Ghana be... fun

Koforidua

This week has seen more travel, and true to form there have been some of the usual trials and tribulations to test patience and ingenuity.  The only difference was, this time I was traveling with 46 Grade 6’s, and luckily five fantastic chaperones. 

The weather at the minute appears to have two settings: HOT, HOT, HOT or WET, WET, WET and over this trip we had both in equal measure.  Torrential downpours, thunder and lightening, and bright blue skies, vivid colors and scorching Africa temperatures, unfortunately the rain the and lightening came at a time when we were all supposed to be outside at the famous bead market- so that was one place I didn’t get to go to, and I will have to head back to at a future date.

The first stop was at a Government School in Mampong.  We were to meet with their Grade 6 students, the age at which compulsory schooling ends in Ghana, and swap experiences.  The students at this school treated us to some amazing drumming and traditional dancing, these were highly talented students; we were also treated to some poetry recitals and a tour of the school.  I only wish I had had the confidence to get up and put on a performance like these twelve year olds did when I was their age.  What I found fascinating was the tour of the school.  Each grade was taught all together in a single classroom, desks in rows and sentences to learn written on the board.  Each child stood to answer a question and all stood as we entered the room en mass.  To me it all seemed very traditional, and all students from the youngest to the oldest followed these rules.  I think maybe the most bewildering feature (for anyone who has taught in a British School) was the school uniform.  It was uniform.  All shirts were tucked in, all the time, all skirts/ shorts were of knee length and everyone managed to wear every piece of clothing exactly were it was meant to be worn.  It really was an impressive feat. 

Koforidua is the capital of the Eastern Region in Ghana and was founded in 1875 by the Ashanti who were moving south due to tribal divisions.  It was at one time the largest cocoa producing area in Ghana and it is still the oldest area, still producing cocoa today.  (See, I was listening the Chief’s talk).  It is also home to the Cocoa Research Institute of Ghana- another stop on our tour.

As the Ashanti have strong connections here one activity that we had planned to do was to visit the Shrine of the Ashanti Priest.  Unfortunately he died just before we arrived, which from a selfish point of view threw the trip planning into a little bit of disarray as an alternative activity was found.  (No, I did not have this eventuality written into my plan or my risk assessment.  I see that this was an oversight on my part and as such it won't happen again.)  Luckily we had the CRIG to visit instead.  I have absolutely no idea how these priests are chosen, and how the tradition is passed on, this is something I will have to research as I am actually interested and more than a little disappointed that we couldn’t visit.  However, this did not seem like the time to call and ask for more information.

 

Again, I was paying attention to the talk that we were given and it turns out the CRIG was first established in 1938, and continued when Ghana got independence in 1957 and then as Nigeria followed in 1960 they continued to work together to ensure that the quality of cocoa was high, and the diseases common to the plant were under control.  All of this is good news, as Ghana and the Koforidua region continue to supply Nestle and Kraft who happen to be two of my favorite food manufacturing companies.

Next up was the Chief’s Palace- and this is where I managed to glean a lot of the facts and dates I have mentioned.  Despite careful explanation I am still mot sure I totally understand the succession rules.  It is passed down thru the maternal line, but only a man may sit on the stool and reign as chief.  So rather than pass from father to son, as far as I can understand it, it passes from uncle to nephew.   

The other main stop on the trip was Boti Falls, the Three Headed Palm Tree and Umbrella Rock.  Umbrella Rock is a precariously balanced outcrop of stone that brings good luck to anyone who climbs up it and writes their name on the overhang… my good luck came from the fact that none of the 46 students I had with me fell, tripped, banged heads or any such other disaster that I worried about happening (and yes, all of that had been written into my risk assessment).

This was followed by the Three Headed Palm tree; usually- I am reliably informed- palm tress grow with just one shoot, this one starts with one trunk and then splits into three, and it is all totally a natural phenomena- no cross breeding, no genetic manipulation, just magic (and Voodoo is still practiced here).  This palm tree has a huge base, each stem is about 70 cms in diameter and all have lush green leaves and coconuts.  It is said that if you sit on the tree you will give birth to twins, a good reason to avoid lingering too long here!

