My first activity upon arriving in Accra was a two day intensive seminar on exporting artisan handicrafts and textiles put on by WATH (West African Trade Hub) which in turn is funded by USAID. The entire training was very professional – since there were both English and French speakers there, they had translators and earpieces for everyone – think the UN General Assembly similar to scenes from the Interpreter.Kathy came down with her counterpart from Segou to participate in the seminar – this makes sense since she is working directly with the Malian governmental coordination of artisans for the region of Segou. Forget about figuring out what that means – simply she tries to help artisans in Segou in any way they need it and in this case on bringing their work up to exporting standards. I won’t go into too much detail, but the seminar was pretty interesting even if most Malian artisans are not quite at the exporting level. Some of the simpler more fundamental principles covered are hopefully transferable back in Mali (since we are now back - today, Kathy is giving a brief presentation on what the seminar covered here in Segou).
Like I mentioned in my previous post, Ghanaians are very easy to talk to – I met quite a few very interesting locals and had a great time going around with them. One night, a couple of us went out dancing (if I can figure out how, there should soon be a video via YouTube of some dancing from one our stops) and were shown very generous hospitality from our hosts. Since living in Mali, I hardly ever drink – rarely with other volunteers and never with Malians (they’re Muslim) – for some reason it just doesn’t agree with me. Even so, just the simple act of going out with Ghanaians was a welcome change. Sure, I am sociable with Malians but they don’t hold ‘parties’ very often – where a lot of people gather together - hang out, dance, etc. Sitting around and drinking tea is their version of regular socializing which is not as familiar to me and harder to just sit and talk when done in another language.
On the Saturday after the seminar, one of our new friends, Andrew took us in his car (yes, like I mentioned before, some of them actually own cars down there) to Bojo Beach a little west of the capital. We spent the entire afternoon relaxing. There was a volleyball net set up and since we were unable to find a proper ball, ended up using a soccer ball – something I don’t recommend; soccer balls are quite hard for volleyball. Never-the-less, it quenched our craving for sport and was a pleasant finish to the day.Eventually, we pried ourselves out of the capital and jumped on a bus heading west. We had herd of this beautiful beach with a reputed place to stay – The Green Turtle… all we knew is it was somewhere out that direction and assumed it was near Cape Coast, the former capital during British times and the next big city west of Accra. After about 4 hours,
we got off the bus at Cape Coast only to find out we were just half way to our destination. While waiting for the next bus, we experienced our very first rain storm since last October! I miss rain and for that matter, any form of precipitation – something lacking up in Mali. The hours flew by while we were entranced by the torrential storm. Eventually, a plush new state owned bus pulled up with air-conditioning and all… something under any other circumstances would have thrilled us. Only by that point we were soaking wet outside the bus (yet still relatively warm) – this quickly changed with the addition of scarcely found air-conditioning – we were instantly freezing! You have no idea how bizarre the whole situation was to us. We were conflicted with actually feeling cold to the point of blue lips and chattering teeth and the mere novelty of being cold – a sensation long since felt in Mali. It bordered on hilarious.
Finally, we arrived at the Green Turtle late that afternoon where we promptly dropped off our bags, threw on our swimsuits and were, within seconds of arriving, swimming in the ocean. We capped off the day with a nice dinner of swordfish and rice and beans before retiring thoroughly exhausted to bed.The entire next day was spent lying in bed with a horrendous case of food poisoning. Given our limited time schedule this was quite a tragedy to waste an entire day clutching our stomachs between races to the bathroom. We made the best of it and tried to appreciate the fact that we were on
the beach.On the way back east towards Accra, we visited some old colonial forts originally built for trading and later converted during colonial times to slave prisons. We visited the Elmina and Cape Coast forts/castles
taking a tour in each. It was a humbling and somber experience. For me, it was hard to see some of the places and then to hear how they were used. I can hardly imagine what it is like for the descendants of former slaves coming to see where their ancestors passed through. I would equate it to what a Jew might feel when visiting Auschwitz and all the grief and emotion that accompanies visiting sites of so much brutality and evil. It is certainly strange to be given a tour by a Ghanaian, whose ancestors were potentially abducted during the slave 
trade, and then to think how strange it might be for the guide to be telling this history to the visiting white western tourist… you get the idea – but in any case, a necessary visit and an understanding of a history that should never be forgotten.Ok, so you’re probably wondering where the Nut
Rehab Center comes in. I’m getting to it… While visiting Elmina, I went to their newly established tourist information center. This was particularly interesting to me since I am currently trying to start up something resembling an information center back in Segou, Mali. After talking for a while eventually befriending the gentleman staffing the office, we asked him if he knew anywhere cheap in Cape Coast that we could spend the night. He said sure, called a friend staying at the Red Cross office there and asked if there was room – apparently they also rent out rooms (like a hostel) when they’re not busy. We shared a taxi (since he lived close to the hostel) and got off at the Cape Coast Regional Headquarters of the Red Cross. Upon further scrutiny of the sign while walking in, I noticed a slightly shorter sign welcoming us to the Red Cross “Nut Rehab Center”. Hmmm… Um… Kathy? Where are we?We were instantly suspicious but after a little inspection, it seemed harmless enough and dropped off our bags – we just agreed to make sure to lock our doors before going to bed. Hopefully we wouldn’t need earplugs to drown out any strange noises in the middle of the night.
(We never did resolve the issue of why his friend was staying there… just left that one a mystery).The night passed peacefully and we left for Accra that afternoon after visiting the Cape Coast castle. We spent the night with an old Peace Corps volunteer from Segou – she is the one who contacted Kathy about the WATH training since she used to work with artisans while living in Segou. We were up early and off on the next leg of our journey: east through Togo and Benin before turning back north to Mali. I’ll leave you there and fill you in with the rest of my trip in the next edition.
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