Ghana (part 3)

(Most of this post was written by the wonderful Dana Roberts aka snuggle muffin aka future roommate. If you think it sound a bit like me, that's a hint at why we're such good friends.)

From our charming Kokrobite Beach, we headed toward Cape Coast where we stayed at this crocodile lagoon called Hans Cottage and Botel (advertisements say, “not a hotel, not a motel, but a botel!). After arguing for almost half an hour with our taxi driver to give us the price he told us, we made our way to the largest and oldest European castle in Sub-saharan Africa, a slave castle in Elmina. I don’t think I can fully communicate the gut wrenching that took place as we heard all the stories of this place. To walk into the woman's chambers and still be able to smell the urine that had saturated the floors at one time was repulsing. Over 100 women would get crammed into a 10x20 corridor for 2 months with no bathroom, no showers and nothing to sleep on but the cement floor that was covered with human feces (and other fluids that are excreted over the course of a month...). Every so often the governor would walk out on the balcony and have the women stand below him and he would chose one that would get a bath and then, he would rape her. Then, to think they had a chapel in the castle where they would have worship services was another kick to the stomach I always heard about the slave castles but to be honest never really thought about what happened in these places. It was an act of evil that's hard to express in words. Feel free to view it in pictures. So let me move onto a lighter subject...liiiiiiiiiike swinging through the treetops of the rain forest on rope bridges! { The next day we did a canopy tour in Kakum National Park and ummmm lets just say awesome and exhilarating! The pictures don’t do justice! (but you should still check them out HERE.) You have to wonder how well they are maintained though, because these countries tend to struggle with that...hahaha! What a great way to go though...free falling through the African rainforest right into the arms of Jesus...I could handle that :) So after the tour we headed back to Hans for one last swim before we had to hit the road annnnd 4 of us decided it was a good idea to take the 2 paddle boats out around the lagoon to see some crocs. No sign usually translates in English to: Enter At Your Own Risk. That’s what we thought anyways...but the lady who worked in the restaurant must not have spoke good english because she translated it into "What are you doing on those boats, what happens if you fall in, you have to pay $4/boat right now" Mind you, we were on them for 5 minutes! SO I decided to take action and inform her what no sign usually means to Americans and that I was not paying until I saw the cost writing (we had been ripped off WAY to many times on this trip). Well, she didn’t like that translation either so she went to the bar and printed a receipt for 8 dollars and wrote paddle boats besides it...hahahahha riiiiiiiiight, like I’m going to buy that. So, we went to reception and argued back and forth and, well, bottom line is we won!!! We didn’t have to pay...duuuuh did you really think I would give into that kind of ripping off?! So we then left for Accra and met back up with the Sonius's for another great meal (have I mentioned they are an incredible family?) and a place to sleep. Our flight left for Lagos the next day and how good it felt to be getting on a plane (and not some cramped bus/van/taxi)!!! Sooooo after a night in Lagos with some friends and hoping another plane to Jos we finally made it back! I never thought it would feel so good to be back on the Plateau! So there you have it a small chapter of my Christmas break that I will never forget!!!this shot's for you mom :)

Ghana (part2)

He giveth more grace when the burdens are greater
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added affliction he addeth his mercy
To multiplied trials, he multiplied peace.

[chorus]
His love has no limit, his grace has no measure
His power has no boundary known unto men;
For out of his infinite riches in Jesus
He giveth and giveth and giveth again!

When we have exhausted our store of endurance
When our strength is failed ere the day is half-done
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
Our Father’s full giving in only begun.

