Dada and Isa

Asalam alekem:
    I remember a conversation before I left Semester at Sea in which I told somebody that the country I was most excited to experience was Ghana. I expected that everywhere else I would see would be relatively unoriginal and Ghana would be unlike anything I had ever seen. Well I was wrong, dreadfully in wrong, in assuming that the other countries would be banal, but I was right in predicting Ghana to be the most unique.
    Before arriving in Ghana there had been 2 real moments that I could point two as truly transformative. The first was my last day in Japan. I learned the beauty of walking aimlessly through a foreign town; devoting a day to stop and use all of my senses, to explore the unexplored, and to exit the touristy bubble. The second was my last day in Mauritius. Though I had interacted with people before it was at that SOS village that I realized how moving their stories can be and how much more special it is seeing the country through their eyes.
As I write this, just a day after I left, I’m not sure if I will look back at Ghana, in its entirety, as the third big moment on my trip, but I do know that I will never forget the people that I have met and the kindness I have experienced.
   Accra is a city of 2 million people, but one would only know that from reading a book. The tallest building could not have been more than 2 or 3 stories, the big stadium, though it had a fairly large capacity, looked like one built for a Texas high school, and the entire city seemed like a oversized, congested village. Women were carrying heavy object on their heads, men were in better shape than anyplace I had ever been (presumably because of the extensive manual labor), and, on a very shallow level, it was the same as the Africa you read in the books. Well, rather than staying in the shallow end, why don’t we dive in deeper.
   On the first day, Sunday, we arrived around 9am. Upon disembarking from the ship it was evident we were in a industrial port not designed for passenger ships. SAS provided (thanks to a $10 fee they charged everyone) a 5 minute shuttle through the industrial port to a nearby gas station in the city of Tema, or an hour long shuttle to the heart of Accra. Unfortunately, the shuttle to Tema was a small van and constantly filled up quickly, making it difficult to meet the people who were going to take us around. Luckily, someone in our group happened to make conversation with a cop who took us so that we didn’t have to wait for the shuttle.
   Wait, what’s that? Who were we supposed to meet? Great question! My friend Jill’s father works with a man named Solomon who is originally from Ghana. Solomon called up his cousin, Ishmael (who goes by his nickname, Isa), who offered to take us around. So, I joined a group of Jill, my friend Chloe, Sarah and Tolin and we, excitedly but frankly nervously as well, met up with Isa. As we got out of the car Isa was with his other cousin, Dada (Dada means father and is the name children often go by when they are a Jr./ share the same name as their father). We hoped into a shared cab an went into Accra.
   The ride was hot, sweaty and crowded and I began regretting my decision not to just go to the beach with some friends. Finally, when we got to the Accra mall I was able to stretch my limbs. We stopped by the local supermarket, got some water, chocolate, and juice and headed into town.
   Our first stop was the Osu Children’s village. Unfortunately when we got there most the children were still in church and unable to come hang out. We stayed there only for a brief period and then headed to lunch.
   For lunch we went to a little restaurant near Isa’s house. For rice, fries, and salad it cost 1 Cedi (75 cents). Not the greatest food I have ever eaten, at all, but it does help to show how it is even possible for 48% of the world to live on less than $2 a day (I am, by no means, saying this makes it easy or desirable, merely more comprehendible). From lunch Isa took us to his house to introduce us to his family.
   Isa lived in an area called Nima. His house consisted of 4 metal walls and a roof. Inside there was a mattress on the floor, a 2 person couch, a television, laptop, mini fridge and DVD player. He had his limited clothing hang above his mattress. The community shared a few communal toilets and showering consisted of filling up a bucket by the well and dumping it on yourself. Even so, he quickly invited all of us to sleep over, shower and completely make ourselves feel at home. While I didn’t take him up on his first two offers (for a variety of reasons), he made it impossible not to feel at home. How amazing of a person he and Dada were was becoming readily apparent.
  From his home we did a quick walking tour. We saw his village, saw parliament, the Supreme Court, the monument to the first president Kwame Nkruma and a variety of other attractions. The tour concluded at Jamestown. I had read about Jamestown and was excited to see it. The books said it was an attraction not frequented by tourists but those who go often claim it to be their most memorable experience in Ghana. Sounds about right. Jamestown is an old fishing village. The beaches are lined with shacks and the level of poverty is certainly high. Yet, as the kids frolic through the sand or jump into the water the level of happiness seems to be as high as possible. A local resident, who claimed to be friends with Dada, though Dada swears he had never met him before, showed us around. It truly was the place where the serenity of the ocean felt the hard reality of poverty. The two seemed to learn from each other. The impoverished people were given hope by the water, but the polluted water was jaded by a struggling people. Memorable seems to be the only fitting adjective.
  From Jamestown we went to the Kaneshie Market. This market is the second biggest (to Makola) in Accra. Isa’s family owns a shop there so we were all excited to purchase goods from him and try and pay him back for showing us around all day. He had taken the day off, refused to allow us to pay, and truly welcomed us into his home. Once we got to his shop he told us to put our bags down and said we’d come back to his shop later but that we should walk around the rest of the market first.
   After spending a couple of hours bargaining we saw the end of the market: the Drums. There, we played drums with some of the locals, danced, and sang. We met men like Baby Rasta and Ishmael who were so happy to just meet Americans. It was starting to get dark, so we continued back to their shop hoping to spend a few more Cedis and support Dada and Isa. Well, we never got the chance because they refused to let us pay. They gave us each a gift and said they just wanted us to remember them. Their kindness was unbelievable.
   It was already 7 and we wanted to catch the last shuttle at 11pm back to Tema so we went back to their place, some people showered, and headed to dinner. For dinner we had heard of a place called Frankie’s so we took them there. It was American and great and a nice break from being cultured—my pallet got to enjoy immaturity as I delved into a cheese pizza. The night ended with some ice cream at Frankie’s outside parlor downstairs and a walk to the shuttle. The day was so incredibly amazing (plus more awesome adjectives) that I kind of wished I was hanging out with them some more.

Stay tuned folks!