for the Americas.' We walked through the 'point of no return' and marvelled at how we would like more time here and more knowledge of the slave trade to really 'feel' the place properly. 

On the afternoon of day three we left Ouidah and Benin with heavy backpacks from all  our purchases of cloth, jewellry and masks and a sense of love for the parts of this country we had seen. Next stop back to Togo for four days of fun and dramas there...

Chapter 59...The sound advice that follows!

Since my last blog post I have been overwhelmed by the responses I have received from you all, thank you so very much! Firstly it is good to know that there are people out there reading the ramblings that I type. Secondly it is amazing to read and hear the sound advice that you are offering, if I weren't so deep in the situation would I have been able to offer similar words of wisdom! (Many of you will find yourself quoted in this blog post, I cannot take full credit for this one!) Thirdly you have all managed to lift my spirits and re-align my thinking of life in Ghana, which was very much needed (clearly)! Since Tuesday I have done nothing but analyse...

I have always worn my heart on my sleeve, which as a result has led me to be a highly emotionally attached being, whether it is work, love, life, I find it difficult to detach myself emotionally. I throw my whole heart and soul in, leaving me vulnerable to being crushed every time, which is clearly where I reached on Tuesday of this week! My task now is to look after my own health and well-being, which is the only thing I have control over in this World...myself! Now the best and most helpful words I read were these...'that doesn't mean not caring and striving for the best but simply doing the best you can and allowing other people to take responsibility for their own part. Don't stress about what you can't change!' (I thank you for these words)! Now to be honest this is not the first time I have heard this, as a very dear friend of mine - Kathleen - has been telling me the same thing for years and years! This is the first time though that I have found myself at a real crunch point when these words really can impact on my life and those of the people around me! 

On the corruption and work side a friend who I have looked up to the whole time I have known her had this to say...'I guess human nature really when you think about it is selfish and you could look at each act you do and say is that selfish because in some way it will be for my own benefit.' I think this is very true, both in the Western world and in Ghana! My daddyo reminded me of people back home abusing sick days (guilty as charged) and the horror of the expenses scandal in the UK. The difference there though was that I was detached from it, there really was nothing I could do, it was something I read about in newspapers and heard about on the news. Here it is my life and my disappointment comes when I go into an office 'everyday' (we'll use that word loosely here) and witness the ones who do not need, being corrupt and selfish and impoverishing further those who are living on or just above the poverty line. It feels so Robin Hood-esque, but 'taking from the poor to feed the rich!' However, as my friend said, they have their reasons. Maybe it is their survival instinct kicking in to look after themself and their family, maybe they are sending that money (which should be going to feeding someone else's family) to  their extended family elsewhere in Ghana. Whatever the reason corruption is an established and understood system that has been in place for decades now. What makes me think I can come in and change that?! 

I had a fascinating chat this morning with an elderly Ghanaian man who before retiring was a teacher. CK's (no not Calvin Klein) eyes are fading and letting him down now, but his mind is sharp and his stories compelling. We sat for an hour or so discussing his fathers survival of both World Wars, Colonialism, Chiefs and elders and finally corruption. CK's father was dragged out of his village at the age of seventeen to march by foot down to Accra (from Newcastle to Cornwall) where he was put on a ship and sent to war. CK was taught in a barracks school by one of the 'white soldiers wives.' He saw Independence come and the British go. He saw how roads then fell apart, how politics turned messy and how corruption snuck in. I am definitely not wanting to get into the Colonialism debate here, but hearing thoughts such as these from a Ghanaian who has seen it all and then hearing him state that he 'does not know how Ghana will rid the problem of corruption' I can see even further that I am 'flogging a dead horse!'

So from all of this I can easily conclude that feeling frustrated and angry by focusing too much on the negatives around me has only resulted in me feeling hurt, let-down and disappointed by the people I am supposed to be working with. When the advice comes not only from your mother, but someone who spent a third of their life growing up in Africa to 'let sleeping dogs lie' that is when you really know it is time to re-assess the situation! Now I am going to re-align my expectations - both of myself and those I am 'working with' by taking a huge step back, analysing what I can change and what I cannot and then concentrating on applying the skills and qualities I possesss to help those that really want and need it.  In the background of all of this are the people who should be at the forefront...the children in the schools of Ghana! I am going to focus my work on the end beneficiaries themselves who are growing up in a World where corruption is an acceptable way of course! Because the young after all are the ones 'who are open to new information and are willing to learn and change to improve their own lives and Ghana.' If only one or two of them understand that corruption, corporal punishment and gender inequality should not be a fundamental part of their everyday lives then I can leave my placement with some hope for the future...! And ironically I question whether I am doing all of this just so I can finish my placement in December feeling fulfilled and like I have managed to learn from my own mistakes for the rest of my life (there's that selfish thing  creeping in again)!

Chapter 58...The dirty money of Ghana!

Having just got home from my most stressful, unproductive, longest day at work so far I feel the only way I can get my frustrations out of my system is to journal them on my blog. Now I know most people choose not to use their blog as a source to journal and vent, but as you all know, I am not most people so you are being treated to a highly charged, probably irrational and very emotional blog post...

Today was the second day in a row that I found myself in a public place in Ghana crying my eyes out, real gut-wrenching, body shaking sobs! I was stood in a shop with standing fans on one side of me, gas cookers on the other and I was weeping like my heart had been broken in two! My tears had several emotions and a lot of hormones behind them and as I type I'm starting to well up again...Yesterday was one of those days when I couldn't have felt further away from home! As two of my closest friends in this World said goodbye to someone very dear to them, I felt that sharp stabbing pain of just wanting to jump on a plane home to see all the people I miss and care about so very much. I felt the girls sadness all the way over here in Ghana, as I remembered loved ones that I too have lost, and I spent the rest of the day longing for Kenya to come sooner than it is! 