By the time we made it to Accra, our burdens seemed great, our labors many, our afflictions added, and our trials...well, you could certainly the trials seemed multiplied. O, but our God displayed how much He loves to give good gifts to His children. Truth be told, in each difficulty, we DID experience grace, protection, mercy, peace, and strength. Of course, it took a couple days spread out on the beach to clear our vision and see that. Also helping remind us of our Father’s giving was the Sonius family’s INCREDIBLE hospitality. Though the Sonius’ had never laid eyes on any of us, and my connection to them was weak (my mom grew up with Lee in Liberia way back when), they welcomed us into their home as if we were 8 children who’d just returned from travels. Upon arriving to their lovely home, we were shown our rooms (complete with AC) and then told that dinner was ready. Have I mentioned that we hadn’t eaten a complete meal in 3 days? Right, so that chicken curry with all the fixings sent the 8 of us into a euphoric state for a few hours. The next day (after another nirvana-reaching pancake breakfast) Lee and Michelle ushered us around Accra, helping us find money, booking plane tickets, arranging transport to the coast and shopping for essentials at the spanking new Accra Mall. By the afternoon, our “tro-tro” had found its way through some muddy villages to the much-anticipated BIG MILLY’S BACKYARD!! Yes, that’s the name of the place at Kokrobite Beach we stayed for 3 nights. I wouldn’t exactly classify it as a resort...but it was like a little community with accommodations ranging from communal hostel-like beds to air-conditioned personal bungalows. I had been able to arrange for our crew to have the owner’s old house for $60/night (we split that 8 ways). This cute cottage worked perfectly for us, even with the one bathroom and a few less-than-modest individuals ;-)
I’ll spare you the play-by-play of our time there at Big Milly’s and just let you check out the pictures. Basically, there was a lot of playing in the waves, noses in the books, walks along the beach, soaking up the sun, meeting the locals, eating good food, laying under the fan in the house, dueling over “settlers of catan,” and wearing non-Nigeria appropriate clothes.

Our New Year’s Eve was spent there at Big Milly’s, too. They had this huge buffet dinner, bonfire, and a jammin’ Rastafarian band (think, Bob Marley songs + popular songs sung in a Bob-Marley-esque way). Other than getting mugged when some of us went out for a stroll on the beach that night (pretty scary, but we only lost a camera and a phone) the night was fun and certainly memorable. At midnight they set off fireworks via the bonfire, and apparently had only enough prudence to avoid serious damage. Dancing (to the same Marley-esque rhythm) went on till the early morning, but most of our group opted out since the mugging decreased our gaiety.

Now, here’s the top 7.5 reasons YOU should go to Big Milly’s Backyard:
1. Whole, fresh pineapple, cut right before you on the beach for less than $1. (Most of us went on the pineapple diet there)
2. Opportunity to play a game of soccer with the locals.
(My invitation happened during a chat with a couple local dudes helping sew a dress for me. Conversation went like this:
Me: So I see [from his shirt] you’re an Arsenal fan. When’s the next game?
Dude 1: oh, yeah yeah. Tonight.
Me: OK, cool. Are you able to watch the games?
Dude 1: yes. Are you a football fan?
Me: um, well...I don’t get to see many games, but I used to play.
Dude 1&2: YOU play football?
Me: Yep. I played for my university.
Dude 2: Prove it!
Me: Bring a ball in here and I’ll prove it.
Dude 2: No, you come at 4 and prove it during our daily village game.
Me: Um...ok! I’ll be here!
3. Eccentric 50+ sales women with years of sun-damage, bright green eye-liner, and tight cut-off shorts who come sit down on your blanket and convince you to buy her snazzy homemade jewelry or Ghanian clothes.
4. All food & drinks bought are put on your tab so you don’t have to carry money
5. Chilled out rasta-dudes who are happy to help you learn to play shakers, find cool places, dance ghana-style or beat you at ping pong for free (unheard of in Nigeria).
6. Watching fishing boats being pulled in (mostly by naked little boys) with fresh catches every day.
7.5 The name and the fact “Big Milly” is really a cute, petite 60 yr old British woman.
[sorry it’s taking me so long to write these blogs about the trip. I need to finish because stuff has happened back here in Nigeria I need to write about too...life’s just so full! Stay tuned for part 3 and check out those pictures in the mean time!]

Ghana (part 1)

Before I tell you all the awe-inspiring, memory-making, jealousy-inducing aspects of the trip, I’m going to share the not-so-swell experiences. These would be the fear-actualizing, money-draining, sleep-depriving, patience-testing, frustration-escalating, migraine-inducing aspects. So as not to deprive you here’s the blow-by-blow

The plan:

Take a 12-hr coach bus down to Lagos. Coach bus or maybe taxi across to Benin. Stay a day and night in Cotonou, Benin. Take Coach bus to Ghana. Then spend 5-6 days along the coast at a couple inexpensive places. Finally, we’d fly back from Accra to Abuja and have a friend drive us back to Jos the following day. Pretty seemless plans, right?

WRONG!!

Pre-Departure

*When trying to book our flights, we discovered Nigeria’s infamy for online fraud...the websites wouldn’t accept our credit cards.

*A week before we were supposed to leave, our return flight was unexpectedly and inexplicably cancelled. Other flights from Accra to Abuja were nearly double the price so we thought we’d come back by land to Lagos, then take the direct flight from there to Jos.

