Friday, July 5 Accra

I'm off to Cape Coast today, done with Accra for a few weeks till I return for my flight back to the U.S.
I've spent many hours walking Accra. I've been in good neighborhoods and bad, in the hills and by the seashore. I've taken a few photos but can't access them until I get wifi. I got one photo through somehow, an interesting building I found in the rich part of the city.

One thing seems apparent. The tourist industry in Accra is in decline, if not almost extinct. When I get a chance I'll post two pictures of the erstwhile Afia African Village. It is described as Midrange by Lonely Planet. "One of the nicest places to stay in Accra," opines the book. "Though that might be because with a beachfront location, spectacular views and pretty garden, this doesn't feel like an Accra hotel at all." Now it does, at least to the squatters who reside there presently.

This was once a fine resort on the oceanfront of Accra. Now squatters reside inside.

The shoreline of Accra. No homes, no beaches, nothing but this wasteland.

One of the odd things about Accra is that it really has no seashore. The ocean is there, but there are few buildings oriented to the west. Mostly the littoral is deserted, trashy and desolate. I don't understand why. There must be money to be made there even with the famous undertow that keeps people out of the water.
Several other places that I tried to stay have gone out of business, too. And the places I have inhabited were never near full. Other parts of the Ghana economy seem viable, especially, of course, the banks. They are everywhere, and imposing. Guards out front, lots of parking for the Toyota SUV's that the moneyfolk prefer, multistory structures. They are prospering.
One of the most ubiquitous institutions I've noticed are "micro-credit" banks. That might account for why there are so many small businesses. How many make money I can't tell, but everyone seems to have a business even if it is simply running up and down the highways touting bags of peanuts or sandals. Dakar, by contrast was a city of idleness with most young men either playing soccer or lounging in the sun. In Accra everyone seems to have a function. You can see the influence of the ministers.
"Believe in Yourself"; "It Takes Willpower to Succeed"; "You Can Overcome Those Obstacles". You see this stuff on Tshirts, billboards and graffiti.

Wednesday, July 3 Accra

I left my hostel in the suburbs Monday morning and seemingly left the only reliable wifi access in all of Accra. At least I haven't been able to find a hotel with such, hence my uncommunicativeness of late. I did find a large internet cafe which is my present location. I'll try to update my activities here as I'm not sure when I'll have internet again.
I motored from Darkuman, the northern suburb, to downtown Accra via a tro-tro. No problems there. They forgave me for my bulky backpack. I offered to pay for two places but was refused. The van deposited us in a huge tro-tro park in central Accra. Since it is used by poor people it was, of course, in the bottoms, the lowest piece of land in that part of the city. There were hundreds of vans there. I couldn't figure out how they exited the place once they got the requisite 14+ passengers. I didn't stick around for a demonstration. I saw one woman from our van quickly moving away from the tro-tro so I figured she knew where the exit was in this vast maze. I was right, though I almost lost sight of her a couple times. With some polite shoving and pushing I kept track of her and she led me to a major street.
Since Accra has very few street signs I was now lost. I followed the road to another main street. Left or right? My sense told me right, so that's where I headed with my cumbersome backpack weighing me down. I saw some big buildings in the distance and decided to use them as a landmark. Then, Voila, I came to a juncture with two street signs. I dug in for my Lonely Planet map and to my great glee realized I now knew where I was. I also had, from the LP listings, an area with several budget hotels (but no hostels, alas). Off I went in search of that neighborhood.
The weather was humid, of course, but overcast, the temperatures not overly enervating. It took me about 25 minutes to navigate to my target area by stopping periodically to refer to my LP map. When I got near I stopped for a Sprite from a little girl manning a streetside stall. I was well satisfied with myself and my navigational skills.
I then spent 45 minutes wandering fruitlessly in search of the two hotels that seemed, from the guide, to best suit my needs (i.e. wifi). I asked passers-by for directions but, strangely, no one seemed to know the names. (Korkdam Hotel; Lemon Drop). My legs were aching. I longed for a chance to rest.
Then someone recognized the names and pointed me in the proper direction (two blocks ahead, then bear left, ignore two side streets keeping straight). Happy was I when I saw the Burkina Faso embassy ahead, which I knew to be contiguous with the two hotels.
But they weren't there. A cab driver was washing his car right in front of where the hotels should have been. I inquired of him. He never heard of the places. A cab driver! There were two guys standing in front of the embassy. I decided to take the chance that they wouldn't shoot me (don't guys in front of embassies always have guns?); I asked them about the missing lodging.
"Korkdam...no here anymore."
"Lemon Drop? no more."
"Ampax Hotel for you," one said.
That hurt. I'd passed the Ampax (and almost stopped--but they didn't list wifi) 40 minutes before. They gave me directions and I found the hotel quickly. $27.50/night, almost three times what I paid in Darkuman. But I paid for two nights.

