The Return of the Baboon Queen
Oh my, oh my…it’s been three weeks, and a busy three weeks at that….where is a poor bloggerette to begin? At the beginning, I suppose, which happens to be where I last left you, three weeks ago already…
So flashback to Friday, February 2nd : The sun is shining, birds are chirping high up in the coconut trees and two young ladies are stuffing their belongings into rugged backpacks…preparing to embark upon a journey of epic proportions. All right, now flash back even further to when I was just a simple and unpretentious blogger, not some electro-Homeric wannabe, and let’s stick to that tone to fastforward back into the present. (Btw, I’ve been watching season 1 of Lost, which Gislain so kindly lent to me from his collection, probably not realizing that it would create permanent damage in my ability to think/write linearly).
But I digress…Eve and I had an amazing time traveling through Ghana. So busy, and incredible and unforgettable and momentous, that I don’t even know how a blog entry –however long it ends up being— could ever give justice to our incredible adventure. But fear not, dear readers, I will still give it a try.
So we embarked upon our first (and by no means last) trotro on Friday afternoon, heading West on the road to Cape Coast and dropping at Emkumfie junction, where we picked another car that brought us to our final destination for the day: EkumfieAkra. Those of you familiar with Ghana may wonder what two tourists like ourselves would be doing visiting this tiny village at least 20.5 miles off the beaten track. Well of course, we had some dancing to do! And dance we did, in front of the whole village not to mention all the kind guests who had traveled from far and away to attend Tim’s grandfather’s funeral. Oh, and my sister and I were not even accorded the comfort of dancing in front of everyone together, no no…we each had two turns, dancing ALONE, in front of everyone as we were forced to interrupt an actual performance by a troupe of (real and highly talented) dancers. So yes, Friday evening embarrassment aside (the video must be destroyed at all costs), we had a lovely time. Tim’s family welcomed us with endless kindness and generosity, making sure that the poor lil’ rhythmless obrunis be properly lodged and fed (and then fed again, and again) during their stay in Ekumfie. It was a lovely time, as funerals usually seem to be around here, and we felt truly blessed to start our journey with a taste of this typical and flavorful slice of Ghanaian existence.
After extensive goodbyes on Saturday afternoon, the time had come for the Wertheimer sisters to grab the second round of trotros, and head over to the next destination: Cape Coast and Elmina. After the duress of village life (aka showering from a bucket under the starry sky and sleeping on a foamie…oh my, the suffering!), we decided we had earned a bit of a treat (anything to justify our decadence, really). We headed to a beach resort a few minutes outside of Elmina--complete with white sandy beach, swimming pool, and outdoor restaurant under a straw-thatched roof. But contrary to what you snow-bound folk might imagine, it was not really the beach which was the main source of interest during our visit in the Western coastal area, but the forts, much more somber and sad in their tone. Indeed, the Cape Coast and Elmina Castles are two standing reminders of a rather dark and shameful part of human history, that of colonialism and the slave trade. We visited both of these impressive structures, where the large and spacey quarters of the Europeans overlooked the beautiful blue ocean, and where right underneath, in complete darkness and squalor, thousands and thousands of African slaves were cramped together in unfathomable conditions, as they awaited their turn through “the door of no return,” a small opening leading to the trans-Atlantic ships. Quite humbling, if not gut-wrenching at times, and certainly an eye-opening experience, one that leaves you feeling everything but neutral. Might I add that it was also slightly troubling to spend our days visiting these architectural testaments to human inequality and suffering, and heading back to our lavish resort in the evening, to go take a dip in the pool overlooking the ocean. I also made the mistake of reading Jamaica Kincaid’s "A Small Place" while we were in Cape Coast and Elmina, and though I recommend this powerful inquiry into the links between colonialism, globalization and tourism to absolutely everyone, I don’t necessarily recommend it when one is on a “tropical vacation” (cause it certainly puts you back in your place as a tourist). Tourist/obruni guilt aside, our visit to Cape Coast and Elmina was fascinating and we fell under the charm of these quaint towns bursting with history and culture, and overlooking an ocean of the bluest blue.
