Time Machine

I promised I would fill you in on stuff from the last couple of months (in chronological order this time!), so here’s a start. It’s funny (or apt, or convenient or all of the above) that the first weekend I need to recap shared almost the exact same itinerary as this past weekend. Not much happened during the two weeks following our trip to Togo, except for a series of unscheduled blackouts, and Yom Kippur (which, apart from a contemplative morning walk, was mostly spent reading Harry Potter; almost definitely not the fast that God has commanded, but about all I could manage in the absence of other Jews). The last weekend in September, however, Kevin had arranged to travel to Accra and spend some time out at Buduburam, where he wanted to make a documentary about the basketball court out there. Me being me, I decided we ought to turn our camp excursion into a full weekend away. And so, a plan was born: Kevin, Mia and I would head out to Buduburam Saturday morning, and after a few hours out there travel a short distance back toward Accra to spend the rest of the weekend on the beach at Kokrobite, spending the night at a backpacker’s hangout known as Big Milly’s Backyard.

To Go To Togo

(Other titles considered for this post include: Togo A Go Go, O! Got Togo? (a palindrome!), and a bunch of lame options I’m not going to share. This is my blog. I don’t have to tell you anything I don’t want to.)

Last weekend I went to Togo with Mia, my Swedish UNHCR-intern neighbour, and Kevin, my fellow Ghana-based JHR compatriot. There are lots of good reasons to go to Togo. Ours wasn’t necessarily one of them.

Digging up the Dirt on Ghana’s Gold Mines

On Monday afternoon, my boss sat next to me as I worked on the sofa in our office (picking up wireless from the house next door on my laptop), and asked “So, do you still want to go to Tarkwa?”

“Still” wasn’t quite the right word, since I had entirely forgotten about the trip to Tarkwa, it hadn’t come up in about a week, and it had been a busy week. He had first mentioned it to me during my first week, a trip to this Western Region town for “some human rights thing.” He had never gone into more detail, so though I had gotten as far as figuring that it would be related to the mining that goes on all around there, I had no idea whether this was a story assignment, a press conference, or what.

On Monday, he handed me a two page document explaining what the trip was about: A four-day workshop on mining and human rights in Ghana for 60 journalists and stakeholders, hosted by the Wassa Association for Communities Affected by Mining (WACAM).

Ada Adventure

No sooner had I returned from Takoradi, then I was bombarded with invitations to travel for the following weekend. Well, not bombarded, but I did have two. Mark was planning on meeting Doug in Cape Coast for the weekend, and they invited me and Kevin to join them. Feeling exhausted from just having traveled, I was leaning away from the idea. Then, KK invited me to join her and her uncle in the town of Ada, at the mouth of the Volta estuary, to check out their major annual festival, Asafotufiam. Beyond being a more once-in-a-lifetime offer (Cape Coast isn’t going anywhere after all), KK’s invitation appealed to me because she was only going for Friday night and Saturday, so I would still be able to recoup at home on Sunday.

The logistics were a little tricky, though, as KK was going to take Friday off work and leave for Ada around 10 that morning. Having been out of the office two days already that week (and it only being my second week), I didn’t think that was a politic option. Luckily, I discussed the matter with Mark, who told me I could easily catch a trotro to Ada and meet KK there that evening. I asked permission to leave a little early on Friday, and our plan was set.

Takoradi Trip

The day after I started at GO, a bunch of JHR folks took off for Kumasi, Ghana’s second largest city, to run a workshop for journalists there. Because I’d just started at work, I didn’t go with them, but I jumped on the chance this week to go to Takoradi for another workshop (and a chance to see Kevin’s new digs).

I had originally planned on going down Saturday morning, but some miscommunication between myself and Joseph resulted in it getting too late for me to leave and still arrive at a reasonable time. I was miffed at the delay, but it ended up for the best, as Kevin and Doug actually had some drama of their own to deal with that day. Their landlady’s daughter, who lives in their house rent free in exchange for laundering and cooking services, was arrested that day for hiring someone to beat up a neighbour as part of a dispute over a plantain tree. They ended up making a few trips to the police station, and I’m sure were glad they didn’t have a guest on their hands as well.