The final part of this hike was Boti Falls, a waterfall of 150 feet high and located on the Ponpon River.  Again this was a lush green area, and because the dry season is ending the pool and the waterfall are very dry.  However, the tourist authorities are working on developing this site and making it more accessible, they have built in roads and tracks rather than just hiking routes, and they have built a 250 step staircase down to the bottom of the waterfall.  This does seem to make it safer and easier to navigate – even if the steps are uneven and have varying depths.  If you visit at the right time of the year then there are two water flows that merge here creating a rainbow.  However, at this time there wasn’t enough water to see this.

This week also a quick note- some of the images (Umbrella Rock and the Three Headed Palm) come from Google as my photos all have students in.

Ghana be in... Hannover

A change is as good as a rest

There were definitely a few changes to contend with this week, a change in location- I was in Hannover, Germany for work, and a significant change in temperature.  When I boarded the plane in Accra it was a warm and sultry 33C when I landed in Hannover I was greeted by the pilot with the local time and the news that is was a crisp -3C.  That is not crisp, that is cold!  I had intended to take a tram from the airport to the center of Hannover, my initial thinking was “how European, how quaint and how romantic” it swiftly changed, to how cold is this?!  Followed by ”Taxi!”

Really, I should start with the airport, as it was here that most of the action started.  I had a leisurely 1 hour 45 minute connection through Schiphol Amsterdam.  This being the case I quite casually browsed the shops, sat down and had a Starbucks- a very big deal if you live in Ghana and have been without your daily fix since July, before setting off to board my flight with a nice 30 minutes to go.

It was at this point that I realized to my shock and horror that I had left my work laptop somewhere.  I had a brief moment of panic when I wasn’t sure whether to be happy that it wasn’t my own laptop that was missing, or mortified that I would have to spend the next five days without my work laptop and then have to explain to them that not only had I not kept in contact, answered email, or completed any of the work I had been intending to do, but I would also have to admit to having lost it… unless I could bribe a police officer at Accra airport to… no, that was far too much hassle.   So, feeling alternately cold and clammy and hot and sticky I did a mental run thru my last known actions with the laptop.  I know I had it on the plane, I had take it out of my bag in order to get to my passport, I had put it on my seat, stood up and walked away, thereby leaving it still on my seat.

This was a start.  At least I knew where I had to begin looking, unfortunately it was now about 25 minutes until boarding and it was just the start of the trouble I was about to experience.  At this point I should probably mention that I was flying with KLM and they were amazing, totally fantastic and I will be using them again in a few weeks- not only because I dislike BA intensely (which is generally true) but also because based on this experience I have decided KLM are the current front runners for this year’s “Favorite Airline Award”.  (For those who care, or follow my airline updates the 2011 winner was Air Namibia- the surprising late entry.) Back on topic- KLM with their amazing helpfulness managed to track my laptop down and tell me where is was- a lady named Alice at Transfer Point 6 was in possession on if and she would gladly hand it over if I could get myself to her.  Easy, I thought.  I can make the 15-minute dash between terminals, and clamber backwards thru immigration and bag check.  After all- the 15 minute is only a guide, and it is meant for people who walk; slowly, with strollers and shopping and need assistance to board a plane.  So I set off.

It is true, if you run flat out with little regard for your own safety, or that of those around, if you don’t mind that people like you join a queue from the back, it you ignore the shouts of immigration telling you your passport has no pages left and needs replacing, and if you spout gabbled messages at the people telling you your gate is in another terminal you can indeed make the 15 minute terminal transfer in about 8 minutes and some seconds.  I found Transfer Point 6, I met Alice (well I barged my way thru another queue and interrupted another customer, for which I am sorry) and managed to secure the laptop!  Disaster one averted.  I no longer had to make up a story about being mugged and forced to surrender the laptop despite putting up a brave fight whilst yelling about the poor children and their disrupted learning. The problem was I still had to make it back… and this time I had security checks.

So, back thru the airport I head- once again at top running speed, good job I was wearing my sneakers, but this time trying to balance a computer under one arm.  Now Schiphol has a special lane at passport control for idiots like me, who for whatever reasons have to make a ridiculously fast trip between terminals so I was ready to push and shove to the front of the queue again.  Turns out if you are willing to join the wrong queue you don’t have to- so off I went straight to the front of the line- for those people visiting who do not hold EU passports and need visas to be validated.  After a short talking to about the fact I was in the wrong line and my passport was possibly not really valid or travel, (a difference of opinion we still have) I managed to huff, puff and gesture my way thru my predicament and get onto the next stage in record time.  (Incidentally, his opinion may also be the correct one- it was not so much that my passport wasn’t valid, or was expired- just that I was out of pages and therefore could no longer have visas/ visa waivers added- I have applied for a new one, which is a whole other story in itself and will no doubt appear here in a few weeks.)

