Today’s post is 1600 words, 48 photos, 2 videos, an 8 minute read. Enjoy!

Hi everyone,

Welcome back to my continuing series on Ghana, West Africa. This week I’ll take you from Accra to Cape Coast and back again. We’ll tour a couple of slave castles and attend Palm Sunday services at a local church. If you missed my previous seven posts, click here, here, here, here, here, here, and here.

Accra

It was mid-morning when we returned to Accra from our two-day detour to Tamale and Mole National Park. We were met by Martin, the bus driver. He had kept our luggage safe while we were away. Our first stop was at Global Mamas, a fair trade store created by a couple of former Peace Corp workers and six Ghanaian women to provide a marketing outlet for handmade products made by women. The maker network consists of fabric artists, bead makers, seamstresses, soap makers, shea producers, paper and basket makers, and others.

The store manager provided a short overview of the Global Mamas story and turned us loose to browse and buy. It didn’t take long for us to find nice gifts for the folks back home.

As I was walking around the store, I noticed this poster about the use of organic cotton. Global Mamas sources their organic cotton from a company in India after local sources in Africa went out of business. 

If you are interested in purchasing their products, check out their website at the link above. In addition, there are 58 outlets for their products in the United States. It’s a great story and helps support hundreds of women entrepreneurs.

Before leaving Accra for Cape Coast, we stopped for lunch at a restaurant that was a story above street level. While waiting for lunch to be served, I watched the action on the busy intersection below. If you need a pair of Crocs, this fellow had them in all sizes and colors. They likely came from the UK, Asia, or the US as merchandise that didn’t sell and donated to a charity then shipped to Ghana where second-hand traders sell them in local markets. It’s a big business and a source of income for many families.

The restaurant was across the street from the main post office. The red panel of boxes on the wall are post office boxes for individuals and businesses. From what I gathered, home delivery of mail is limited to gated or planned communities. Most everyone else has a post office box. There were thousands of them around the building.

Cape Coast

After lunch, we set off from Accra for the 3.5 hour drive west to Cape Coast. This city of nearly 200,000 people is on the Gulf of Guinea and an important fishing port. Cape Coast is home to the University of Cape Coast, Ghana’s leading teaching and research university. In addition, there are several well-known secondary and technical schools located in Cape Coast. Families that can afford it send their children to boarding school in Cape Coast. The local tribal language is Fante.

It was late afternoon when we arrived at the Arafynn Hotel in Pedu, a suburb of Cape Coast. We were assigned to a comfortable room and had a relaxing dinner in their open air restaurant.

The next morning we had a leisurely start to the day with a nice traditional breakfast. Soon we were back on the bus for the first of two visits to UNESCO World Heritage Sites in the Cape Coast area. The first iteration of Cape Coast Castle was built in the mid-1500s by the Portuguese traders. Later Sweden followed by other European nations took over until 1664 when the British captured the Castle. First gold then slaves destined for the UK, US, Caribbean, and South America were the main commodities traded at this fortress. It’s estimated that 70,000 slaves per year were exported from Cape Coast Castle until the slave trade was outlawed by the British in 1807.

Our tour of the Castle was led by Thomas. He did an excellent job of explaining how slaves were gathered, how they lived and were treated after capture. Many died from disease, lack of food, and poor treatment. More died on board the ships that carried them to their destinations. The numbers are astounding, such a waste of human life. Thomas told us that he wasn’t telling us these stories to create hate or anger but to remember and never let it happen again. Even today, we hear of human trafficking and slavery. It was a lot to think about.

Thomas took us on a walking tour of the Castle. We saw the many cannons and mortars that protected the fort from invaders. He took us to the dungeon where the male slaves were kept. No wonder so many died, it was damp, the air was close, and the slaves were packed into the dank rooms.

This is the Door of no Return that the slaves walked through onto a ship that would take them away. It was spooky to walk down that hallway where hundreds of thousands of slaves trod never to return.

Fortunately, after we walked through the Door of no Return we could return.

Outside the door, a group of fisherman were mending nets. Off in the distance, there was a fleet of fishing vessels.

While the visit to Cape Coast Castle was sobering, it was also educational and interesting.

Elmina

Our next stop was a few miles down the coast from the Cape Coast Castle at another UNESCO World Heritage Site, Elmina or St. George’s Castle. Elmina was built by the Portuguese in the late 1400s, first as a trading post for gold then as a slave castle. The stories of the two castles are similar, hundreds of thousands captured slaves left through the Door of no Return onto slave ships destined for the new world.

This fellow gave a brief introduction and turned our tour over to the young woman in the second  and third photos.

We toured the dungeons and cells where slaves were held until they left on the ships.

Again, the walk to the Door of no Return gave me goosebumps and made me wonder what thoughts were going through the minds of those making the walk.

One of the emphasis of this tour was on the Governor General in charge of the Castle. His quarters were on the second floor. In his apartment was a wooden door that led to a room below where young  women were waiting to be called to be his pleasure.

From the top of Elmina Castle, the fishing village lay before us across a narrow channel. There were hundreds of boats and on the dock was “shanty” town where the fishers lived with their families. In the other direction was a large market filled with people. It was a busy place.

After our time at Elmina, Papa directed the bus to a very nice resort on the beach where we had lunch. It was a welcome respite after two intense and emotional tours. That evening we were back at the Arafynn Hotel for a relaxing evening.

Palm Sunday

The next morning, we were up early, some of our group were going to Palm Sunday services at St. John the Baptist Catholic Church near our hotel. The bus dropped us off at the church entrance. As we approached the church, a young woman asked if we planned to attend services. “Yes, we did.” She pointed to a path that meandered between several houses and told us the procession would begin at the old church. Just then another woman came by and we were told to follow her. On the way, we passed by a man taking a shower outside his house without regard to the parade of people walking past him.

Soon a crowd began to gather in the courtyard of the old church. It grew larger when the parish priest arrived with several deacons and alter servers. In short order and nearly on time, the service began. Some of the service was in English, some in the local Fante language. After the opening the large gathering processed on the road singing and waving palms. It was a joyous celebration.

 

When the procession reached the new church, we all entered continuing to wave our palms. I noticed that all the pews were filled with men dressed in dashiki suites or tribal smocks, women with colorful dresses and head scarves, and children spit polished clean wearing their Sunday best. There was a band with two men playing guitar, a drummer, plus other instruments. The women choir sat in front wearing matching dress. The singing was loud, it had to be so as to be heard over the many whirling fans. It was a joyous celebration.

It was obvious that there were visitors, we were the only whites in attendance. We didn’t mind and neither did they, we were warmly welcomed. The service lasted so long that we had to leave before it was done. It was another of those wonderful and meaningful cultural experiences in Ghana.  

After we returned to the hotel and had breakfast we were headed back to Accra. That evening most of the group was delivered to the airport for the flight back home to the United States. My Traveling Partner and I were staying a few extra days for another adventure to meet up with my friend who was one of my handlers when I was a volunteer in Ghana in 2016. That’s where I’ll pick up the story next week.

Until then, happy travels!

Tom

PS: Click here for a link to the post about my book “Farm Boy.” Contact me if you are interested in purchasing a copy. Thanks to all have plunked down your hard earned dollars and read the book. TM