I arrived in Cape Coast on Thursday night after about 5 hours of travel in a tro tro. It was not really THAT far, I think around 150 km from accra, but there was the usual traffic to be battled. The place we stayed, OASIS, was right on the water and we had our own cabana with running shower -- quite frankly it felt like a honeymoon suite particularly if one can use a little imagination and dream the mosquito netting into a bed canopy. the beach, which was audible AND visible from bed was a bustle of fishing activity. John went swimming, but I wasn't as brave. The dead dog that washed up on shore made up my mind for me rather quickly.
As far as the city of cape coast itself, I wasn't overly enthralled with it. I woke up early Friday morning (6:30am) to enjoy the beach. Then I walked the town. I saw remnants of the old city in Santo Domingo albeit an unrestored version. The looming buildings were neither trendy nor symbols of modern-day wealth, but utilitarian.
It wasn't just the colonial infrastructure that gave Cape Coast a very different vibe than Accra or Teshie/Nungua (where I have been living), but the locals we met seem to have been shaped and molded by the endless influx of tourists to see Cape Coast Castle. We were hassled, I mean REALLY hassled, everywhere we went from the hotel to the castle to the restaurant along the shore. John used a rather hilarious and emphatic NO! which usually drew a smile from it's victim, while dually freeing us from the heckling. We also caught glimpses of the sex tourism that seems to draw itself into beautiful beachy places, but the most notable of sights was definitely the castle.
It is hard to find the appropriate words to describe Cape Coast Castle, and it was even more challenging for me to comprehend the scope of the atrocities committed there. The castle was originally set up for the trade of goods by the British, but this changed when the trans-atlantic slave trade proved to be a more profitable pursuit. It is important to note, however, that the trade of human slaves existed long before the Europeans arrived to extract the natural resources from West Africa; the colonial powers introduced the trade of humans across the sea. And while colonists, particularly the governors, committed crimes against humanity that are absolutely unimaginable, there was also a network of local powers that served as accomplices in the exportation of their fellow West Africans.
The most powerful reminder of what happened here at Cape Castle is no doubt the slave dungeons. Our group of 30 stood in some of the rooms together. We filled nearly half of one room that is alleged to have held between 250 and 300 male slaves at a given time. The only access to air and light came from three small holes in the ceiling. The tour guide pointed out a mark on the wall about two feet from the floor, demarcating where the floor had risen due to human waste, blood and bones. The slaves were kept in these dungeons for three months, the same length of time for the journey to the Americas. The Europeans used the dungeons to separate the weak from the strong. Many of those that survived the dungeons, were subjected to even worse conditions on the boat, and ultimately met their deaths en route to the Americas...
The symbolic "Door of No Return," leading out to the sea has now been marked on the outside with a sign for the "Door of Return" to symbolize the re-engagement between African-americans, -caribenos, and -brasileiros and their African roots. The castle itself is a UNESCO World Heritage site and is extremely well kept (it could also be that it was cleaned up for Barak and Michelle's visit a few weeks ago). I felt disconnected while I was in and around Cape Castle. Something about the shiny white walls and absence of personal slave stories left me wanting more information and feeling so very far away from the actual history of the place in which I stood. I suppose I may have found this information in the Museum, but unfortunately it was closed.
On Saturday we headed to Elmina, a town about 15 km away from Cape Coast. The fort there was built in the 1480s by the Portuguese (hence the original name of Cape Coast as capo corso meaning short cape), but by mid 17th century it had been captured by the Dutch. Elmina was nothing short of haunting. The walls are falling down, the smell of immonia and fermentation is almost overwhelming, and the stories of what the women slaves were forced to endure struck a nerve.
Our first stop was to the women's dungeon. Our tour guide explained how the governor's quarters overlooked the courtyard in the middle of the dungeons. He instructed us in how the governor would stand above and pick out the women he wanted to rape. The women entered his large quarters through a trap door connected to the dungeons. It is nauseating to even try to imagine having to choose between a public caning, naked, while lifting cannon balls in the courtyard or the alternative raping by the governor. It is equally difficult to understand the mindset of the governor who slept peacefully in his 3-room penthouse with a perfect view of the sea above a room stuffed with hundreds of naked women, any of which he could have whenever he wanted. It is hard to see the humanity in either side of the situation.
We also learned that mothers who became impregnated from the raping were separated from the others, and the children were oftentimes separated from the mothers who were returned to the dungeons after childbirth. Formal education got its start here in the slave castles, because the colonizers wanted to educate their mulatto children. No one knows, however, how many children never made it that far as many mothers would kill their babies in the ultimate act of motherly love and protection. The castle at Elmina was powerful. Throughout the remainder of the weekend, I found our conversations peppered with questions about race, development, Ghanaian culture and what exactly was our role in any of it.
Saturday night we said goodbye to John (who was headed to INDIA!!!) and headed to Amenyi to meet a few girls we had met the night before in Cape Coast. We went to a tiny guesthouse off the beaten path said to be a "self-sustainable, eco-village." It had changed ownership since the writing of the guidebook, but was still a welcome haven to offset the heavy historical sight-seeing. Ko-Sa Cultural Center is undoubtedly a must for anyone traveling to Ghana. I would recommend travelers to see the castles at both Elmina and Cape Coast in the daytime, and to stay at Ko-Sa even though it is about an hour in transit outside of Elmina. The food, cabanas, and serene beach were like nothing I have experienced yet in Ghana and at the mere price of $7 per night you cannot go wrong. We even treated ourselves to a bottle of MALBEC with dinner.
We returned Sunday night late; naturally we misjudged how long it would take us to get home. I was supposed to move for the third time, but by the time I got home, I just couldn't muster the energy.
Monday I moved into OSU in Accra. It is a touristy, westernized neighborhood, but it is centrally located and I can walk anywhere I need to go. I am living in a house which is part of a compound. I love with three other americans (two go to the U of M!!!) and a cuban guy. The house is nice with a kitchen, running water, a 24-hour security man and lots and lots of cockroach friends :) I have my own room and fan with a luxurious cross breeze. The freedom of living on my own without an 8pm curfew and little kids climbing all over me at the end of the day is welcome, but I am very grateful for what my host families taught and shared with me over the past month in regards to life in Ghana. The graciousness and hospitality of all has been truly remarkable. I already feel a little bit lonely without them.
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