But there were other adventures to be had, and so it is that after a few days on the coast, it was time to head inland, to Kumasi, at the heart of the Ashanti Kingdom. After a long and exhausting trotro ride (try six hours with thirty people squeezed in a decrepit mini-bus), we arrived in the evening and settled into our room at the Pine Executive Lodge, which actually sounds much fancier than it is. Our first day was spent exploring Kumasi, a lovely town with one of the largest markets in Ghana (and btw, large does not equal spacey…so claustrophobes please abstain from visiting said market) and much more greenery than its cousin to the South (Accra). The following day, we hired a friendly taxi driver to take us around the Kumasi area, where one can find Ashanti shrines, Kentey cloth weavers (the Ashanti and much brighter equivalent of the Scottish quilt fabric in that patterns denote different “clans” and stories) and a butterfly sanctuary (where we strolled through the lush tropical forest.)
Our bags a bit bigger and bit heavier (there is good shopping to be done in Kumasi and surrounding area ;-), we grabbed a North-Bound trotro, in the direction of Tamale. Rather than subjecting ourselves to an eight hour trotro ride straight to Tamale, we decided to break up our journey with a stopover in Boabeng Fiena, a taxi ride and then trotro ride away from Techiman (aka really far in the middle of nowhere). And quite thankful were we ultimately to have taken this diversion, as it ended up being one of the many highlights of the trip. Why, ask you? Well, it so happens that Boabeng, in addition to being a charming little village in the middle of nowehere, is also a monkey sanctuary. There are two species of monkeys living on site, the colobus, forest dwellers with beautiful black and white coats, and their cousins the monas, forest but even moreso village dwellers. Indeed, these sneaky little monkeys live in (relative) harmony with the villagers, not at all afraid to come up to humans or go into their houses to steal fruit and vegetables. We were able to see entire families (the females had just had babies which they carried wrapped around their stomachs) engaging in their daily routines a few feet away from the fascinated and trigger-happy (camera trigger, that is) tourists that we were. So adorable, and so very incredible to see these creatures within touching distance (thankfully, we were both able to control our monkey-petting urges).
We spent the night in a small lodge on the outskirts of the village, where we ran into my friend Roxanne who lives in Accra and her visitors from Quebec who were also spending some time in Boabeng. A strange but certainly happy coincidence, and so it is that we had a lovely meal of rice and pepper sauce in the middle of the Ghanaian wilderness speaking good ole fashioned Quebecois (Taboire que ca fait du bien!). We also made another friend in Boabeng, unforgettable Angelina, the biggest spider I have ever ever seen in my life, with a body the size of a quarter and black legs at least 4 cms in length! Yikes. I don’t normally have a fear of spiders, but Angelina was more like a cross between a spider and a small octopus, and it so happened that she was hanging out in our room, right above our net-free beds and this, right at bed time. So it is that bravely, as I brandished my pocket knife ready to use it, Eve and I proceeded to move everything from our room into the next room, away from Angelina and her long, delicate (possibly hairy…but I didn’t get that close) legs. Strangely enough, even though we had changed rooms and set up the net, I didn’t sleep very well that night, waking up on a few occasions convinced that I could feel something large and possibly hairy crawling on me…
It was therefore tired but nevertheless happy that we left Boabeng and headed back to Techiman to grab the trotro for Tamale. The ride was long though quite interesting in that the landscape is very different in the Ghanaian North, much dryer with red sand, baoab trees and thorny bushes stretching out endlessly towards the horizon. We arrived in Tamale in the late afternoon, and settled down into our accommodation, a guest house/school established by a Cambridge-trained priest who has been living in Ghana for thirty years, which offers courses on cross-cultural relations, a library and an incredibly flowery garden. Alas, we did not stay in Tamale for very long, as we had a bus to catch the next day heading in the direction of Mole National Park. After yet another ride on a seemingly endless unpaved road, we arrived in Mole shortly after the sun had set, having no idea what our eyes would see the next day. Mind you, the family of warthogs ruminating noisily outside of our window as we unpacked did give us a vague idea. It was feeling like children on the eve of Christmas that we settled into slumber for the night, eagerly awaiting our 5:45AM wake time (I never thought