Imagine

“It’s crazy. Not long ago there were people running around here hunting for slaves.” I looked out the bus window and tried to process what Julie had just said. It made my skin crawl and gave me a lump in my throat. When we got to the slave castle I just felt numb. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I wanted to cry but there were no tears. I wanted to vomit, but my stomach just felt like a void. Never before have I felt like I did that day.

Two weekends ago CIEE, my program, took us to Cape Coast, which is a town on the coast of Ghana that is home to two slave castles, Elmina Castle and Cape Coast Castle. We went to Elmina. It was originally set up by the Portuguese, but then taken over by the British. Its purpose was to hold captured slaves until either death or their shipment to the Caribbean, U.S., or other places of servitude.

We were given a tour of the place and were shown the many different parts. We went into the female and male holding cells where men and women would be shoved tightly into small rooms for about 3 months at a time. We also went through to the door of no return. This door was the last they saw of the Ghanaian shore before being piled into the slave ships. It was one of the narrowest doors I’ve seen. Upstairs there were the governor’s quarters and his colleagues’ living space. It was disgustingly nice. There was a fireplace and his bedroom had painted walls and wood floors. I can’t imagine how evil a person must be to be able to enjoy a nice fireplace when there are men dying and women being raped downstairs. There was even a Bible verse posted on the wall of one of his rooms.

The hypocrisy of it all is baffling. The English, Dutch, and Portuguese that operated out of that castle all considered themselves men of God. There’s even a Portuguese church in the middle of the courtyard. There were priests integral to their operations and who lived on the grounds. It’s absolutely disgusting. Our tour guide said that he had thought about it for a long time and came to the conclusion that they had no connection with any Christian God. It’s amazing how perverted religion can be to commit some of the greatest crimes of humanity.

There was also a room designated for the rape of women. The children of those rapes were outcast as Mulattos and were rejected by both the white and black in Ghana. Another room was a death cell. Above the door is a skull and crossbones. As I stepped in I was overcome with the odor of death. It still smelled of death. They would cram up to 60 people in this room of maybe 10x15 feet. They were left in there until every last human died. There are etchings and scratches on the walls. Now the only occupant of the room is a heart wreath left by an African-American who came to visit the place of their ancestry.

The castle is such a repulsive place but at the same time, a visitor’s first impression is its beauty. It’s a giant white stone castle on the ocean, surrounded by palm trees. It’s eerie how something can be so incredibly horrific and beautiful at the same time. It’s almost like you feel guilty for noticing the beauty.

After we left the castle we went to Slave River. Most of the slaves collected were captured in the northern and central parts of Ghana, not directly on the coast. As part of their journey to the coast, they were taken to this particular river to be bathed one last time. We went down to the waters and stuck in our fingers to remember those who were shackled. As we did this there were Ghanaian children mingling with us, trying to get money. It makes me sick to see what the world has done to these people.

After this trip we had a group discussion about all of it. Different things stuck out to different people. The thing that struck me the most was the realization that such deep divisions still exist. The average human mind seems almost incapable of seeing the fact that we’re all human. The divisions between race, ethnicity, nationality, sex, sexuality, etc, are so incredibly strong. It seems to me that the many of the people in the world can’t see past these minor differences and just open up their arms. I feel that there is a real lack of empathy in humanity. Humans are unable to fathom horrors that they haven’t either witnessed or experienced. None of us really can, but we can realize that there is an unimaginable pain that needs to be stopped. We hear through the media or through word-of-mouth that there are ridiculous amounts of child soldiers in Burma, or there is mass raping in the eastern DRC, or that 100,000 civilians have died in Iraq. People will see that these are horrible things, but I don’t think enough of us really realize how terrible it is. I feel as though too many people see these as just distant images, removed from their own society, something that doesn’t affect them directly; something that can be dealt with by political leaders, if they can fix anything at all. It really affects us all, though. All these atrocities reflect humanity. And we are humanity.

I just kept staring out the window on the way back. There was a little boy squatting to defecate on a large pile of trash. A minute down the road was a resort with a waterslide. In my ears all I could hear was John Lennon.

