Harriet Jean Evans takes a look at the social commentary of the past, and explains why she believes it just doesn't matter.
Our anonymous blogger reflects on her attempts to have a student Christmas... and how she came to the conclusion that home-made is always best.
Gillian Love urges you to vote 'No' to the motion to replace Women's Committee with a 'Gender Equality Committee'.
During our pre-trip research, one name kept cropping up on the list of recommended hotels: the Green Turtle Lodge. Run by a lovely British couple, Green Turtle is a beachside eco-resort near the fishing village of Akwidaa in the Western Region. I've only ever been to one beach in the UK, and that was in Scarborough on a rather chilly spring day. This, however, was a very different proposition. There were no novelty donkey rides or seaside carnivals - just the waves crashing against the shore.
Still, our journey to the beach was pretty eventful! We'd taken a State Transport Corporation (STC) bus from Accra to the city of Takoradi. To our initial dismay we found out that the air-conditioning in the bus wasn't working. However, it turned out that the four hour bus ride wasn't that uncomfortable, as the bus travelled at such a great speed that we had the wind cooling us anyway. From Takoradi we hurriedly got into a tro-tro to take us to the junction town of Agona, from where we were supposed to catch another tro-tro to Akwidaa. During the first tro-tro ride, it began raining heavily, and I was alarmed to see my driver steering with only one hand and wiping the rainwater off the inside of the windshield with his other! All too frequently a pair of headlights would suddenly appear in front of us and miss us by inches. Luckily the rain cleared up just as we were pulling into Agona. When we finally got going on our second tro-tro ride, I found myself sandwiched in between the driver and a rather heavy-set woman; ever so often I found I had to squeeze to my right to make sure the driver could move the gear shift properly. The ride itself was extremely bumpy, on an unpaved dirt road, but it was worth it for one of the loveliest places we had ever been to.
We stayed in a hut by the beach; in keeping with the ecological ideals of the Lodge, we were only provided with a limited amount of (solar-powered) electricity each day. Not that we stayed in the huts very much - the sea was just too inviting, and we whiled away many hours battling the waves on bodyboards. Another interesting feature of the huts were the toilets. To save water, the Green Turtle Lodge uses self-composting toilets - essentially a "long drop" and some ash sprinkled on afterwards to keep the smell away. It didn't work all the time (particularly at night), but it wasn't anything too bothersome really! Sandflies, however, were the bane of our existence. Well, to be fair I didn't get bitten, but one of my friends did, and he was covered in angry red marks for most of our trip.
We left Green Turtle just after New Year's and headed to Cape Coast, the capital city of the Central Region. The city is known for its castle, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Built in the 17th century by Sweden, the castle ended up in the hands of the English in 1664. Initially used for timber and gold, Cape Coast Castle later became a focal point of the trans-Atlantic slave trade. African prisoners were kept in dungeons here before being sent to the colonies to be slaves. The Castle overlooks a very picturesque and lively fishing harbour and is a very impressive example of colonial architecture. Yet the castle's secret, horrible past is not forgotten, thanks to the efforts of the Ghanaian government. The guided tour of the Castle was informative, educational and extremely harrowing. The slave dungeons are incredibly cramped and dark, with little ventilation. Prisoners, we were told, were not given a toilet and had to do their business on the floor, waiting for the rains to come to cleanse their quarters. The slaves were then taken through the infamous 'Door of No Return', so named because once you went through, you never came back. I was quite moved to find out, however, that in 1998 arrangements were made for some descendants of slaves to enter the 'Door' from the other side; that side is now marked the 'Door of Return', in an effort to make up for the horrors of centuries past.
The other main tourist attraction in the Central Region is the Kakum National Park, a 375 square-kilometre area of semi-deciduous rainforest. On our trip there we didn't see any animals. Supposedly the Park is home to forest elephants, civet cats, and many species of monkey, but our chances of encountering them were pretty low to begin with. This was not helped by a large group of students on a school trip, who happily ignored the "Do Not Make Noise" signs and scared off any lurking creatures. Not that it mattered. We decided to skip the Canopy Walk as we felt it was too expensive, and instead asked for a guided walk on the ground. It was a better decision, as we got to see the many interesting species of plants in the rainforest up close. One of the more scary trees is called the Strangling Fig, a tree that latches on to a "host" tree and uses it for nutrition, eventually killing it. The one we saw had loads of gnarly branches and a gaping hole where bits of the host tree used to be. Pretty creepy if you ask me (and yes there's a pun in there somewhere...)
Our last major activity in Cape Coast with a cooking class organised by the Global Mamas NGO. Our instructors were Esi and her sister Mary, who took us through the finer points of making Ghanaian cuisine. To be honest I am useless at cooking and this class didn't really change that (I spent what seemed like an eternity chopping vegetables), but Esi and Mary were very patient teachers. The most interesting dish that we learned how to make was fufu (boiled yams pounded into a gooey ball). We used a traditional mortar and pestle, a task that we never quite got round to mastering. We got to eat everything we cooked, which actually turned out pretty alright!
On our last day in Ghana we left Cape Coast for Accra for our flight back to Gatwick. We had dinner at the Accra Mall, a large shopping centre at the Tetteh Quarshie Interchange. Having been used to dusty streets and overcrowded markets for the better part of 10 days, heading into the air-conditioned Mall with its flashy stores (Nike, TM Lewin etc.) was a bit of a culture shock. Our dinner was a bit more expensive as well, although it was a rather delicious fried chicken/fried rice combo. As my friend rightly pointed out, however, this was as much a side of Ghana as the beaches, tro-tros, and roadside markets.
I think what I'll take most out of this trip is how wonderful and hospitable the Ghanaian people are. Being Asian, we immediatley stood out as tourists, but we were rarely harrassed (unlike, say, Morocco). Instead we were treated with extreme kindness, and complete strangers often went out of their way to help us, expecting nothing in return. We didn't spend much time in Ghana, and barely scratched the surface of what this wonderful country has to offer, but it was nonetheless one of the most memorable trips I've taken, and I'm fairly grateful I've had the opportunity to do so.
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