The "welcome" mat at the embassy of Cote D'Ivoire is backwards, almost saying "you are welcome to leave". Fitting. The paperwork needed to get into Ivory Coast took me hours to prepare. Among other things I needed to find an internet cafe to pay the hundred dollars required for entry. I also needed a confirmed hotel reservation.(it took me two hours to find this place) Turns out there are no hotels in Abidjan under $100/night. What to do? Should I give up the trip and stay in Ghana for my entire journey?
Then, just as I was about to give up I found a place a half hour south of the city for $44/night. I booked it and raced back to the embassy. I didn't realize when I walked in that visas were only processed before noon (it was now 2pm). My ignorance paid off because the lady in the tiny window must have liked me (I can be charming at times). In 45 minutes they'd taken my photo and fingerprinted me and generally treated me like a former revolutionary revisiting my homeland.
"Come back on Thursday for your visa," she told me.

Today I moved to a new hotel, not really better than the Ampax but half the price. With internet access I managed to make a reservation for July10 at someplace up the coast that sounds great. That gives me a week to travel 100 km or so. After I pick up my visa tomorrow I'll sleep in Accra then head off for the north coast.

Sunday, June 30 Accra

We've had power outages at random times which have thwarted my posting. Today, in the intensely Christian nation, everything is closed, so I've spent the day doing laundry and reading. Most of my hostelmates have fled northeast to a festival. Tomorrow is a national holiday, Republic Day. I plan to move my location down to downtown Accra (this place is in the suburbs) tomorrow. Then on Tuesday morning, the first business day of the week I'll see if I can get a Cote D'Ivoire visa. If that is possible then I'll be obliged to stick around Accra for a few days while they process my application. In the larger picture these two lost days won't matter but for now I'm very impatient to get on the road.

Someone once propagated plants here. 

Yesterday I spent several hours exploring Ghana University. I was most interested in the Botanical Garden. The university is expansive, maybe too big. Why centralize all public education in one place? Why not put some of the schools about the city? The area around the school is surprisingly infertile to commercial activity, unlike most other university towns I've visited. There was one modern, nearly empty supermarket across the main highway. Other than that there wasn't much.

I stood outside one of these lecture halls and tried to listen but all I really saw was some kind of supply-demand curve on the blackboard. How the students in the back could hear or see anything is beyond me. The students mostly looked like students anywhere, bemused, moderately attentive, eager for a diversion (like the white guy hanging around outside)

A long-neglected potting shed. Someone undoubtedly removed the glass  long ago. 

The botanic gardens, I read in my Lonely Planet guide, are neglected. And they are. Some of the decaying buildings bore the name of the university botany department but my sense is that no botanist has been in the gardens in years. A terrible shame. Reminds me of the gardens in Yerevan, Armenia. Same thing. In Armenia they had the excuse that the gardens were a remnant of Soviet leadership and thus tainted. Since I was at the school on Saturday I didn't meet up with any professors and couldn't find out why the gardens are ignored.

Students are the same everywhere. A sign on a university building. 

The gardens are fairly large, perhaps tens of acres, though I saw only a handful of people in the park, mostly congregated near an entrance adjoining a major thoroughfare. I sometimes wish I could get a job as savior for the world's botanical spaces. I bet there are many. For a couple hundred thousand dollars you could bequeath a treasure to future generations.

Friday, June 28 Accra

I couldn't sleep last night for no apparent reason. I wasn't ill. The weather was quite cool. I just couldn't sleep. So I spent today around the hostel on the internet or reading my book. Nothing of consequence to relate. A nice, lost day.

a small photo essay about Accra, June 27

One of the innumerable Christian billboards. I'd say 10% of Accra is Muslim, the rest in-your-face Christianity.