Imagine there’s no heaven

It’s easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

Imagine all the people living for today

Imagine there’s no countries, it isn’t hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion too

Imagine all the people living life in peace

You may say I’m a dreamer

But I’m not the only one

I hope some day you’ll join us

And the world will live as one

Imagine no possessions

I wonder if you can

No need for greed or hunger

A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people sharing all the world

You may say I’m a dreamer

But I’m not the only one

I hope some day you’ll join us

And world will live as one.

Finally 20

“Whenever you have your birthday in Ghana, people ‘pond’ you. They pour water and flour on you to make sure you appreciate the pain your mother went through for child birth.” This seems a bit harsh. Another one of my friends here said that he was ‘ponded’ when he was a freshman and that they basically threw water at his back so that it was like a whipping. That doesn’t seem like a happy birthday to me! Luckily, they don’t really do this to girls, and my Ghanaian friends don’t seem like the type to do this. But today is my BIRTHDAY! I’m really excited to celebrate tonight with my new amazing friends here. We’re not sure what we’re doing yet, but I know it will be one to remember.

Things here are starting to fall into line. I finally understand the tro-tro system a bit better, and I’m meeting more people. I like walking around alone because then I always meet more people. When we travel in groups we probably seem intimidating or isolated. When we’re alone I would imagine we seem more approachable.

We went to a beach called Kokrobite Beach this last weekend. We spent the night in houses basically on the beach for only about 8 USD. The people there were so nice. There were two guys I met who are from Burkina Faso and they were there with a Frenchman. They both played the kora and they taught me how to play a song on it (although I’ve already forgotten it). It is such a beautiful instrument. When I was playing it, the sound and the look of the strings really reminded me of a harp. Now I really want to buy one here!

On Saturday we went to the Aburi Botanical Gardens. We had to drive into a mountainous region and it was gorgeous. Unfortunately our bus broke down on the way there and also on the way back. However, we were still able to go to the gardens and also to a bead market. We got to see how they make the beads here and then buy some of them.

So this morning for my breakfast, one of my Ghanaian friends, A.B. (real name is Abraham), made me basically an English breakfast. It was egg, beans, and corned beef. I ate part of it because I didn’t want to waste it, but honestly I felt like I was going to have a heart attack! The British influence here is very apparent. Ghana gained their independence from them in 1957, but the British culture still lingers. The Ghanaians may not think so, but we Americans can definitely notice a slight British accent in the Ghanaian English. And their word choice for things is very British. For instance, they call bars, drinking pubs, pants are trousers, and lines are queues. I bet when I go to London later on, I’ll find even more parallels.

The other day I switched around my classes so now instead of taking African Traditional Religion and Identities and Conflicts in Africa, I’m taking a class on Pidgin and Creole Languages. We’ll study countries including Haiti, Jamaica, Cameroon, Sierra Leone, Ghana and Nigeria. I really can’t wait! Maybe I’ll learn how to speak Ghanaian Pidgin.

I’ve found their main indigenous language Twi (pronounced somewhat like chrwee) to be quite difficult. First off, the pronunciation is difficult to get down. There are just the slightest differences in pronunciations that will completely change the meaning of the word. There are also two symbols that are not found in the alphabet we’re used to. One of them is causing problems for me because it looks like an E written in the way where it looks like a backwards 3. I’ll do this on my regular e’s a lot, so I have to be careful when writing in Twi because it could change the word or make it completely wrong. And we’ve learned that what is written isn’t even really how you say it. They really just mush it all together. And there are vowels which you nasalize sometimes. It will be a challenge pick up, but hopefully by the end of my first semester I’ll have it down pretty good.

Well, I tried uploading some pictures but it wouldn't go through because the internet is so slow, so I will try again later. Now I must go off to celebrate my birthday! I am no longer a teenager…

Nante yie! (Goodbye/Safe Journey)

PS- Here in Ghana, many of the people have several names. Most have a name that is in accordance to the day on which they were born. For instance, a man named Kwame was born on a Saturday, and a man named Kofi was born on a Friday. My Ghanaian name would be Afia because I am female and was born on a Friday. Here are the names so you can figure out your own name!

Day- Male Name- Female Name

Monday- Kwadwo - Adwoa

Tuesday - Kwabena- Abena

Wednesday- Kwaku- Akua

Thursday - Yaw- Yaa

Friday - Kofi- Afia

Saturday - Kwame- Ama

Sunday - Kwasi -Akosua