But today was a new day so I woke up, gave myself a good talking to and decided to start afresh! Two hours later I was my five year old sobbing self again, just wanting someone to hold me, to take all my worries away and to fix all the wrongs in this World! Back to reality though where that will sadly never happen I was left with seven hours ahead of me to analyse the source of my bleeding heart...I am struggling. Struggling with why I am here. Struggling with the impact I am making. Struggling with corruption. Struggling with cultural misunderstandings. Struggling with power. Struggling with hierarchy. Struggling with the dirty money of Ghana!

In my six months working at the GES (Ghana Education Service) office in Talensi Nabdam I have witnessed and ignored numerous acts of corruption, all based around deep rooted systems of hierarchy and power. I have not questioned the fact that my Director's son is on our employment books and takes a monthly salary as one of the drivers, but he has not once set foot in the office, let alone a GES car. I have not taken action when a group of teachers trusted me enough to tell me about 'the envelope' form of passing money to GES office staff to do work that should actually be part of their daily job. I have turned a blind eye to hushed conversations in the office that turn from English to Fra Fra the second they turn corrupt. I have allowed the ridiculous notion of TNT, snacks, lunch, allowances, 'motivation'  etc to carry on in the profit making way it has become. I could go on, the list is sadly endless...

For some of these issues the root cause is obvious, because my GES runs on a hierarchical, power hungry system of 'if you're a rung below me on the ladder, I will make sure you know that and this fact then allows me to make money out of you whether you're a colleague, teacher or pupil.' Now I am not saying that all the office staff are this way inclined, I would really like to think that some of them aren't, but the more time I spend there, the more murky the waters look! For other issues the cause is ironically NGO's themselves. The towns and cities of Ghana are NGO filled to the point where you would be hard pushed to find a stretch of road without an NGO sign board every two metres! The majority of the larger organisations are based in modern, state of the art (for Ghana) offices with air conditioning and a desk for each person. They have at least one air conditioned pick-up truck that cruises around all day among the other NGO pick-ups creating a landscape across the cities of high-rise cars rather than high-rise buildings. I'm not saying that this is all the NGO's are good for, not at all, but over time a culture has been created in which they are fuelling rather than reducing the dirty money of Ghana! 

An unfortunate practise was started long before my time here in which NGO's began supplying TNT (time and travel) money for people attending workshops or training run by the NGO. Over time this craze has got ludicruously out of control with people expecting /demanding snacks, lunch, fuel money, allowances and 'motivation' (money) for them to grace a workshop with their presence! And the worst part is that staff at the GES office who should be working to squash out these things, instead encourage them to make a profit! There are groups of them working together to make serious amounts of money for as little work as possible! One of the worst incidents I encountered was the Deputy Director getting an allowance of twenty-four Cedis for four minutes of reading an opening speech that wasn't even written by him. I have no doubt in my mind that he and the officer in charge of the budget for that workshop got an even split and enjoyed laughing about it at our expense. But why not, their opinion of NGO's and the volunteers that come with them are that they are providers of bottomless pots of money, and when all NGO's flash the cash as they do then of course someone somewhere is going to try to make a quick buck! Would I be the same if I lived in such poverty and saw great bundles of wealth being spent in my country?!

As I consider now what my options are to rid this knot in my stomach of 'what impact am I really having, what change am I really creating' do I...

1. Conduct a wife swap style switch where we go from playing it their way to playing it mine?
2. Continue quietly not causing a stir on this path of self-destruction through sheer frustration?
3. Detach myself from the people in the office who I am starting to rather dislike anyway and continue my work with individual schools and pupils?

Of course throughout all of this, as is always the case I am learning substantial new things and growing as a person day-by-day. Today I looked inwards and learnt that maybe more of my frustrations are to do with me than they are the surroundings I find myself in. I am looking in the mirror at the person I have become and the path I am on, do I like what I see?! I am assessing past mistakes, particularly becoming too emotionally involved with my work and I need to learn from those mistakes now. I am questioning how far running from this current situation, as I have always done before, will really get me! I am gauging how much value I put on my own life and my own happiness, some could say too much making my actions rather selfish! I am wondering whether I will ever work in development again, probably not, so do I leave it now and move on?! I am reflecting on my own morals and my past behaviours, things need to change! I am looking forward into the future and thinking about the type of role model I want to be to my own children, a good one! I am realising that I am still a vulnerable, emotional human being and that actually I may have done most of my growing up and this is the person that I will always be so I need to get to know myself here and now...!

So finally late into the afternoon my working day ended with fake invoices and VAT receipts, two arguments with GES office staff over the 8000 Cedis (£3333) I was in charge of spending, a reminder of how dirty the money of Ghana can be,  a free sandwich toaster given to me by the nice man at 'Modern City' because he was upset by all my crying, a restored faith in human kind, a quickly shattered faith in human kind (or maybe myself) by a niggling in the back of my mind...'was he being so nice and giving me the toaster because he had seen the amount of money I had been spending all day and he was trying to ensure I come back to spend at his store again' and a feeling that this kind of questioning will never go away! By accepting his gift had I just played a small part in the cycle that is the dirty money of Ghana!?