*After receiving back our passports with the Ghana visas on Christmas Eve (less than 2 days before departure date), we discovered that Corinne’s was not in the mix. Thankfully, it had just been left in the copier machine at our friend’s work so he made an early morning delivery the next day. Merry Christmas!

The Journey

*ETD was 7am on Dec. 26^th. Giddy with anticipation, all 8 of us get dropped off at the bus station @ 6:45...where we’d spend the next 4 hours WAITING for our bus to show up. They kept saying over the loud speaker, “Thank you for your patience thus far. The bus is coming...”

*Due to our late departure, our safe day-bus turned into a night bus aka the biggest thou shalt not in African travel, (soon followed by “thou shalt not take pictures at border crossings”). Combined with the next complication, this meant we didn’t get into Lagos till 7am the next morning. (that’d be a 20 hour bus ride)

* Some bad dudes saw all us white folks getting back onto the bus at one of the stops and thought it’d be a lucrative venture to follow our bus (with ill intentions). Though we were all oblivious at the time, the driver was aware of these armed robbers, made a couple strategic moves (prolonging the trip), and kept us all safe.
Once arriving in Lagos, I sought about securing transportation for the rest of the trip to Ghana (couldn’t be done in Jos). Found out that the Ghana borders would be closed for the next 2 days. Consequently, no buses were leaving till then and those were already full.
Arranged for taxis to take us across the border to Cotonou at the price tag of a HUGE chunk of the cash we had on hand.
* One taxi breaks down 500 meters from the Benin border
* Nigerian “immigration officers” harassed us every 10 meters for the last mile before the border. We got all kinds of threats and attempts to intimidate us but I knew at the end of the day that THEY couldn’t keep us from leaving the country. Basically, they were just looking for a little “happy Christmas” (= a few bucks). Seemed that anyone in possession of a large stick or board with nails on it were part of the border patrol and entitled to a dash. I’m considering using this tactic next time I need to raise funds.

* At the Benin-Nigeria border we needed to get transit (48 hr) visas, which according to all the research I did, shouldn’t be a big deal and would only cost us 10,000 CFA/person (~$18). WRONG! After 3 hours of “tipping” every person at the table, walking across the street 5 times, and essentially selling the shirts off our backs and our first-born children, we made it out of there with a severely depleted pocketbook.
Benin (and Togo) are French-speaking countries...and about 1.5 people in our group spoke fluent French.

* Didn’t have a street address for the SIM guesthouse we were scheduled to stay at and our taxi drivers were clueless about Cotonou.

* Arrived in Cotonou Saturday afternoon, meaning all the banks and bureau de change’s were closed (until Monday) and the little bit of cash we had was in Naira or USD. Not to worry, we made a connection with someone at church who had a connection on the black market, naturally :)

* Needed to find the bus company to get tickets, departure time, etc. I spent 2.5 hours cruising the streets of Cotonou on a motorbike nearly in vain, until we came upon this obscure sign with ABC Transport in 10pt font.
{photo}
* The morning we were supposed to leave Benin, Marc and Lisa spent 2 hours in a desperate attempt to find a bank, bureau de change or ANYBODY who would cash traveler’s checks. Note: traveler’s checks are WORTHLESS in Africa. Meanwhile, the rest of the group had no clue where they were since they had just gone to the bank next door.

* At the Togo border, we got charged an extra 5,000 CFA for not speaking French.
140 km from Accra, Ghana, in a little village called Dabala, our reliable van makes some horrifying, wrenching, clutch-breaking noise, and then proceeds to leak coolant as we roll back. When our driver lifts the seat to look at the engine (it’s one of those Toyota vans with an engine under the front seat), he pops the radiator cap and causes Old Faithful to spew all over the front of the van. By some miracle, we’re able to get the van started again, and crawl all the way to Accra in 3^rd gear, at a rate of 60kmph.

Against all, and I do mean, ALL odds, we made it Accra, Ghana. From there, things started to improve, but then again, how could they not?!? Here’s a sample of verses we quoted to each other throughout this leg of the trip:

“We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they are good for us—they help us learn to endure. And endurance develops strength of character in us, and character strengthens our confident expectation of salvation. And this expectation will not disappoint us. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with His love.” –Rom. 5:3-5

"We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted,but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.”—2 Cor. 4:8

“Whenever trouble comes your way, let it be an opportunity for joy. For when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be strong in character and ready for anything.” –James 1:2-4