Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Boats, Prisons and More of Accra

[No excuse for not having posted this earlier. It dates back to December.] Ghana’s apparent lack of heritage management in hot and humid Jamestown is kind of sad, but the by-product is that you get to construct your own tour, with the help (or lack of help) from whichever self-appointed tour guides who happen to cross your path. We started at the 19th century lighthouse where, for some obscure reason, photography from the outside is prohibited. I climbed up the now-rickety hardwood spiral steps for the view of the dilapidated sprawl below.


We spent the next hour weaving between muscular fishermen and their boats on the much-more-vibrant shoreline. The boats are extraordinary: the hulls are single pieces carved from entire tree trunks. The biggest was perhaps 15 metres long and over a metre in diameter. I repeatedly marveled at the size that these trees must have been, but I was informed that ‘in the village’ there were many such specimens.
The boats are lovingly carved and painted on the outside: ‘There is Hope’ ‘Feed Your Self’ ‘God is Good’ ‘God is Able’ ‘God is Love’ ‘Thanks to God’ And others less godly: ‘Chelsea’, ‘Obama’, and more.




We continued to the Jamestown Fort Prison – a former slave house, and then prison until apparently just a decade ago. It is now empty and virtually none of its history captured for visitors. We found a lone 'guard' sleeping on a table near the entrance, which is about as much security as is needed nowadays, it seems. Said guard insisted that I part with about 7 dollars in exchange for temporarily interrupting his siesta, after which he resumed his pressing REM duties.


Notable prisoners include Nkrumah, and his cell is clearly marked. There are improvised hand-crafted hangers bound to the high-window bars and draping down the walls in a macabre fashion, on which the prisoners used to hang their food and other items, given space constraints and hygiene in the cells. The men’s and women’s sections were divided, and the women afforded better conditions, it seems.



Next on the cards was Makola Market which in this pre-Christmas period on a Saturday, was just completely crazy. We sat for ages in the traffic. Densely packed with people, goods, traders, and cars, it was quite something to behold. I bought fabric, some Ghanaian music (Daddy Lumba) recommended by my driver, and a fabulous collection of glass-bead bracelets and necklaces.



The penultimate stop of the day was the National Museum, another example of apparently no heritage management in years. Nevertheless, I enjoyed what it had to offer. Ghana’s material culture is incredibly rich: beautiful handwoven and printed fabrics each carrying a message and a name; carved wooden ceremonial masks and stools…not to mention a necklace made of some one hundred human teeth (molars, no less) from Congo which won my prize for the most eye-catching jewellery. We rounded my sightseeing with a quick stop on Osu ‘Oxford’ Street, before finally tucking into a much-needed meal of fried plantain, chicken, rice and fish stew at a suitably local joint.