I took about 20 pictures but only half of those somehow made it so I can't provide much here. But it's a start:

in

No problem buying booze in Accra. 

This sign would not be out of place anywhere in the States.

Local fashion.

More Christian advertising.

Half the buildings (those that can be called buildings) are unfinished. I've seen dozens like this. 

Thursday, June 27 Accra

It's fitting that I have no photos of Accra yet (I'll try to remedy that in a few hours) since I learned a bit about life in Accra yesterday.
1. Power failures are a regular part of life. We had one last night that started at 7:15 and ended around 10:30 pm. For me it was a wonderful bit of serendipity. With nothing else to do the four current residents of the Crystal Hostel sat around a table and talked for three hours. We have a Canadian and a Dutchman, and an American, all males--not counting me--staying here. We have another, female, resident, a Brit, but she is in Holland doing an interview for a PhD program today. {Did you know that all university lectures in Holland are done in English?}She returns tomorrow. We also have a party of 24 arriving tomorrow. I'm looking forward to that.
Topics of discussion included a)the prospects of Edward Snowden; b) marijuana laws in Holland vs. the U.S.; c) a primer--for the benefit of non-Yanks--on Edward Kennedy and his pivotal role on the Supreme Court; d) European university shopping. Did you know that Istanbul attracts a significant number of European students due to low costs?

2. Traffic in Accra sometimes seems to come to a complete halt throughout the city, or at least as far as the eye can see. I witnessed that last night while I searched for food. The main drag near our hostel was at a standstill for as long as I was there. One of our guests said it took him 90 minutes to navigate from the airport to here, a distance of about two miles.

3. Accra people are incredibly kind. Everywhere I've gone so far I've had people spontaneously stop me to explain things to me. Last night I tried to buy a meal. Before I even got the words out a young girl stopped me to inquire what I needed. When I said, "rice and beans", she patiently explained that the place in front of me had no rice but that if I followed her she'd show me a place better stocked, which she did. I had a bagful (they put it in small plastic bags for take out) of rice, salad, and some kind of green stuff that looked like spinach (but probably wasn't). Due to the power failure I couldn't really see what I was eating, but it tasted good.

I slept past 10 this morning. I'm resolved that today will be a transition day, that I'm not obliged to go anywhere or do anything. I need to write my column for San Leandro Patch and I have a book to read (Nikola Tesla:  My Inventions and Other Writings). I'll probably go for a brief walk to take some photos. Otherwise ain't much happenin'.

4pm: now I have a couple photos, taken from the roof of our hostel:

Accra grows laterally, adding tarpaper shacks as needed. I wonder who "owns" this land?

 I should add that we spent some time last night talking about sewage in Accra. One of our tenants is a Canadian working on a water treatment facility. He noted that that the work proceeds at a glacial pace. But what was most interesting is that the facility (state of the art) is hooked up to only two places, a school and another public building. No way has been devised to get private residences or businesses to join since it would cost them money. It looks as if Accra will have a modern treatment plant that treats very little.

Wednesday, June 26, Accra

How many hours did I travel? I've lost track. I'm not even certain I have the day correct. I'm in a hostel in Accra, a clean, walled compound. I'm too tired to write much for now. I left New York at 9am on Tuesday and here I am at 9am a day later, but I think the time difference is 4 hours, so it took me about 20 hours to get here. I'll post more later today.

I got some sleep and now can start to think about what I've observed. Accra, not surprisingly, reminds me of Dakar up the coast. When we landed, before dawn, I was shocked to see the physical extent of the city, endless lights off to the horizon, one of the many urban sprawls that populate the Third World. The cab ride from the airport to my hostel revealed a swirling, thrashing mob of humanity all seemingly in competition to survive. Everyone demands money; there is no relaxed commerce in Accra. Driving is a blood sport with little quarter given by anyone. Not much different from Los Angeles, I guess, but here we're competing for life not just to get the best manicure.
I'm beginning to realize why I liked Zimbabwe so much. There a third of the population has migrated south to South Africa for opportunities not available at home. That leaves a less crowded, less hectic nation behind. In Ghana there is no such release valve. You make it here or you starve.