I would use the words 5:45AM and eager in the same sentence). Why, ask you, were we getting up so early? To go on a walking safari, of course! Mole is one of the only places (if not the only place) in Africa (and the world, I assume) where you can actually walk in the game park. Armed with a rifle (that he thankfully didn’t have to use) our guide led us through a minute portion of this wild wonderland, where we were able to see antilopes, warthogs, guinea fowl, a crocodile and above all ELEPHANTS!!!!! Mole Motel overlooks two watering holes, and this being the dry (and hot hot hot) season, the said watering holes are one of the main hang-outs for the poor overheated elephants. So not only did we have a chance to walk next to the watering holes as the elephants bathed and sprayed each other with their trunks, but we were also able to admire them from above, on the terrasse adjacent to the hotel pool. What beautiful creatures, so big and yet so tranquil…almost zen-like in their aura. To complete our of Ghanaian fauna adventures, we were also able to see a massive quantity of baboons and green monkeys, as they descended upon the pool area of the hotel to drink (from the pool…that just has to break at least a few health and safety regulations) and steal scraps of food under the dining tables. Though I was nearly attacked by a baboon (I was standing in her way chatting up a fellow tourists, so it was my fault really), I was beyond delighted to see these visitors descend upon the hotel property and treat it as their own. I guess that ultimately, only a few genes and ownership of VISA cards separate the paying guests from the non-paying guests at Mole Motel.
We spent two full days in Mole, though I would have stayed on forever in this incredibly peaceful (okay, apart from the baboon ruckus) stretch of the Ghanaian wilderness. My sister mentioned I could always run away with the baboons and become their queen (which is such a sister thing to say!), and though tempted by her proposition time eventually came for she and my regal baboon self to leave Mole. Alas, that time also happened to be 4AM in the morning, because for some reason, the only bus that leaves Mole to go back to Tamale does so before sunrise, and is packed to the brim with people standing in the alley and a driver gingerly honking away, which is really a lovely way to get sucked back into reality after a few days in safari paradise. But hey, we got to see elephants from a few metres away, so we can’t complain, really. Plus, the early start allowed us to arrive super early in Tamale, and though we wasted a portion of the day napping in our room (because who the heck wakes up at 3:30 anyways?), we still got to visit the town for a few hours. And so it is that feeling tired but certainly fulfilled we enjoyed our last night in Tamale, which also happened to be the last night of our trip. Though tempted by the idea of a 17 hour bus ride (this is if the bus doesn’t break down and traffic is good), Eve and I decided to splurge and buy ourselves two one-way tickets on Antrak Air (not the most comforting name, but oh well) from Tamale to Accra. And so within one hour as opposed to 17, we were back home in Accra, ready to enjoy our last days together.
Because no tourist experience is complete without some material possessions to immortalize the experience, we did some shopping. We also paid a goodbye visit to Tim’s family where his mother treated us to her famous Fufu (the best Fufu in Accra, as I like to call it) and went for supper at Tante Marie’s –a lovely Ivoirian restaurant-- with Melinda, Jacques and Gislain. On Friday afternoon, the time for goodbyes had alas arrived and it was with much sadness that I saw my sister off to the airport so she could board her plane and head back to the bitter Canadian cold. I’ve been missing her terribly since (try spending three full weeks 24hours/day with someone and then suddenly stopping) but at the same time I am also very happy we had a chance to embark on this incredible adventure and to discover together a small portion of the rich and vibrant country that is Ghana.
Since, I have been getting back to my work, which is always a bit of a challenge after a holiday. But with little over three months left before my return to Canada, let’s just say that I am feeling the noose tighten, and so there’s not much time to wallow in end-of-vacation self-pity. So yes, my darlings, ‘tis my long report of the past three weeks. It’s been busy, it’s been amazing, it’s been incredible and unforgettable. Needless to say that I’m itching to come back and show you all the pictures we took! But in the meantime, the few samples posted above will have to suffice.
I miss you all and think of you often.
Sending you much love from (still/always sunny and warm) Ghana.
Gros bisous mes cheris xxx
Sophie, Queen of the Baboons
posted by Sophie @ 3:18 AM
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