Bryce and I woke up at 5:50 am, and were at the truck by six. Kate and Jessica joined us shortly after, then we piled into the back with our bags and rushed off into the morning traffic of Accra.
Accra is overwhelming; sight, smell, and sound, all in a wave, too much to really process. The roads are clogged with people on foot, bicycle, and motorbikes, along with cars, busses, and trucks, all surrounded by hawkers and beggars. Not to mention chickens, goats, stray dogs, cows, and the like. The way to announce your presence to others on the road is to honk repeatedly until everyone knows exactly where you are.
There is no such thing as an individual sound in Accra; just one congealed mass of noise. In any instant you will hear cars honking-motorcycles roaring-engines sputtering-women singing-babies screaming-children laughing-hawkers shouting-goats baaing-sheep bleating-chickens clucking-dogs barking-radios playing-all rolled into one furious transcendent roar. It’s more awe-inspiring than anything.
The smell is another story: mildew, smog, dust, feces, urine, burning garbage, too many people, dirty water, sewage. It smells so bad, it tastes sour. It was not too bad at the hotel, with the sea breeze coming in off the Atlantic, but a block away in the back of the truck, it hit me like a wall.
We pulled into the bus station early, and grabbed egg sandwiches at the bus depot which were pretty good. There were some adorable little kittens in the diner, eating the roaches off the walls. When we got back and climbed aboard the bus we were pleasantly surprised by the general good shape of the thing, and the blessed presence of air conditioning throughout. I was sad to leave Accra so soon, but excited to finally see the North.
At eight we rolled out of the depot and through Accra. It took us about an hour to get out of the city, in a cloud of dust. I still have no idea how big Accra is, because it just sort of peters out, after wrapping around hills and through the Southern jungles. The trees there are towering things, with smooth grey trunks up seventy-five or one hundred feet before spreading into a wide green canopy. The bigger one sheltered entire shanty-towns in their broad shade.
The architecture was fascinating, mostly due to an apparent lack of any guiding principles. Block, mud, brick, mud brick, concrete, metal, glass, wood, bamboo, and millet stalks all seemed equally acceptable and used. Usually, one material dominated, but sometimes there were combinations, but not always. Expansions were often in the process of being built of completely different material from the others. For example, a bamboo second story on a cinder block first, or, just as ok by local convention, a cinderblock second story on to of a bamboo first. It’s all good in Ghana.
The advertisements along the road were works of art. Billboards are amateur hour here. If you want to sell your product, you paint your logo several times on every standing structure visible from the street for a city block or two.
The bus ride itself was an adventure where we slept when we could, and the bus stopped every three hours or so for food, water, and a break. Not to mention some totally sketchy food. The bathrooms were spotlessly clean, fancy, and pay-to-pee.
I could write a book describing the bus trip, and all the things we saw, but suffice to say it would be pointless, because some experiences are empty when put into words.
I will say a word about Ghanaian travel movies, though! Oh, wow! The stories are basically soap opera-ish, with terrible sound editing. It will drop down to near silence, too quiet to make out the dialogue, then, you will jerked from sleep by a blood curdling scream as the heroine is stuck by a car and paralyzed—don’t worry though, she’ll be struck by lightning and healed in time to tell the girl who’s stealing her husband.
“She will rot in Hell.”
“Yes, she will rot in Hell.”
All the vendors work out these metal crates, sort of half shipping containers, labeled Zain. No idea what Zain is. I’ve got to wrap this up. We’re all having an amazing time so far. I’ll leave you with my top ten best Ghanaian store names for the trip:
10. Except God General Store
9. In Him is Life Electronics
8. Good Husband
7. It’s Just a Day
6. Roll Model
5. Still Flamingo
4. Commercial Company
3. Best Coca Cola
2. Club de Texas
1. Stupid. Stop Urinate Here.
-Connor Rickett
No comments:
Post a Comment