Cape Coast

We were worken this morning by the rhythmic chanting of men pulling in their nets from the sea. The nets are taken out in these large canoes, then pulled back to the shore by teams of 3-6 guys. It look likes hard work. But apparently it’s effective, because this is not a revitalized traditional industry - it’s just the way people here get their fresh fish. There are apparently larger fishing boats that stay out for a week or more - we can see the lights at sea at night - but the locals stick the fresh fish. 

Our first few days in Cape Coast have been difficult. I’m hot and sweaty almost all of the time - definitely every minute from 8 - 5 every day. At first, we were so mobbed by pushy children and taxi drivers and street vendors and party goers that it felt like we couldn’t leave the room. And we kind of couldn’t. 

A couple days later, we’ve figured out a few things. People here DO like to talk and they are pushy. The taxi driver associated with our hotel just stopped by in the hotel garden to chat, as did our server from lunch yesterday at a restaurant. Our host, the manager and the cook stop to chat several times a day. Meg has learned to talk to the street children - giving them food but never money. Some of the chats have been wonderful and informative and profound. Sometimes it’s just hard, when we want to do something else, like read or talk to each other. 

Our hotel, right on the beach.

I also have not taken very many pictures. It feels rude here. It also invites attention, and we’re already got enough. And it feels like it makes me a target to pull out an expensive camera. So I’ve taken fewer than usual, and will post even fewer, since internet seems to be scarce here. 

We took a cooking class with Global Mamas, a local organization that support local women to earn a fair wage. This is Meg helping to make fufu, which is made by pounding green plantain with cassava. We also made red red and a groundnut soup. Yummy. 

This afternoon we visited Cape Coast castle, where thousands of slaves were sent off to America and other locations. The dungeons were awful - the stories are pretty bad. The hope has to come from the fact that it DID end. 

Tomorrow we head to the University of Cape Coast, where Meg’s dad taught 50 years ago. 

Next up: More Ghana