The next challenge was the security line, and there were no short cuts to be taken here- so with time ticking down I placed my shoes, sweater, belt and laptop on the belt, emptied the entire contents of my purse into a bowl and calmly walked thru the metal detector.  I was still a good six minutes from my gate at this point and down to 12 minutes before the flight was ready to depart so grabbing all my belongings I took off across the airport, in my socks.  Shoes in one hand, sweater and belt in the other, bag hung on my elbow and laptop tucked under my arm.  How I wasn’t arrested I don’t know.  There is a strong chance I was looking a little too scary and deranged.  Anyway, six minutes of insanity later I arrived back at my gate, looking more than a little disheveled. 

KLM again distinguished themselves in the customer service department and told me to take two minutes to get redressed and freshen up before getting the bus out to the plane.  I have o excuse for what happened next, other than I was rushed, flustered and the Dutch take European liberalism to an extreme.  I even thought how odd it was in my head as I walked into the bathroom, that they didn’t have a sign for “ladies” but that they had marked “baby changing facilities”.  Which is how I found myself half dressed and in a cubicle thinking, “that is a rather deep voice I can hear outside… and another one…” at which point I realized that not only was that my name being called over the tannoy but that I was in the men’s bathroom.  It was another one of those icy cold, while being hot and clammy moments- what should I do?  I can’t sit here and wait while my name is being called… on the other hand it will take them a while to off load my bags and the men have to leave at some point… again the thought of phoning work and telling them that actually I wasn’t in Hannover won over the embarrassment of leaving the bathroom.  So, with most of my clothes back in place, I walked out of the bathroom stall, said a cheery good morning to the men who were quite literally going about their business and presented myself at the gate, just in time to be told the bus would take me out to the plane.

If only I had given this situation a few minutes more of thought and tied my laces (remember the sneakers?) before leaving the bathroom.  Maybe then the whole incident would not have ended with me tripping over my laces and sending five perfectly pleasant men flying to the floor, briefcases busting open around them.  All I can say is I am sorry.  I would say that at least in retrospect you can laugh, but even at the time I had tears running down my checks at the entire saga; and all of this before 8:30am.

So, by 9:30am I was happily checked into a hotel in Hannover and more happily checking out the old town and the shops.  The only trouble with traveling from Accra is that every flight I have ever taken is an overnight flight.  In fact I have my doubts as to whether the airport here is even open between the hours of Midnight and 3:00pm.  I have never known a flight that doesn’t land between 3:00pm and 9:00pm or leave between 9:30pm and 11:00pm.  All of which makes for a really busy airport for a very short space of time.  In fact, on my return journey there were four big, international flights landing within 20 minutes of each other- great news for Ghana, not so great news when you are at the back of the 800 or so passengers and crew with only six people working immigration.  Anyway, briefly back to Hannover- I didn’t have to check in for work until the afternoon, and with a hotel room I couldn’t use until 2.00pm I decided to head the shops and restaurants to keep out of the chill- I was already sporting a cold and sneezing away quite happily.  The blue skies made for a pretty backdrop as I headed out for breakfast, and bravely found a hairdresser who spoke very odd English.  Consequently, I have caught the pony and had steps- or had my bangs trimmed and still got layers.  I was a little concerned when he started hacking great chunks out of the back with thinning scissors, but once he had started cutting it, it seemed a little late to yell, “STOP!”  It also looks quite good once I got home and managed to get the straightening irons to work again!  After all the airport disasters, I had plugged my straightening irons into the adapter plug and blown the fuse, meaning I couldn’t charge my laptop to use it anyway.

The remaining time in Hannover went without a hitch.  I was introduced to the art of knitting graffiti, my new and slightly unique idea for the trip- carried out by OAPs who want to draw attention to- something, I forget the message behind it, but it made me giggle. The town was very old and picturesque, I woke on the Friday morning to a beautiful cover of snow, just enough to make everything look picture perfect, it was all very Hans Christian Anderson (I know- wrong country) as I headed out past a small copse near the road and saw a family of dear standing in the snow and grazing.  I was waiting for Red Riding Hood to appear from the side of the wood with a wolf and a woodcutter in hot pursuit.  In the evenings I ate some amazing food, and found some great marzipan treats to bring back.  All in all a fantastic trip.