Accra Day 2

A whirlwind day of playing tourist, with stops at three museums (I won't bore you with the deets) a visit to a slave fort (Ussher Fort, don't say Fort Ussher cos they won't understand) ; St. Jamestown (the British part of Old Accra, and the Accra Mall, which is just as boring as any Canadian mall, but a point of pride with the locals and The Arts Centre, which is a traditional African market selling crap to tourists within a maze of tiny stalls.

I hired a driver and the day was a good initiation into life in Accra. As you drive through the city there are people trying to sell you anything and everything at every traffic stop. Tables, plantain, apples, remote control units, pocket knives, drinks and books were just a few of the items I declined.After a couple of incidents, I have decided to be very cautious taking pictures here. Stupidly, I forgot the aforementioned ban on taking pictures of government buildings and officers and tried to take a picture of the courthouse. I was kindly warned by one of the street sellers that I should be more careful, because if a police officer saw me I would be in some trouble, and there is no shortage of police officers on the street here. The second incident involved me videotaping as we entered the beach at Jamestown, which led to a brief, but heated exchange between my driver and a local member of the Ga tribe, who inhabit Jamestown. After that I decided I would only take pictures when my driver said it was OK. It was kinda scary.The beach at Jamestown is home to a shanty slum of fisherman, and the deprivation and poverty there made me realize that I was in one of the worst areas of the city. There is no way I would ever venture here alone, but I am grateful that my driver took me there and it is difficult to even write about it without getting emotional. A number of shacks/homes lined the beach which was populated with many goats who were cowering next to “buildings” to avoid the midday sun. I felt very much like I was intruding and not terribly welcome. One man took it upon himself to show us around and I “dashed” (Dash- a bribe or gift) him a couple of Cedis (money). It was Thursday, which is like Sunday for the Ga people, so the fishermen were not fishing, but instead were working on their nets and boats, which are really just wooden canoes of varying sizes. I half expected to meet Sally Struthers, it was that gut wrenching. The tour at Ussher Fort (a slave trading fort) was kind of mediocre, but just the fact of standing there and knowing what happened was very eerie. The fort is set on a cliff above the harbour, and the sound of the waves crashing below took on a grim meaning, knowing that those waves brought in the ships that led people through the “door of no return” where they would make their final journey to the New World, never to see their family or homeland again, where their offspring would be subject to the same horrors that they endured. My god, the things we do to each other. On a happier note, The Arts Centre, was kind of fun. Immediately, I was accosted by a few people wanting to take me to their stall, and I was not even out of the vehicle yet. I bought one item and bargained the guy down a bit, but I know that I overpaid. My heart is not really into playing hardball with people who are struggling to get by, but the bargaining is kind of fun. The Accra Mall was really boring, but if I get homesick I could go there and feel like I was at home, as it is an empty and vacuous monument to blind consumerism and selfish gratification as any mall in Toronto. The only thing that made me realise I was in Africa, is that it took us half an hour (seriously) to get out of the parking lot. God bless the Asian lady who gave the guys directing traffic hell, as they were not stopping traffic on the roadway to let us out, and the crowd of cars just kept stacking up in the parking lot.